Catharine 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 and character were invented by the writers. This is a continuation of the series. I hope y'all (I'm from Texas) like it. Title: Down in the Valley Author: Kelly O Part I I can not remember how long I stood there; I had lost myself in the soft blue of the mountains. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. When I remembered myself, I looked up at Neil. He sat straight and tall on his horse; his face looked as if he were in pain. Then, I looked at David. His eyes were hopeful, and he looked at me with sincerity. I rubbed my thumbs over the soft velvet box and then looked to the children. They stood perched on the school house steps watching. Finally, I could not bare the pressure any more. I handed David back the box, but I did not look at him or at Neil. I had no idea what I was doing. Everything was as if I were in a dream. I had no plan; I just had to get away, so I walked in the opposite direction from the two men and the children toward Raven Gap. I wanted to run, but I felt that it would not be a good example for the children. As soon as I knew for certain that I was out of sight, I ran with all of my might. Paying no attention to the tree limbs that scratched me or the thorn bushes that pricked me, I ran and stumbled over stones and tripped on tree roots, but I kept running until I could no longer breath. When I stopped to rest, I found myself in a small clearing surrounded by trees. The trees grew so thick that they formed a kind of walled fortress. The floor of the fortress was covered by a bed of soft, orange pine needles and dried leaves. I lay down upon them, and when I finally caught my breath, I closed my eyes. All I could see when I shut my eyes was Margaret in Neil's strong arms. I felt tears in my eyes, and they spilled down my cheeks and caused the tiny scratches to sting. I welcomed the pain. Somehow it made me feel better. "Why, God, " I asked out loud. "Why have you let me fall in love with Neil MacNeil?" ****** I must have fallen asleep, because I was awakened by the sound of an owl hooting above me. I remembered Opal's telling me that if one saw an owl that it was a sign that someone was going to die. I was thankful that it was so dark. There was no moon at all, so I could see nothing; I was surrounded by blackness and had no idea what time it was. The wind swept over me and chilled me until my teeth chattered. There was no way that I could find my way back to the mission house in the darkness, so I curled up into a tight ball and tried to sleep. I thought about Neil and David. I chided myself for loving a man that was married. Of course he should be holding Margaret; she is his wife after all. And had I not told her myself that he was worth fighting for. I saw Margaret's sad face clearly now in the darkness. She was so alone. I wondered why I did not love David. I thought of his blue-green eyes and his dark hair. He was such a great man. He was kind and thoughtful. He had worked so hard to buy that ring for me. It pained me to think how long he had worked and saved for it. I hated myself for leaving him standing there with no answer, just pushing the ring box back into his hands and leaving without a word. I was a horrible, horrible person, I told myself over and over again until I fell asleep. I was so cold when I woke up that my face and nose were numb. My hands and feet were stiff and ached. A tremendous sadness filled my heart, and I did not want to return to the mission, but I knew that people would worry if I did not. I could not run away from my problems, I told myself. I wondered if God could see me. I felt ashamed of myself. As I started back home, I made the decision that I would never marry. It was obvious that I was not meant for marriage. With a firm nod, I vowed to devote my life to the children, for they needed me far more than anyone. When I finally made it back to the mission house, the sun had just fully risen. David met me in the yard. "Christy!" He said as he took me in his arms. "We've been so worried about you. Where have you been all night." He put his coat around me and led me into the house. I didn't say anything, for my face was so cold that I didn't feel like talking. Once the door opened, and I stepped inside, a delicious, warm air fell over me. David sat me down in front of the fire. "You're freezing," he said as he took my hands in his and began to rub them. The fire felt so good on my face. But as my hands and feet started to thaw they pounded with pain. "I should call the doctor," David said with regret in his voice. And Ruby Mae, who surprisingly had not said a word since I had come inside, started to chatter. "I'll go get Doc. MacNeil." She said. "Miz Christy, you shore look blue." "I'm okay," I explained. "All I need is to sit here by the fire a little longer." "Christy, we looked for you all night." David said. As soon as he had said it, the door opened and Dr. MacNeil stepped inside. His forehead was furrowed and his eyes were wild; he had his bag gripped tightly in his left hand. "I checked Pebble Mountain…" he started but stopped when his eyes fell upon me. "Christy." He said. "Are you okay?" He walked over and knelt down beside me. He came so close that I could feel his warm breathe on my face. His eyes studied mine. "I just got too cold. " I said. "Really, I am fine." He felt my hands and then my cheeks. He traced one of the thin scratches with his finger tip. Then he turned and opened his bag. He poured liquid into a small tin cup and pushed it in front of me. "Here, drink this." I obeyed his command. The liquid made me cough and my chest burn, it was so bitter, but it made my skin feel warm. "What is it?" I asked still coughing. "Brandy." He said and smiled at me. "Drink some more!" "No thank you, really, I am more than fine. I fell asleep on the mountain and when I woke up it was too dark to find my way home. I feel fine now that I am in front of the fire." Neil nodded and squeezed my shoulder in a friendly manner. He turned to David who was rubbing his chin in thought. "She'll be fine," he said, then he turned back to me. "Try to stay warm the rest of the day, Miss Huddleston. " He picked up his bag from the floor. "I am going home now. Call on me if you need me." And with that he strode out the door. Part II David insisted on taking my classes all day. When I protested, he gave me a hurt look. I remembered the day before and finally submitted. I wanted to be with the children. I knew that their smiles and hard work would cheer me up. But since I had to relent to David's will; I had to keep myself busy. I spent the day indoors cleaning until I was breathless and then writing fervently to my family. I wondered what they were doing in Ashville and how George was doing in school. For the first time in a long while, I felt homesick. I got a sharp image of George's mischievous grin, and it made me laugh out loud. "I am glad to find thee in good spirits, Miss Huddleston." Miss Alice called from the doorway. She stood there with her hat in her hands and a smile on her face. When I saw her standing there I wanted to cry all over again, but I bit my bottom lip. How could I explain to her that I was in love with her son-in- law? What right had I to even be in love with him? But I wasn't in love with him--I told myself. I wasn't! "Now thou art a million miles away." She said and walked inside the room. She lifted my chin to look at me closely. "What is troubling thee?" "David--" I said, but I could no finish my statement. I only looked into her dark eyes searching for something, but I did not know what. She did not say anything, but her expression portrayed such love and understanding that I felt better. I couldn't bring myself to tell her the terrible details of the day before. I only sat there looking at her. "It's okay, Christy. Tell me when thou art ready, but remember I am here to listen, if thee wishes to talk." She patted my hand and started to leave the room. "Miss Alice," I said. She turned to me again. "Margaret has moved back to Neil's house. I thought that you might want to know. I am sure that she would like to see you." Miss Alice's face turned somber. She looked at the floor and then smiled back at me. "Thank you, Christy, for telling me, but Margaret and I parted badly last time we saw each other. I am afraid, well, I just do not think that she would wish to see me." With that, she turned and left as quietly as she had come. ****** At dinner that evening neither David nor I said a word. There were many awkward pauses. Miss Alice tried to fill the silence with stories of Cataleechie and how the children were getting along there. Ruby Mae chirped away about fishing with Rob Allen and Creed. She described every detail and said that Rob Allen wrote a poem as they were standing on the banks of the river. After dinner, I walked out on the porch for some air. David followed me outside, and I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I sat on the rocker and David pulled a wooden chair beside me. Nothing was said between us for a long time, I wished that I had not come outside. The night air was cold and fresh. The stars shone so bright. I looked for the Big Dipper and then the Little Dipper. When I began searching for Orion, David took my hand. "Christy," he finally said. "I know I put you in a bad position yesterday--" "David--" I started to interrupt, but he did not let me. "I am so sorry for that." He continued. "It was not how I had things planned at all. I wish I could take it all back and start over." His eyes drooped; he looked so sad. I watched him pull at the laces of his boot. As I sat there at the edge of the rocking chair, I said a silent prayer -- God, please give me the strength and the words to tell David what I must tell him. There was a long pause and finally he said. "Christy, will you marry me?'' He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out the blue, velvet box. The pallor of his face was ashen, and he looked so tired. He had stayed up all night looking for me. I swallowed. "David, you are so wonderful. You are too wonderful. I love you with all of my heart, I do, but--" I looked directly into his eyes, somehow I had strength. "I can't love you like that. You are one of my dearest friends in the whole world, but I can not marry you." I had finally said it. I looked at him. He had fixed his gaze on the tip of his boot. I could see the tears glisten in his eyes. "I suppose you are going to marry Neil then?" He said bitterly. "No, David. I am not going to marry anyone, ever!" "You will, Christy, some day you will marry, and I can not bare to think that it will not be to me." He had tears on his cheeks. I stood and knelt in front of him. I took his hand and held it tightly. "David, I am so sorry. I don't want to hurt you; I never want to hurt you. You deserve so much better than me. You don't want to marry someone who isn't going to love you the way that you should be loved." My heart broke when he turned to me with pain on his face and his lip trembling. He stood up; said nothing; and walked down the steps, across the yard, into his bunkhouse. I watched until he closed the door behind him. When his light went out, I went inside, gave my goodnight salutations to Ruby Mae and Miss Alice and went up to bed. I climbed under the thick quilts and pressed my face deep into my feather pillow to muffle the sounds of my crying. ****** School resumed as usual. After I had told the children that Rev. Grantland and I were not going to be married, the children did not mention another word about it. They must have sensed my uneasiness. David would not talk to me. Days went by, and he said nothing besides what was minimally required. I slept very badly, if at all. I felt so tired and yet, I could not sleep. When I did sleep, I had nightmares and woke with a headache. I plunged myself deep into my work. I made detailed plans in my teacher lesson book; I wrote a spring play for the children; I cleaned the mission house, organized my room, and did laundry until I had blisters. I tutored Lundy Taylor after school--he was making real progress in reading. When I told him how proud I was of him, he smiled with pride. I started Opal on reading lessons and continued with Fairlight. I had not seen Doctor MacNeil since the morning I had returned from my night in the woods. Sam Houston said that he saw him and Mrs. MacNeil fishing when he stopped by to show off some rocks that he had found. I told myself that I was glad that they were getting along. Maybe they had forgiven each other. I wondered if Miss Alice had been to talk to her. Farilight was my only refuge. "Miz, Christy," she said one day after school. "Let's you and me go on a nice long walk." She flung her arm around my neck. She turned to Zaddy who walked beside us. "Zaddy can watch after the leest- uns while Miz Christy and I take a walk." Zaddy nodded dutifully to her mother. Then Fairlight turned back to me. "We could take some bread and honey with us." Her voice was like a fresh cool mountain breeze. For the first time in over a week, I smiled heartily. We walked all afternoon along Tumbling Creek, wading and laughing as we stumbled upon rocks. Then we treked up the mountain top. We ate bread and honey at the summit of Pinnacle Mountain. The new, green folliage of the trees spread soft and bright before us. The spot was the prettiest I had yet seen in the cove. "Oh Fairlight. This is just beautiful." I said. She gazed at me for a long time and smiled. "How are you Christy? I've been watching you--you look tired and you have been working too hard." "Oh, I'm okay, Fairlight. I am just trying to stay busy." "The word's around that Neil and Margaret are not really back together. He is just letting her live there because he is worried about her health." "Oh Fairlight, it's okay. They should be together. They're married. What kind of person am I if I wish for them to be miserable." I stirred the soil with a stick. She gathered me in her arms and hugged me tightly. "You are such a wonderful person Christy Huddleston." She pulled away and looked at me. "You are my best friend--I've been wanting to tell you that. I am so glad that God sent you here to me." "Oh Fairlight, you are my best friend too. I have never known a friendship like yours. I love laughing and talking with you." I watched her tuck her blonde hair behind her ears, which turned a pale pink as she blushed. "When I first saw you," I said. " I thought that you looked like a princess--a highland princess." She hugged me again and this time I had tears in my eyes. "I just don't like to see you hurtin' like this, is all." She said. "I am going to be fine. The children are the reason I am here. I am not going to lose sight of that. But this walk has helped me immensly. We should do this once a week at least." We laughed, and after a short reflective silence, we started for home. Part III May had proved to be a rainy month; we had more than our usual share of storms. The mud hole was muddier than I had ever seen it. The rivers and creeks swelled over their banks and rushed white and fast over the land. Waterfalls that I had never seen before cropped up everywhere. They were beautiful to behold, and Fairlight and I spent many afternoons searching for them. But the heavy rains caused me to fear for the children, for they walked such long distances to come to school. Mountie feared thunder and lighting so much that she sometimes asked to sit in my lap during class. On stormy days, we would all sit in a circle on the floor and sing songs to drown out the horrid thunder. One stormy Monday morning, as we sat in a circle to sing, Creed Allen said, "Let's sing your favorite song, Teacher." I grinned, "And just what do you think my favorite song is, Creed." "Why that's easy Mizz Christy--you're always a-humming it. It's 'Down in the Valley.'" I was amazed at Creed's close observations, for that song had come to symbolize to me the pure goodness of these mountain people. "You are correct, Creed Allen. It is my favorite." He smiled triumphantly. "I tell you what--why don't you start us off." Just as Creed started to sing. Ben Pentland burst into the schoolhouse carrying several big packages. His clothes were soaked with rain and smeared with mud, and his hair was plastered against his face. "Packages, teacher," cried Sam Houston with such excitement that everyone jumped to their feet. "They're from Asheville, Mizz Christy," Ben said out of breath. "You must be exhausted, Mr. Pentland. Why don't you sit for awhile." "Much obliged." He sat down in one of the children's desks. "Open them, teacher!" The children cried in unison. I opened the package with a pair of scissors. Inside, I found, as I had expected, books. My eyes widened. I had spent hours composing a list of books and send it to Father with money that I had earned from my teaching salary. I wanted so much for all the children to own a book of their very own. A book that they could take home and read. I chose a different book for each child--one that I thought they would like. I wanted them to know that their hard work would be rewarded. I picked up the top book. It was a copy of Tom Sawyer. I opened it to the front page, in meticulous calligraphy, Father had written--Property of Creed Allen. I smiled. "What is it teacher?" "Why are you smiling?" "Show us!" "Since school is almost out for the summer," I began carefully. I did not want them to mistake the books for charity. I had traveled down that road before with these highlanders; they would have none of it. "I wanted to get you all a little something to reward you for your hard work. You have all been wonderful students. You have earned these." Everyone smiled with pride and curiosity. "As I call your name, I want you to come to my desk and pick up your reward." "Creed Allen..." Creed walked up boldly to my desk. I handed him the copy of Tom Sawyer. His eyes sparkled. "For me Mizz Christy?" "Yes, Creed--look in the front." He opened the book and read aloud--"Prop-er-ty of Creed Allen--it's my book?" He looked at me with astonishment. "Yes, it belongs to you, Creed, you can take it home." I turned my eyes on the class. "I have one here for each of you." "Sam Houston..." "Mountie…" "Rob Allen…" "Ruby Mae…" "Little Burl…" I called all the children one-by-one to my desk. When I had handed out the last book, the children were all smiling and looking through their new treasures. Even Lundy flipped through his copy of "Treasure Island" with a look of joy. The students studied the inscriptions that my father had added and compared their book with their neighbors. They giggled and awed over the illustrations. At the bottom of one of the boxes, I discovered an envelope. I opened it. Inside was a beautiful, oval, locket and a letter. I turned the locket over; It was inscribed on the back; it read: To our girlie: Just because you make us proud! We love you---Father, Mother, George, and Emilia from on high." Tears came to my eyes. Inside the locket I found two pictures--on the left side was a picture of Mother, Father, and George and on the right was a drawing that mother had done of Emilia. I opened the letter. May 2, 1913 Dear Christy: You sounded so sad on the telephone when we talked to you last, and your letters make us miss you terribly. We long to give you a hug and a kiss. We hope that you are well. Please know that we are so proud of our girlie. Love, Mother, Father, & George. At that moment, I realized how rich I really was. God had blessed me with such a family and with these wonderful children that I loved so dearly. I had been so gloomy these passed weeks; I should have been filled with joy. I resolved to be happy and enjoy life. I had almost forgotten where I was--so deep in thought I had been-- until a tiny voice called me back to the classroom. "Teacher, are you okay?" Little Burl tugged at my skirt. I looked down at him. "Yes, Little Burl, I'm just fine." ****** Part IV I had not seen Dr. MacNeil since the morning after my retreat into the woods. More than a month had passed, but it seemed like so much longer. I had intentionally tried to avoid him, for I felt that seeing him would be awkward. I had sent Fairlight to pick up supplies for the mission when we needed them, and thankfully, none of the children or anyone at the mission had required his services. But I missed sharing confidences with him; I missed hearing his voice--his Scottish accent. I sat on the front porch one evening, just before supper, trying to conjure his voice when David walked up the steps. "Christy," he said. I looked up. "I wanted to tell you that I am so sorry for my behavior. I want to mend our friendship, if you'll forgive me." I smiled. "Oh David, of course I forgive you. I've missed talking to you; I've missed our friendship so much." I got up and gave him a hug. His smile caused a wave of relief to wash over me. I felt like I had come home after a long and tiring journey. "What's this?" He asked, and he touched the gold locket that I wore around my neck. The light that streamed from the window lit only his nose and cheeks. "It was a gift from my family," I showed him the pictures inside and the inscription on the back. He twisted the locket in his long fingers and turned it toward the light in order to see better. After he had read the inscription, he looked up at me with sincerity. "Of course they're proud--who wouldn't be proud of you, Christy." At dinner, we talked as easily and happily as we used to. We ate ham, collard greens, and mashed potatoes. Ruby Mae had forgotten to put the corn bread muffins in the oven, so we could smell them cooking as we talked about the children and the mission; Ruby Mae chattered incessantly. "This is the best book I ever did read, Mizz Christy." She said and tapped the cover of "Little Women," the book I had given her. "It was my favorite too, Ruby Mae." I told her. "I like this Jo, gal. I wish I knew what she looked like… This makes me wish I had me a sister….Mizz Christy, will you read some to me later…Beth March, Jo's sister, had scarlet fever just like we did at the school…remember teacher?" Miss Alice, however, was extremely quite; she said scarcely two words together all evening. Her smile seemed strained, and the dullness in her eyes told me that she barely listened to us at all. After I had cleared and washed the dishes, I knocked on her bedroom door. "Come in," she called. "Oh, Christy, it is so good to see thee happy again," she said and stretched out her arms to hug me. "I was so worried about thee, but it seems that the light has come back into thine eyes." "Thank you Miss Alice. But I am afraid that I have been so preoccupied with myself that I failed to notice, until tonight, that you have been sad; what's wrong, Miss Alice? Is it Margaret? Is she okay?" She paused and weakly sat down upon her bed. She looked as if she had no strength to stand. "Tomorrow is Margaret's birthday." She stated. "I want to see her so much, but I fear that it would put a bigger wedge between us. I have sent messages to her--Fairlight carried them for me. She has not responded to any of them." Miss Alice's eyes pooled with tears. "Oh Christy, I've missed her so. I must admit to thee that I have, at times, been willing to give up God and my faith just to see her. I am so ashamed of myself." I sat down on the bed beside Miss Alice and pulled her dark hair away from her face. I wanted so much to tell her that everything would be okay, but I did not know that it would. I put my arm around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder, I could feel her trembling. After she had regained herself she said, "I can still remember Margaret's little hands; she had long fingers like my daddy did. She was born with coal black hair, and a splotchy pink face. She had long, thick eyelashes and big blue eyes." Miss Alice paused and tilted her head as if she were looking at a picture. "She used to climb into bed with me in the middle of the night and place her cold feet on my shins. It always sent chills up my spine. She would toss and turn and finally confess that she could not sleep and beg for me to read poetry to her. I had a book of Shakespeare's sonnets that she liked so much. We stayed up many nights reading from that book." "She was a tender hearted little girl--" Miss Alice continued, sniffing and then wiping her nose with her crisp, white handkerchief. "There was a bully at the school that she attended. He was not unlike Lundy Taylor; he was an abused child and much troubled. His name was Clovis Pritchard. He would pick on all the children, but he liked to torment Caroline Jacobs more than he did the others; Caroline was a chubby, round-faced girl. He called her names and would hit her. He threatened all of the other children with a beating if they talked to her or tried to play with her. 'Caroline is so lonely,' Margaret would tell me after school. 'She sits all alone during recess and eats her sandwich in a corner.' One day, Margaret had had enough of Clovis; she marched right across the schoolyard and ate her lunch with Caroline. Clovis threatened her, but she did not back down, and he never bothered Margaret or Caroline again. Margaret was always fearless like that." Miss Alice smiled at the memory. "What happened to Caroline?" I asked. "She died of Typhoid four years later. She was Margaret's best friend." Miss Alice turned serious again. "It wasn't long after that when Margaret started to change. She grew restless and agitated…" Miss Alice stopped talking and looked at me. "I don't know what to do, Christy. Fairlight said that she looked very sad last time she saw her, and she was coughing. I can not bare to lose her again." "Is there something I could do, Miss Alice?" I asked. "Christy, will'st thou be willing to take her this present…" she motioned to a small, beautifully wrapped box, which sat on her nightstand. "And could thou talk to her for me--I believe that she might need a friend." "Of course I will. Since tomorrow is Saturday, I don't have school; I will go first thing in the morning. Why don't you come with me," I said. "No, no, she has to come to me on her own. I can not meddle in her affairs any longer--that is a mistake that I have made in the past." When I was confident that Miss Alice was okay, I went up to my room. I could not sleep that night. I wrapped some of my bath salts and a bottle of perfume in a lace handkerchief that mother had crocheted for me. Then I opened my windows so that the night air could pour into my room. The moon shone brightly; and, in the distance, I could see the wrinkled mountains. They were a comfort. ********* The morning came sooner than I wanted. I had not slept at all, so my stomach churned. I dressed and ate two bites of toast on the way out the door. With my arms wrapped around Margaret's presents, I set out for Doctor MacNeil's cabin. I hummed as I walked to try to keep myself calm. As I neared Doctor MacNeil's cabin, I noticed that my heart raced. "Miss Huddleston, to what do I owe this honor?" A voice called out. It was Neil. His voice sounded friendly and jovial; he appeared from out of the trees. He wore his sleeves rolled up and carried an ax in his hand. When he saw me, his smiling features melted into a look of concern. "Are you feeling well? You look thin." "Oh, yes, I'm fine," I could feel my face blush. His observant eyes never missed even the slightest detail. He was right; I hadn't eaten well over the last month. I could tell he didn't believe my answer; he continued to examine me with his eyes, which made me blush even more. "I just came to wish Mrs. MacNeil a happy birthday." His eyes shifted away as if my words had stung him. "She's inside," he said, then turned and disappeared again into the woods. I walked the rest of the way to his cabin, but I stopped when I got to the front porch. I smoothed my skirt, took a deep breath, and walked up the steps. Before I could knock on the door, Margaret had opened it. ****************************************************************************** Part V I walked the rest of the way to his cabin, but I stopped when I got to the front porch. I smoothed my skirt, took a deep breath, and walked up the steps. Before I could knock on the door, Margaret had opened it. "Well, if it isn't Miss Pollyanna," she said. She wore the lavender silk dress that I had once worn. Seeing her in it stunned me, and I stood staring at her in spite of myself. Her eyes narrowed, and she pressed her lips together tightly. "Happy birthday, Mrs. MacNeil." I said and extended the presents for her to take. She didn't take them; in fact, she crossed her arms and waited as if to see how long I would hold them there. Finally she said, "You can take those back to Alice. They are not welcome here." I was taken aback by her remark. And why had she called her own mother, Alice. "Oh, Miss Pollyanna, you mustn't look so confused--didn't Alice tell you?" "Tell me what?" "Well, she disowned me as her daughter. I no longer have a mother, and I surely won't accept packages from a stranger. Good day." She closed the door in my face. I stood there quietly looking at the door. Something inside me snapped. I became furious. How could she be so unkind? How could she be Miss Alice's daughter? How could Neil have married her? How could she be the same person that marched across a schoolyard to help a lonely little girl? I don't know what came over me, but I opened the door to the cabin and walked inside, uninvited. She looked at me with surprise. "These presents are for you, like it or not, you are keeping them." I practically threw the presents on Neil's dining table. Margaret's features softened slightly. "You are more tenacious than I thought." She lit a cigarette and sucked on it until the end glowed red. She inhaled deeply and then coughed. I stared at her as she smoked. She had the prettiest eyes I had ever seen, somehow they reminded me of someone; I couldn't discern whom, but it was not Miss Alice. Even though she was very thin--from her illness I supposed--she had a loveliness about her. "My you're serious. I suppose you have more right to hate me than anyone--you being in love with Neil and all." "I don't hate you, and Neil and I are just friends." I said. "Just friends, eh?" A smirk blossomed on her lips. "If you and Neil are just friends, then why aren't you marrying the preacher?" She blew smoke from her nose. "You were wrong you know--Neil isn't worth fighting for." "I understand that you've been through a lot of pain and hurt; you've been through so much. Would you like to talk about it?" "What would you know about pain?" As she said it, her eyes were wild, and I thought I saw tears begin to fill them. The door opened, and Neil walked into the cabin. His hair hung unmanaged about his face, and he looked somber. I watched him study Margaret. "Margaret," he said. "You can't smoke, I already told you that. It's not good for your lungs," he walked over and took the still smoking cigarette from her hand and stamped it on the table. Neil had used his professional voice, and I watched as Margaret's pretty eyes searched his face for something besides the physician. I could tell that she had been disappointed, for her eyes shifted and bent. Suddenly, I felt awkward standing there. I pulled at my locket nervously. Now they were both staring at me as if I were something to marvel over. I floundered over what to say. "Dr. MacNeil," I stated formally, trying to think of something legitimate to say. "Can---can I persuade you to come to the school sometime next week to give a lecture to the children. I think they could benefit from some first aid instruction." He rubbed his fingers across his chin, "Yes, I can work that in--is Thursday soon enough?" "Oh yes, Thursday would be just fine, " I said. Then the awkward silence returned. The air stifled me. Neil's glazed eyes made it impossible to read his thoughts. I wanted so much to talk to him, but that was impossible now. "Well, I hope that you have a happy birthday, Mrs. Mac Neil," I stammered. "If I can do anything for you, please call on me. I should go now, I promised Ruby Mae we would pick flowers." I turned and without another word went out the door. On the way home, I ran into Dan Scott. He was also walking toward the mission. "Christy, how have you been? It seems like so long since I have seen you." "I know," I said and felt a little ashamed that I had not gone to help him restore his cabin from the fire. "With all this rain, I have scarcely done anything, but work." "I know the passed few weeks have been hard on you." Dan was such a sensitive man. He had been the only one who noticed how hard it was for me to give up Iris to Opal; that day, he had expressed his sympathy in a way that touched my heart. His observant eyes truly belonged to a doctor. I smiled at him. "Yes, it has not been a good month." I admitted. "But, like the rain, there will be good that comes out of it all. I am confident of it." "You sound just like Miss Alice," he laughed. I smiled at the complement. When we neared the mission house, I noticed that Miss Alice stood in the yard waiting for me. She met us on the path and asked only with her expression "What had happened?" I did not have to answer her, for my countenance must have conveyed what she needed to know. "I want to thank thee for going, Christy." She touched my face lightly and then walked away. "What was that about?" Dan asked after she had gone. "I went to see Margaret this morning." "Oh, I see." He looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, "Margaret is a puzzle." "Do you visit with her often?" I asked. I couldn't help my curiosity. "Well, I work with Dr. MacNeil everyday now, so yes, I suppose I do see her quite often. We don't get an opportunity to talk much. Dr. MacNeil and I are out on rounds early in the morning, and we do not return until late. I think he's avoiding being with Margaret. He never used to stay away all day." I wondered what Margaret did all alone during the day. Suddenly I felt very sorry for her; she had pushed everyone that loved her away, and now she was alone. I thought of her friend, Caroline, who had sat alone in a corner eating her sandwich. Margaret was not unlike her now--except now the bully was Margaret's own pride. I remembered her saying, on the afternoon that I had first met her, that she could not stand being alone in that cabin. Her words fluttered back to me: I could even recall the sound of her voice. "Talk to me after you've spent a winter or two snowed in--" she had said. "Never able to go anywhere, surrounded by strangers who you have nothing in common with. Neil was gone for weeks sometimes. No way of knowing if he was lying dead somewhere. Days without anyone to talk to. Maybe if there had been someone like you." Something struck me--maybe I was the one who was supposed to cross the schoolyard to help Margaret. ******* Sunday night I lay in bed thinking of Dr. MacNeil. I cried a little when I thought to myself that I would never have the kind of love that I longed for from him, but I knew that these thoughts were vain and selfish and not what God wanted. I prayed with my eyes closed as I lay under the thick quilt that Fairlight had given me. Somehow all my thoughts led back to Margaret-- I wanted to help reconcile Margaret, Miss Alice and Dr. MacNeil--as soon as I had this thought, I knew that it was God's own words. I could not explain it, but I just knew that they were. If I could get them to reconcile, the three of them could find happiness. But how? I fell asleep praying and asking for guidance. On Monday, when I woke, I felt so refreshed, and I was convinced that it was because I had discovered one of God's plans. I decided that if I could get Margaret to be happy with herself, that the rest would fall into place. PART VI After school on Monday, I picked a bouquet of flowers--mountain laurel, columbines, purple aster, and daises. Then walked to Doctor MacNeil's cabin. I observed that Charlie was gone, so I assumed that Dr. MacNeil was still out on medical calls with Dan Scott. I walked up the steps and knocked on the door. Margaret answered, she had her hair tied up in a scarf and she had a scrub brush in her hand. "I brought you some flowers, and I thought that you might want to go for a walk with me. It's not raining anymore." She looked at me with astonishment. "Neil isn't home." She said defensively. "I know, I came to see you." Her eyes searched mine. I could see from her expression that she did not trust me. "We don't have to go for a walk, I just thought that you might want to get out of the cabin for a bit. I can help you clean if you would rather." I did not waver; but stood firmly in the door with as much friendly confidence as I could muster. I tried to think of a way to win her trust, but nothing came to mind. "Well," she said, obviously confused; she looked as if she did not know how to react. "Just let me finish scrubbing the floor." "Here I can help you with that." I followed her inside, and together we scrubbed the floor of Doctor MacNeil's cabin. We spent the afternoon walking down Big Spoon Creek. The temperature was perfect. "I've forgotten how beautiful the mountains can be." She said. I told her about the children, about Mountie O'Teal and how she did not talk when I first came to Cutter Gap. "It is nice that you have a mission in life. My life will amount to nothing when I am gone," she said. "I don't think so, you have a lot to offer. What do you enjoy doing more than anything else?" She looked thoughtfully for a moment and then said, "I don't know. I like poetry, I suppose, and I like to sing." "Maybe you could come teach the children some music lessons or talk to them about poetry. They would love to meet you. I know that they would like you." She turned to me. "Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked flatly. I looked at her. I did not quite know what to say. Finally I said, "I was afraid that you were lonely." She nodded but still appeared skeptical. She turned and continued walking ahead of me. We got back to the cabin before dark, and I left for the mission before Dr. MacNeil and Dan Scott returned. Tuesday and Wednesday were so stormy that I could not go visit Margaret. The lightning filled the sky and the thunder followed so close behind it that we knew it was striking near the cove; we cancelled school both days and David walked around in the rain informing the parents. I worried about him all day Miss Alice and I sat in the parlor and watched the rainfall; she read from the Bible. I was relieved when David finally came home. He was drenched from head to toe. On Thursday morning, I awoke remembering that I had asked Neil to come teach. It was not raining outside, so I dressed and left early for the schoolhouse. When I walked up schoolhouse steps, I was surprised to find Neil waiting for me. "Ah, Miss Huddleson." He said. "I was just admiring the children's art work." "Oh, it is good isn't it. I am especially proud of Clara Spencer's robin. She drew it last week. It's right over here." I pointed it out to him. "I think that she could be a great artist someday. She sees things three- dimensionally already." When I looked up from Clara's drawing, I found that Neil was looking at me in a way that made me blush. His eyes were so intense, and he seemed as if he were committing every detail of my face to memory. He started to say something, but changed his mind. "What is it Dr. MacNeil?" I asked. He walked over and took my hand. He looked me directly in the eye. He still could not vocalize the words. He only opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it again with a frustrated look. Please say it, I thought to myself. He touched his hand to my face tenderly; as he tried again to speak, a shout came from out side. "Miss Huddleston! Miss Huddleston!" The voice sounded disturbed. I ran outside. It was Ben Pentland. He stood out of breath waving a yellow paper in his hand. Dr. MacNeil joined me outside. "What the devil, Ben. Are you all right." Neil asked. Ben stood bent over trying to catch his breath. "Yes'm," he said. "I ran all the way from El Pano. I have a telegram for Miss Huddleston." A shudder trickled down my back. I had never received a telegram before. Ben walked up the steps and handed the folded yellow paper to me. I opened it. Dearest Christy: I do not want to be the one to tell you this. Your parents had left on Tuesday to pay you a surprise visit. A trellis collapsed under the weight of their train and it crashed. Your mother was killed instantly. Your Father and George remain in critical condition at the Asheville Hospital. Please hurry. They are not expected to live. Your, Uncle John I could not breathe. I must have misread the telegram. I read it again. It said the same thing. A cold sweat poured down my face. I felt light-headed. It just couldn't be. Mom, Dad, George. My legs had already given away. I could not feel them. How was I still standing? Then I realized that Doctor MacNeil had a firm grip on me, and he was holding me up. "What is it Lassie?" He asked imploringly. But I could not bring myself to speak the words; I feared that it would make it true. I handed him the telegram. I watched him read it, hoping that he would find something different in it than I had. But when his face dropped in extreme sadness, I knew that it was true. He took me in his arms, and I cried without regard to who watched or listened. I felt so weak, so powerless. How could I still be breathing when my family lay in pain or maybe even dead. "Oh mother, mother!" I cried. "Shh shh sh, Las, I'm here. I'm here." Neil's words seemed as if they came from far way. Suddenly, everything went black. Part VII I awoke dizzy, and my skin felt clammy. Dr. MacNeil hovered over me; he held my wrist in his hand. Where was I, was this a dream? "What happened?" I asked, rubbing my eyes to try to clear the dizziness. The back of my neck was wet with cold perspiration. When I looked around, I found that I was lying on the davenport in the mission house, I was confused. My head seemed fuzzy. I tried to get up. "Easy now--you fainted, that's all." Dr. MacNeil said gently; his voice sounded so soft and soothing--almost a whisper. I closed my eyes again, trying to bring back what had happened. Suddenly, I remembered the telegram, and I vaulted from the davenport. Neil intercepted me and gently, but firmly, pressed me back down. "Not so fast. Take it easy now, you need to lie down for a bit longer." He said. His brow was wrinkled. "But I have to go. I have to go now--to Asheville!" I pleaded. "I know," he said. "But there's not another train until this evening. And right now you need to lie down." His voice remained as smooth as before. "I don't care if I have to ride horseback all the way, I've gotta go now!" My voice wavered, for I was crying. I was fighting Neil's grip with all of my might, for I had visions of my mother lying in a casket--her face as white as chalk--then of Father writhing in pain with me not there to hold his hand. And George, poor George, only fourteen-years old. Finally, I could not fight his strong grip anymore. I had no more energy, so I let myself go limp and tumbled back onto the pillows. I stared at the ceiling; trying to be brave and not cry, but tears kept trickling down my cheeks and falling into my ears. "I'm so sorry, Christy." Neil cupped my face with his warm hand and brushed my tears away with his thumb. When I looked at him, his eyes were glistening. "But please, rest now. I am going to take you to Asheville myself, but we will make much better time if we wait and go by train. I am going to call the hospital in a minute; I know some doctors there, perhaps we can get some more information." "Thank you, Neil." I said and tried to smile at him to show my gratitude. Then I had a fleeting thought of Margaret all alone while Neil was in Asheville. "Here's the water, Neil." Miss Alice said. She handed Dr. MacNeil a glass and smiled down at me. "Thanks, Alice," he turned back to me. "Here, now. You have a few sips of this, and then I will go and call the Asheville hospital." I sat up, drank some of the cool mountain water that Miss Alice had brought, and then lay back down. The dizziness started to stop. Neil watched me for a minute and then nodded with satisfaction. When he got up, Alice sat in his place. She took my hand in hers. "I am sorry thee received such terrible news." I couldn't look at her, for I knew that if I did, I would cry all over again. I sucked in my lip and continued staring at the ceiling. "God will see thee through this Miss Huddleston. Thee will see." David rushed through the front door. "I just heard!" He shouted. He was at my side in an instant even after tripping over the piano bench. "I left at dawn to help Dan finish his porch. Ben Pentland came and told us. How are you?" I didn't feel like talking to anyone, but David looked so concerned. "I'm okay," I told him. "Dr. MacNeil is calling the hospital right now to find out some more information." We all sat quietly listening to Dr. MacNeil's telephone conversation. I sat up straight. He only said 'yes' and 'no' and 'I see' loud enough for everyone to hear, the rest of his words were spoken so softly that they sounded like a mumble. When he hung up the phone, I held my breath. He walked over to me and sat down on the coffee table. "Well, they are both alive, but it's not good, Christy. Your father has severe head injuries and extensive internal injuries. They have tried to stop the internal bleeding as best they can, but he is in a comma right now. He has not regained consciousness since the accident. Your brother, George, has lost his left leg. They had to amputate it because it was so badly crushed. He also has head injuries and has not regained consciousness since they brought him in." I sat in a daze. I knew that people spoke to me, but I was not sure what they were saying. I felt nauseous at the thought of George losing his leg. My little George, who would chase me around the house all summer with buzzing insects in his grimy hands, had lost his leg. And Father my dear father. I couldn't breath. If only they had not gotten on that train. If only they had not chosen to come see me. If only I had never come to Cutter Gap, maybe this never would have happened. I felt a squeeze on my shoulder, which brought me out of the daze. "I am going to get my things, and I will be back to take you to the train, in less than an hour." Neil said. But as soon as he had spoken, the door to the mission house banged open, and John Holcombe rushed in with sweat running down his grizzled chin. "Dr. MacNeil, we need you bad. My boy, Sam Houston 's been shot real bad." I stood up, "Sam Houston?" I felt like I was in a whirlpool and being sucked under. I couldn't breath. I was drowning. "He and Creed Allen were playing with one of my guns and it went off by accident. Oh, please hurry Doc." John Holcombe had grief in his eyes. Neil turned to me. I was trembling all over. "You have to go to Sam Houston." I told him. "Oh, God, please let Sam Houston be okay." I looked at Neil, "Go go!" I said. "Miss Alice or David can take me to Asheville. You have to go. Please save Sam Houston. Please." And with that, Dr. MacNeil threw his saddlebags over his shoulder and followed John Holcombe out the door. David and Miss Alice both accompanied me on the train. As we left the station, I kept thinking of Sam Houston. His words came back to me as if they were part of the wind. "Prettified--Mizz Cristy is right prettified, even when she's frettin'." ###################################################################### Part VIII The train-ride seemed never ending. I paced up and down the isles, walked outside between the train cars, sat down, only to get up again, and repeat the routine. Outside the night sky was full of stars. Sitting was unbearable; even though David and Miss Alice pleaded with me to sit and rest; I just couldn't do it. Somehow, I felt that I could will the train to go faster, and by walking, I felt that I was doing something to speed things along. All the time I paced, I prayed. "Please dear God let Father, George, and Sam Houston be okay. Please dear God, I can not live without them. Please dear God, please dear God, please dear God…." I repeated it over and over until the rhythm of my prayers matched the rhythm of the train. Other passengers spoke of politics and gossiped among themselves, and I could not bring myself to understand how the world could still be going on normally. Why had it not stopped? "Christy, thee has been pacing back and forth for four hours." Miss Alice said as she joined me outside. "Please come and sit down, thee will wear thyself out." She touched my shoulder gently. "Thee will need all thy strength when thee gets to the hospital." "I can't, Miss Alice. I just can't." She nodded knowingly, patted my shoulder, and left me standing under the stars. When I came back inside, I heard the conductor say. "As you know this train does not go through to Asheville at this time. A trellis collapsed a few days ago and there has been no time to fix it." My heart skipped. "This next stop will be the last one tonight, so if you intend to travel on, you will have to find other means to get you to the Asheville train station." By the time we had de-boarded and rented horses, the first hints of dawn were in the sky. David and Miss Alice ate some jelly sandwiches that Miss Alice had made before we had left Cutter Gap. I just could not bring myself to eat any; my stomach felt raw. On the way out of town, the dark sky began to lighten and the landscape unfolded before us. I would normally have called it a beautiful day. In the fresh morning light, we came upon the collapsed trellis. Half of the train lay at the bottom of a holler and half still on the track above, one car just hung over the edge. As soon as I saw it, I rolled off of my horse and vomited. Miss Alice poured me a drink of water from her canteen and draped a saturated handkerchief on the back of my neck. She didn't say anything, but I could feel her sympathy with the touch of her hand. When I had regained myself, David helped me back on my horse. His eyes studied mine; "Do you want to ride with me, Christy?" He asked. I shook my head. "I'll be fine." At midmorning, we finally reached the hospital. A nurse informed us that father and George were on the third floor. When we came up the last step, I saw Uncle John standing in the hallway. I ran to him, and he caught me in his arms. "Oh, Christy, thank God you've come." He sounded so relieved. Uncle John was not actually my uncle; he was my father's best friend. "I am afraid that there has been no change in their condition." "Where is Mother?" I asked. "She is at the funeral home. We are going to have to discuss when and where the services will be." I tried to push this thought from my mind. It was just too much for me to think about. I turned around and held my hand out to David and Miss Alice. "Miss Alice, David, this is my Uncle, John Burton---John, this is Miss Alice Henderson and Rev. David Grantland." Everyone shook hands. Then I asked John, "Can I see them?" "Of course. Follow me." I turned to David and Alice, who stood behind me. "Would one of you try to telephone the mission to check on Sam Houston?" "Thee has read my mind, Miss Huddleston." Miss Alice said. I followed Uncle John into the large hospital room. The walls were stark white, and the beds were mere cots lined in a two rows with an isle down the center. A person filled each cot; some were groaning and some were silent. "Your father and George are at that end there." Uncle John said and pointed to the row along the far wall. "Christy, I will leave you with them. I am afraid that I am going to have to go home and get some sleep." "Of course, John, you have already done so much, thank you." He smiled sadly at me. "I'll be back to check on you in the morning." Then he left me. I walked down the long row of beds. Their cots were next to a bright sunny window. When I looked down at my father, I realized that I was not prepared for what I saw. He lay barley breathing. His breath came irregularly and sounded raspy. His face had swelled so much that his eyes were only slits. Half of his face was a deep purple. I almost didn't recognize him. "Oh Daddy?" I knelt beside his bed and held his hand. I could feel my chin trembling "Can you hear me, Daddy? It's me; it's Christy. Oh Daddy, please hear me, please." With my face pressed against his hand, I sobbed. Thoughts crowded my mind. I remembered when he taught me to ride a horse; he showed me how to ride astride and said that I was as brave as any boy. I remembered when I was sick he used to bring me ice cream by the quart and feed it to me one spoonful at a time. He taught me to dance by letting me stand on his toes; he had a way of winking at me that made me feel like I was the prettiest girl in the world. I remembered he took me to the school dance because no boy had asked me to go. Even though I was too big, we danced together with my feet on his toes. Finally, I got to my feet and stepped over to George's bed. I gasped when I saw that the sheet fell flat just passed his left knee. They had amputated. It was real now. "George, It's me, Christy. I've missed you Georgie, please wake up. I want to talk to you." Miss Alice and David stood behind me; I would not have noticed them, if I had not heard David praying quietly. His voice sounded like a lullaby. "Dear heavenly Father, please be with the Huddleston's and see them to a quick recovery. Be with Christy during this time of despair, give her the strength to see her family through such devastation. Amen." When he had finished, I turned toward them. "Sam Houston?" I asked. "There was no answer at the mission house." Miss Alice said. I stayed all day kneeling between the two cots, praying. Miss Alice sat on an unoccupied bed across from us and read from the Bible. David went back and forth from the phone to our hospital room. Each time he came back and said, "Still no answer." At late afternoon, he went to get some food and drinks for us. I still could not eat anything. "Christy you haven't had anything to eat since yesterday--you have to eat," David said. "David is right, Christy, thee will need thy strength." "I just can't." They both gave me a look of authority, and so I dutifully took two bites of the ham sandwich that David brought. As I swallowed I felt sick. A nurse brought three chairs for us. She wore all white. "There are beds down stairs for you to sleep on; you are welcome to go down and get some rest. We will let you know if there are any changes." She had a sweet face, kind eyes, and--amongst all the misery--she seemed so clean and fresh. When darkness fell, I turned to Miss Alice and David. "Please go and get some sleep downstairs," I told them. "I am going to stay here with them." "Christy, you need rest too, they will come get you if..." "No," I said. "I couldn't bare it if I were not here when they woke up." "Then I will stay too." David said. "No, I really don't want to have to worry about you too. Please go get some sleep. I know that you are both exhausted. Please." I begged. "Christy, David and I will take shifts sitting with thee." Miss Alice said. "David, I will take the first shift. You go and get some rest and come back in a few hours." David nodded. He walked over and kissed my forehead tenderly. "I will see you later." His eyes looked soft and tired. I smiled at him. The night stretched on, and the moans of pain that came from the patients in the other cots were part of the horrible music that filled the darkness. I had only one candle burning on the table between Father and George. It made a small yellow halo around us, and the shadows were dark and deep. I wondered if the other people in the room had been in the train accident. I was in a dream-like state when I heard a gasp escape from my father's lips. I quickly got up form my chair and knelt beside him. "Daddy, Daddy, can you hear me?" "Christy, is that you Girlie?" He said it so faintly that it was almost as if he had not spoken at all. "Yes, Daddy, it's me." "Oh, Christy, my brave, brave girl," he squeezed my hand meekly. "You will always be my little miss, my girlie. I love you so much." "I love you Daddy. I love you." I kissed him. "Mother's gone, Daddy. She's gone." I cried desperately. I noticed that his breathing slowed. "Don't you leave me too Daddy, don't leave me here all alone. I need you!" "Christy, my Christy. You have always had enough strength to do anything you set your mind to. You have more strength than you know. You will have to be brave now, darling. I know you can do it." "But Georgie, Daddy, he needs you." I paused then said. "Look Daddy--look it's dawn outside remember--the world's renews itself at dawn." "I see it;" he whispered though he was not looking at the window. "The world does renew itself. Christy-" he called my name with more force than before. "You will have to take care of our George. I am afraid I must…." He died with his eyes open. I stayed beside him as the sun started to flood in the window beside us. My candle was only a nub, and the flame that had lasted through the night flickered lamely upon its wick. David lay on the unoccupied cot behind me. His long legs dangled over the end of the bed. I stayed kneeling until the doctor came mid-morning. Alice was with him. I did not let go of Daddy's hand until the doctor said, "I'm afraid he is gone." Somehow, I didn't cry. I felt numb. Miss Alice hugged me. "Oh Christy, I know exactly how thee feels, I remember when my own father passed away. I hated God, I blamed him for my father's death, but Christy, don't shut God out; thee needs him now more than ever before." As usual, Miss Alice had read my thoughts. "Christy, I am so sorry. I fell asleep, and I wasn't here for you." I tried to smile, but I did not seem to have the energy to make it look genuine. "That's okay, David. There was nothing you could have done." David said a prayer aloud, and the three of us stood in a circle over my father. "I need to be alone for awhile," I told them. They both said that they understood. I walked in a trance up the hospital stairs. I had remembered when my grandmother Rudd passed away; my mother had taken me to the top of the building and sat there for over an hour. I instinctively walked there; almost without thinking, and sat on the same wooden bench that we had sat on together so many years ago. Nothing can describe the loneliness that I felt. I do not know how long I sat there. Time meant nothing. The sky was a deep blue, and the sun shone brightly. "Alice tells me that you haven't eaten since Thursday morning." A voice called to me; it was unmistakably Scottish. I looked up to find Neil standing by the building entrance. He had his hands behind his back and a clever smile on his face. ##################################################################### Part IX "Neil?" He walked over to me. "And that is why, I brought you this." He pulled his hand from behind his back. He was holding a glass dish of ice cream. "Strawberries and cream," he said. "But Sam Houston?" "…is alive and complaining that his arm hurts and wants to know when he can go look for arrow heads again. He only had a minor wound with soft tissue damage to the shoulder. He was a very lucky boy though." Neil sat down on the bench beside me and looked at me carefully--I could tell that he used his physician's eyes. "I have a note from him and the rest of the children in my pocket, but before I let you read it," he paused, dipped the spoon into the ice cream, and then brought a bite to my lips. "You have to eat this whole dish." "Neil don't be silly!" I reached for his pocket, but he dodged me. "No, no no. A deal is a deal." He had that mischievous grin on his face again, like he knew a secret. I opened my mouth, and he fed me the ice cream. To my surprise it tasted good. It had been so long since I had tasted ice cream. "How did you know that strawberries and cream was my favorite?" I asked. "A doctor knows these kinds of things, Miss Huddleston. Besides, you look like a strawberries and cream kind of lass." He fed me another bite. I blushed. "I can eat it on my own you know." I told him. He forced more in my mouth as if to stop my talking. "You can do everything on your own, but this time, I am not going to let you." He filled my mouth with another cool spoonful. "Are you okay?" His voice had taken a serious tone. "Yes, I think so. I am just worried about George now." I paused. "And, I can't shake this feeling that I will never be anyone's daughter again. No one will ever love me like that again." I crossed my arms so that I would not cry. "I felt that way when my parents died. But you should never say never, Miss Huddleston." He fed me another bite. "I looked in on George before I came up here. His vital signs are good, Christy, but we are just going to have to wait it out." After he fed me the last bite of ice cream, I had to admit that I felt better. "Okay, I kept my end of the bargain, can I see the letter now?" Dr MacNeill took from his pocket a homemade envelope. The children had decorated it with colors and pictures. He handed it to me. I opened it. Inside I found: a drawing that Clara had done; it was of the schoolhouse. There was also a scratchy note from Sam Houston; it read, "I'm just fine and dandy, teacher, don't fret none, but come home to us soon. We miss you." "He wrote that with his bad arm." Neil explained. "He told me to tell you that so you wouldn't think his penmanship had gone sour." Mountie had written a word for every letter in the alphabet. Ruby Mae had pressed flowers and pasted them on paper; underneath them she had written--the flowers just aren't near as purty without you here, Mizz Christy. Little Burl had written a prayer. "Dear God. Please make Mizz Christy's family all better so that she can come home to us." Lundy Taylor had written an essay. The last line read: Until Mizz Christy come to Cutter Gap, I thought that I was a no account idiot, but now I want to be a teacher like her, so I can shows other kids that they are not no account idiots. Rob Allen wrote a poem: The morning spilled over the mountains today I walked along the creek It was a deliciously warm morning for May And I found myself at the schoolhouse door But inside there was not that gleeful ray For our schoolteacher had gone away. There was also a note from John Spencer that read: I have written a song for you Mizz Christy, but you will have to come back to Cutter Gap to hear it. Tears of joy filled my eyes. I looked up at Neil, whose eyes had never left mine. "I just love how much you care about those children." He said. "I've never met anyone quite like you Christy Huddleston." We sat there for a long time. I was exhausted from running such a large range of emotion. With Neil sitting so near, I could smell him. He had a distinct scent of pipe tobacco, lie soap, and the faint bitter smell of medicine. Before I had thought, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for cheering me up." He grinned and pressed his hand on his cheek where I had kissed him. "Okay, Miss Huddleston. It's time for you to take a nap. Alice, David, and I will watch over George, but you need some sleep." He got up, took my hand, and led me back inside the hospital. ###################################################################### Part X A warm hand shook me from sleep. "Christy, wake up. Wake up Christy." I opened my eyes confused and squinted up at the person who shook me. It was David. "I'm sorry to wake you, but I promised to come get you when George woke up." I sat up and looked at David confused--still asleep. "George?" I asked. I had forgotten where I was. I had forgotten what had happened, but suddenly everything came back and I winced as if it had caused me physical pain. Finally I understood what David was saying. "George is awake?" "Yes. Yes he is!" David said. Then he took my hand gently, laced his fingers through mine and smiled. "Come with me." As we walked up the three flights of stairs, I regretted not being there the second he awoke. Why had I let myself sleep? Already I was failing Father's last request of me. As we walked down the hall, I grew nervous. How was George going to react to everything: his leg, Mother and Father? I saw him the minute we stepped into the hospital room. He still lay prostrate on the bed, but his big blue eyes were open; Neil was taking his pulse. Late afternoon sunlight lit his face. I ran down the isle of cots, scooped him from the bed, and clinched him in my arms. I held him as if he would disappear if I let go. "George, oh George," I kissed his cheek. He moaned softly because of the pain. "Christy?" He said nothing else, but he wrapped his arms around me and held me weakly. "Don't cry Christy." His voice was weak but steady. I twirled my fingers through his thick brown hair. With all his pain, he was comforting me. Maybe he didn't know. "George," I said, still clutching him in my arms. "Mother and Father…." "I know," he interrupted. I pulled away from him to see his face. I wanted to know that he was okay. He blinked thoughtfully. His eyes were still hazy from his long unconsciousness. "Oh, thank God you're safe George." I hugged him again. When I did, I felt him gasp. "Did I hurt you?" I pulled away to look at him again. His face was ashen; he was staring at his left leg. My heart broke. His hand felt the blanket where his leg should have been. "Oh Georgie. I know. I know Georgie. I'm so sorry." I felt as if I myself had betrayed him and amputated his leg. Why did I have my legs? Why should it be him and not me lying there without a leg? I wished that it had been me. I can not describe his face. It was so distorted with pain. At that moment, I would have done anything to take his pain away. "It's going to be okay, son." A voice said. I looked up. It was Uncle John. I had not even noticed that he was standing there. He gripped George's shoulder affectionately. George fell back on the bed, and I saw tears wash over his pale face. David, Alice and Neil had stepped away to give us a private moment. They were huddled in the doorway. I looked back at them searchingly. I wanted someone to tell me the answers. Someone had to know the answers. Here were the three people that I admired and trusted most in the world. I looked to them as I would have looked to Mother and Father for guidance; surely one of them could help. But they all looked at me helplessly. Each of them wore faces of pity and sadness, but no one seemed to offer the answer that I sought. And where was God? I turned and looked back at George. He was overcome with sorrow--breathless with it. He covered his eyes with his arm. And I asked myself again, where was God? Anger filled my heart. ***************** Neil sat down next to me on Father's empty cot. I felt the mattress sink under his weight. I was watching George sleep. Darkness had come again, and the room glowed golden-orange in the coal-oil lantern light. Neil and the other doctors had given George something for the pain, and now he slept soundly. Neil reached for my hand. He brushed his fingers over my palm gently. I looked at him. He transferred his gaze from my hand to my face. His kind eyes and wrinkled brow portrayed his concern. He said nothing but looked at me with such understanding. He didn't have to say anything; his expression alone melted all the guards I had been holding on to so tightly. I bowed my head and pressed my face against my fist, covering my eyes and nose. I cried silently, trying so hard to fight it, trying not to make a sound. I grit my teeth and felt the tightness in my throat. I knew that I had to be strong. I wasn't a baby anymore. George was depending on me. Neil put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him; my face was against his chest. His quiet touch was so soothing to me. "It's okay to cry Christy. It's okay." He stroked my hair softly. He said nothing else, but he continued to hold me while I cried. ********** The funeral was on Sunday. George was not well enough to go, and Uncle John's wife Polly offered to stay with him. Uncle John, David, Miss Alice, and Neil escorted me to the funeral. Miss Alice had helped me dress. I didn't even remember putting on my shoes. The funeral was a haze of faces and hugs. I could barely stand because I was so exhausted. I had only slept a few hours since Ben Pentland had handed me that telegram, and my body reacted against the lack of sleep. My eyes twitched and my stomach burned. I remember my mother's favorite song, "Amazing Grace," being played. Uncle John gave a eulogy. I had wanted to read Father's favorite poem, but everyone had advised against it, and when I sat in the front pew listening to the minister give the sermon, I was thankful that I did not have to get up and talk. People I had never met came up to me and kissed me. Women hugged me and said, "They look so peaceful, Christy" or "I am so sorry--if there is anything that I can do…" or "What a tragedy, they were much loved." The whole time, I clutched my little gold locket as if it were an amulet of protection. They were buried next to Amelia under a sugar maple. After the graveside service, we had to go to my parent's house to receive people. This was much more difficult than the funeral. The whole house smelled like my mother--lavender and talcum powder. Her needlework lay in her chair. She had been working on a Christmas tapestry. Father's latest book was turned upside down beside his bed, marking the last page that he had read. Mother had tucked my teddy bear in my bed beneath Grandma Rudd's quilt. George's baseball cleats, mitt, and team jersey cluttered the floor of his bedroom. I walked about the house in a daze. I know that people talked to me, but I only partly listened. The backs of my legs ached. David asked me to sit and eat some fried chicken, which I did without thinking. Miss Alice pulled me close to her and said, "Thee will get through this, Miss Huddleston." Neil turned to me as the day turned to late afternoon. He held a glass of fruit juice in his hand. "I'm worried about you Christy. You need some sleep." "I know, but George. I need to be with him." "You will be no good to him, Christy, if you get sick too. He's going to need all of your strength." I nodded; I didn't want to admit to him that I was afraid to sleep. I feared that I would wake, as I had before, with the feeling that everything was okay, and then have to live through the whole thing over again. "Here," he said. "I brought you some juice." He handed me the glass. I drank it. Within a few minutes I felt so sleepy that I could hardly stand. "Neil--you put something in the drink?" He picked me up, carried me up the stairs, and laid me down in my own bed. The smell of my goose down pillow was so peaceful. I sunk deep into the mattress. I had forgotten how soft my bed was. Neil covered me with the quilt. "Sleep well, Christy." He used such a soft voice that it was like listening to the river. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. Then he left me. ****** I awoke to find Miss Alice sitting beside me. I was holding my teddy bear in my arms. I felt like I was ten years old. She smiled at me. "How long have I been asleep?" I asked. "All yesterday afternoon, last night, and some this morning." She said. "But thee needed the rest." She took my teddy bear in her hands and smiled at it. "How does thou feel?" "Better." I said. "But George?" "He is fine," she assured me. "He is talking to some doctors this morning about physical therapy. Don't worry--Neil and David are there with him." "Christy, we need to talk about thy future. We need to talk about whether or not thee will return to Cutter Gap?" ###################################################################### PART XI I awoke to find Miss Alice sitting beside me. I was holding my teddy bear in my arms. I felt like I was ten years old. She smiled at me. "How long have I been asleep?" I asked. "All yesterday afternoon, last night, and some this morning." She said. "But thee needed the rest." I looked down to find that I still had on the dress that I had worn to the funeral. "How does thou feel?" "Better." I said. "But George?" "He is fine," she assured me. "He was suppose to talk to some doctors early this morning about physical therapy. Don't worry--Neil and David are there with him." "Christy, we need to talk about thy future. We need to talk about whether or not thee will return to Cutter Gap?" Her words stunned me; yet, Miss Alice was right. What was going to become of my future? Everything that I had planned suddenly lay broken before me with no hopes of repair. I had new responsibilities. Nothing was the same; my whole life had changed in an instant. Cutter Gap? Would I ever be able to return to my children? How could I with George? Miss Alice took my hand. "I'm sorry Christy. I did not mean to burden thy already troubled mind with more troubles. But I wanted thee to know that I am here to help thee if thee needs me." I smiled at her. "It's okay, Miss Alice," I shook my head. "You are right. I have a lot to think about." I sighed heavily. A great weight lay across my shoulders. "I suppose my return to Cutter Gap depends on George. But I don't know Miss Alice. I feel so lost." "Thee has been thinking a lot about God?" How did she do it? How did she know what I was thinking? "Yes." I admitted. "And what has thou discovered?" "I don't know Miss Alice. I don't know anymore." "Bad things happen, Christy, it doesn't mean that God doesn't care." Miss Alice wrapped me in one of her meaningful silences. In its warmth, I found no uneasiness, nor did I seek to fill it with ill fitting words, for in her silence, I found only peace and reflection. After a time she put her finger to her lips to cover her smile. Her smile seemed to be more from pride than happiness. "Thee mustn't struggle so, my dear Christy," she said. "God will provide the answers thee seeks. Thee only needs to listen with thy heart." She stood up and presented my worn teddy bear back to me. "Now, I am going down stairs to fix thee something to eat. Thee has received many letters and cards. I have put them here on thy nightstand. Thee can read some while I go to prepare thy breakfast." I found a pile of envelopes in a silver tray. "Thank you," I said with a smile. And Miss Alice left the room. When she did I picked up the pile of envelopes. Most were fancy linen envelopes with wax seals across their backs. But one envelope struck my fancy, for it was made of a low-grade paper and did not have a formal appearance. With the society restraints in Asheville, I wondered who could have sent it. I turned it over and opened it. The letter was from Margaret MacNeill. It read: Dear Miss Huddleston: I am truly sorry to hear of your sad news. I wanted so much to bring you flowers or something of cheer as you had done for me on a day when I felt lower than ever before. I have never met anyone like you. You gave your friendship to me even though I did nothing to deserve it; and while I do not understand it, I am grateful for it. Under the circumstances, we should hate one another; yet, I can not bring myself to hate you. I have tried. It seems that you are the first friend I have had in a long, long time. I hate to think you are sad. As I could not send flowers, I thought to send you these two poems. Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote both. They are two of my favorites. I hope they bring some comfort to you. Your friend, Margaret "The Flower that Smiles Today" The flower that smiles today Tomorrow dies; All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies; What is this world's delight? Lightning, that mocks the night, Breif even as bright.-- Virtue, how frail it is!-- Freindship, how rare!-- Love, how it sells poor bliss For proud despair! But these though soon they fall, Survive their joy, and all Which ours we call.-- Whilst skies are blue and bright, Whilst flowers are gay, Whilest eyes that change ere night Make glad the day; Whilst yet the calm hours creep, Dream thou--and from thy sleep Then wake to weep. "A Dirge" Rough wind, that moans loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm, whose tears are vain, Bare woods, whose branches strain, Deep caves and dreary main,-- Wail, for the world's wrong! I had tears in my eyes after I had read her letter. I could not believe it. I read it again. It seemed so unlike her; yet there it was in beautiful blue ink. I had always felt that there was something fragile about Margaret, something exquisite beneath her tough exterior. Maybe God had led me to her that day. The door to my room opened, and Neil walked inside. "How's my patient feeling today?" He asked with a grin. His reddish-brown hair was disheveled and a familiar curl fell over his face. I stared at him unable to speak. He looked at me with concern. "What is it?" His eyes swept over my face. Then he smiled. "You aren't angry at me for giving you that sedative are you?" No words came to me. What was I supposed to say? When I looked at him, I saw Margaret. Her letter was still in my hands, and within the letter lay the essence of why Neil MacNeill had married her. In that letter was the answer to why he had handed me the lavender silk dress with sadness on his face. In that letter, I had found the little girl who had crossed a schoolyard to help a friend. I sat speechless. ###################################################################### PART XII I stared at Neil for a long time, wondering if I should let him read the letter. His bright blue eyes cut right through me. "What is it?" He asked again. He stood tall in the yellow sunlight. The sleeves of his olive, plaid shirt were rolled up in the manner that I was accustomed to seeing them; he wore his leather suspenders. His face had been freshly shaven; it was smooth and clean. The creases between his brows deepened when he looked at me. I loved that look. Still, I did not speak; instead, I handed him the letter. He took it from my hand and began to read. I noticed that he continued to look at it for several minutes after he had finished reading. When he finally looked up, he didn't speak. He didn't need to. He nodded with a melancholy smile on his lips, and I knew what he felt. "Here is thy breakfast, Christy." Miss Alice broke our trance when she entered the room. Dr. MacNeill cleared his throat. "Yes, good, you need to eat something Miss Huddleston." And with this statement, I knew that he had retreated from the scene by becoming the physician. "You can not afford to get sick. You need to take better care of yourself." The flatness of this statement stung me a little, but I nodded curtly. Miss Alice handed me a plate of steaming French toast with powdered sugar, syrup, and cinnamon on top. "My mother used to make French toast on Sundays." I said. "I am here to take you to the hospital when you are ready. There is a certain young gentleman that is eager to see his sister." Neil bowed, formally, put the letter on my nightstand, and left the room. Miss Alice pulled a chair next to my bed and sat down. "Does thee mind if I sit here while thou eats." "No, please." I said and took a bite of French toast. "Mmm, it's very good, Miss Alice. Thank you for making it for me." I ate another bite. "Thou art welcome." "Thee does look much better, Christy." She said. She thought for a moment and looked around my room. "Wilst thou sell this house, Christy?" She asked. I looked around the room too. I had so many memories of my mother singing lullabies and playing dolls with me and of Father tucking the covers around me. "I haven't thought about that. I don't know." I wanted to change the subject. The idea of making so many decisions made me feel tired. "I want to show you something," I said and reached for Margaret's letter. She read it while I ate. A smile spread over her face. Her reaction contrasted sharply with Neil's. She touched my cheek. "Leave it to thee, Miss Huddleston. Thee is a wonder. " Her happiness intoxicated me, and I ate the entire plate of French toast. "You are going to have to go home soon, Miss Alice. You can't stay here forever. The mission has no one there." Then a horrible thought flashed before me. "Ruby Mae? " I said. I felt sick; I had not thought about where she was or who was taking care of her. "She is at the Spencer's, Christy. She's fine." I sighed with relief. "And Margaret, she may need you." She tapped her foot. "Margaret will not see me." I got up and washed my face and hands in the wash basin. The cool water felt so good. I changed behind the wooden screen. Miss Alice had said nothing, but after I had dressed, she said. "I want make sure that thee is okay before I return to Cutter Gap. " ******************** At the hospital, I was surprised to find baskets of flowers and many people hovering around George's bed. He was sitting up and talking to them. Many were boys that he went to school with. "Christy--" he said when he saw me. He stretched his hands out to me. I hugged him. "I'm sorry I wasn't here this morning, George." I said. "Dr. MacNeill said that you needed the rest. He told me about the juice." He tilted his head in that funny way he had--his ear touching his right shoulder. "I only wish I could have been there to see your face." "It wasn't funny at all." I said. "It was dreadfully embarrassing." "That's the glory of it!" He said this with a grin, but his grin was not convincing. I could see that he was tired. He clenched his teeth together. The pain must have been terrible. The young boys that stood around him spoke intensely about baseball and horseback riding. I could see George grimace at each word. The others had noticed too, and an awkward silence fell over us. I saw David's lanky frame standing in the corner. His arms were crossed. He also looked tired. Dark rings lay under his eyes. How kind it was for him to be here for me after all that I had put him through. When he caught my eyes on him, he smiled. George tried earnestly to be brave. His eyes shone softly. I wanted to hug him again, but I feared that it would embarrass him in front of his friends. Finally, I had had enough. "Okay," I stated. "I am so glad that you all came to visit, but I think George needs some rest now." Everyone said their good-byes, and when they had left the room, George sighed with relief and exhaustion. I sat next to him. "Are you in pain, Georgie?" "Yeah, a little." "I'll get a doctor." David called. "What did the doctors say this morning?" I asked. "They said that I don't have a left leg." George's attempts to be funny back fired and caused tears to fill his eyes, but he did not cry. "George?" "They said that with hard work and a wooden leg, I would be able to walk. Dr. MacNeill seemed to think that I should be able to ride a horse someday." His expression remained distant. When the doctors came in, they gave him a shot of morphine. After several minutes he fell asleep. I spent a long day by George's side. He drifted in and out of sleep. I sent David home to rest. I had not seen Neil since the morning. Miss Alice and Uncle John stayed with me. We discussed the house and assets. They both advised me to sell the house. Uncle John begged for me to let George live with him and Polly. "How could I do that," I told him. "When I promised father that I would take care of him myself." "But your work is in Cutter Gap. And don't fib to me girl; I know that it is important to you. Your father always told me how much Cutter Gap meant to you." I felt for my gold locket. At eleven o'clock, my head ached with stress. I could not bring myself to talk about legal papers and the estate anymore. The doctors had given George something to help him sleep. He was not resting well. They assured us that he would not wake till morning, so we resolved to go home. Once in my own room, I opened the windows for some air. Oh how I missed the night air of Cutter Gap--I missed the mountains. A soft summer zephyr came from the window, carrying with it the scent of Mother's flower garden. I crawled under the covers and fell asleep. ************ I dreamed of the train wreck. Mother and Father were boarding. I watched them wave goodbye--but I could not speak to them. I could not tell them to get off. They were smiling. Everything moved in slow motion. I could not get to the train fast enough to stop them. I awoke as if I were catching myself from a fall. I looked up to find Neil sitting next to me on the bed. It was still dark outside. He was immersed in silver moonlight. He looked like an apparition; was I dreaming? "Shhh, Lass--it was only a dream," he said. "I didn't mean to wake you." "Neil?" I said. "Yes, it's me." He whispered. "Go back to sleep." But I couldn't sleep. I had become entangled in his gaze. I could see the moonlight reflect in his eyes. He stared at me. I must be dreaming. After a long silence, he said, "Will you dance with me, Miss Huddleston?" "What? Here? Now? But there is no music and…" He scooped me out of bed and carried me over to the window where the moonlight drifted in like lapping water. He set me on my feet and gathered me in his arms. We danced closely. My face rested against his shoulder. He hummed. I could feel the vibrations in his chest. Then he sang in a hushed voice: Down in the Valley The Valley so low Hang your head over Hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow, lass Hear the wind blow Hang your head over Hear the wind blow My eyes closed with the sound of it. I felt dreamy and dizzy at the same time. His lips brushed softly over my temple. I turned to him. He looked serene--a wash of silver and blue. He wore a tranquil, sorrowful expression. He leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips. "I have to go, Christy. I have to go back to Cutter Gap--tonight." He held me tighter. "I just wanted to see you one more time before I left. I hadn't planned on waking you." My eyes ached. Couldn't he see that he was tearing me apart? I became engulfed with the idea that this was the last time he would ever hold me in his arms. I didn't want to let go. He picked me up and placed me back into bed. Then he left as though he had never been there at all. ###################################################################### Part XIII On Thursday, the week anniversary of my receiving the telegram, the doctors released George from the hospital. It was almost impossible for me to believe that only a week had passed. It felt like a lifetime. We brought George home in Mother and Father's carriage. He had a wonderful smile on his face throughout the ride. "It is so good to be out of that hospital." He said. Dr. MacNeill had left as unexpectedly as he had had come, and no one mentioned him after we had discovered his note explaining that he had to return to Cutter Gap. But I continued to think about him, even though I knew that I had to forget him. Miss Alice and David were to leave on the Friday morning train for El Pano, and my heart ached with the thought of it. I had not realized how much I had depended on them for help and support. I feared that with their going, all hopes of my returning to Cutter Gap disappeared with them. George had always been athletic, and on his crutches, he was nimble and quick. I smiled with pride as I saw him standing on our front lawn. He was much taller than I remembered. He had grown in my absence, I supposed. This was the first time I had seen him standing since I had come home. I thanked God that he was okay. I think that if he had been taken from me too, I would not have been able to continue. But as I watched him standing there with joy in his expression, I swelled with pride. What a great human being he was. He still found joy even after what had happened to him. For a moment, all was right with the world. A familiar sense of peace and home filled my heart. Perhaps everything would be okay after all. I was proud that he was my brother. I knew Mother and Father would have been proud too. I wondered if I had been in his place, would I have been standing in the grass smiling. We had an elegant dinner that night to celebrate George's homecoming. Tall thin candles provided light for the meal, and Aunt Polly had prepared roast duck in orange sauce. She had delicate portions of scalloped potatoes and asparagus positioned artistically on my mother's china. And I laughed when I compared it to Ruby Mae's opossum surprise. "What are you giggling about Christy Huddleston?" David asked, his eyes smiling back at me. "I was just wishing for some opossum surprise." David and Miss Alice laughed with me. Aunt Polly, Uncle John, their two young girls--Grace and Charlotte, and George just watched with interest. "You eat opossum in Cutter Gap?" Grace, the oldest Burton girl, asked. The horror on her face and the wrinkle of her nose made me giggle even more. There had been a time when I would have worn the same expression. But I was a different person now. Different because of Cutter Gap. I smiled reflecting on how much I had changed since I had left Asheville. After dinner we sat in the parlor and talked. It was nice to have George home. He teased Charlotte and Grace. Both girls had a secret crush on him, and they blushed when he paid them the slightest attention. "Your girls are charming," David said to John and Polly. He watched them so intently, and his interest brought a vision to my mind of David as a father. He would make such a wonderful father. He would teach his daughter to dance like my father had done. I could see him clearly in my mind with a little girl's hands in his, laughing at her watching his feet. This thought made me sad; for, if I should ever marry, my father would not be there to dance with me at my wedding. I had always had daydreams of my standing on his toes again. We would have danced to "Wild Irish Rose." But now he would not be there. No matter how hard I wished for it, he would not be there. And he would not be there to walk me down the isle or to take his grandchildren fishing. But why was I thinking about a wedding? I was never going to marry. George retired early. And when the Burton's left for home, I helped David and Miss Alice gather their things. When they had packed, Miss Alice hugged me. "Good night, Child." She said. She went into the guestroom across from my room and closed the door. David lingered downstairs in the parlor. I went down to see if he needed anything before going to bed myself. "Christy," he said after I had come down the stairs. "If you want me to stay, you know that I will." "Oh David that is so kind of you," I said. "But you have to get back. You have responsibilities to the cove. Besides, I am counting on you to take care of those children. I need you to write letters and let me know what's going on there." I felt that I was going to cry. I could not bare the thought that I may never see the children of Cutter Gap again. "You're coming back to us Christy--aren't you?" He looked worried. "I can't make it there without you." "Of course you can make it without me. You made it without me before I came." "I was miserable," he said and shook his head. "I thought about leaving so many times until you came." I recalled the storming night when I had first set foot on the mission porch. I had fallen into David's arms, and he had carried me to bed. I wish that I could go back to that first morning in Cutter Gap. Things were so uncomplicated then. I had felt so free and alive. I could still feel the cool, dew filled grass on the palms of my hands after I had done those cartwheels. David hugged me, and while I was still in his arms, he said, "Oh Christy, here I am talking about how I feel and not even thinking of you." He pulled away and looked directly into my eyes. "You have been through so much. I only wish that I could take it all away for you." "David, you do make me feel better." "I will go back to Cutter Gap and write you everyday--you will know when an acorn falls, Miss Huddleston." I smiled. "Thank you David." ****************** And that next morning, after their train had departed the station and I had waved good-bye with all my might, I felt truly alone. ###################################################################### Part XIV Two months had past before George could work with his prosthesis or "wooden leg" as he called it. "Let's not pretend that it is something that it isn't," he had told me. George had always been a precocious boy, but lately he had become even more mature and cynical for his age. The doctors had told him that his leg had to heal before he could start working on walking; thus, we had waited. Now, he had to go to physical therapy twice a day. And, because he had decided to try to finish his schooling as soon as possible, he attended summer school in between his therapy. I took him to the hospital every morning, to school after that, and then back to the hospital in the evenings. I took an education course to try to sharpen my teaching skills, but my heart was not in it. I found the work tedious and the professor dull and uninspiring. It was late July and nearing the time when I would have been planning for the new school year in Cutter Gap. True to his word, David had written everyday. Some days two letters would arrive together, but they never included information about Dr. MacNeill; and, in the last letter I had received, David wrote that Dr. Ferrand mentioned that they would have to contract a new teacher if I did not return by mid August. My heart broke. I felt so miserable. What was my life going to become? Who was I? Why was God letting this happen to me? Miss Alice's letters brought some cheer. She described in more detail what the children were doing. Sam Houston's arm was totally recovered; and Miss Alice had held a special summer class about the importance of respecting and following gun safety. She assured me how much I was missed. She said that the children asked everyday when I would return. She explained that if they did contract another teacher, it would only be temporary. "Thee can not be replaced, Christy." This brought tears to my eyes. She talked about Margaret, but they were still not on speaking terms. Miss Alice's letters seldom mentioned Dr. MacNeill. Why should she? I asked myself. I wore sadness like a coat. I had thought about writing Dr. MacNeill so many times. I could not count how many times I picked up the pen and wrote "Dear Dr. MacNeill," but each time I wadded the paper up and threw it into the trash can. He was a married man, I told myself. I wondered if he ever thought about writing to me. But his life had moved on. He had Margaret. Of course he didn't think of me. And hadn't I set out to get them back together--to reconcile Margaret, Miss Alice and Neil. Why did it still hurt so much? And then I remembered the night that we danced in the moonlight. It seemed so long ago and so surreal. Maybe it had been a dream after all. In the evenings, George and I were both so exhausted that we spoke very little. We ate small dinners and usually retired to bed early. "George, is everything okay at school?" I asked him one evening as we were eating. We had come home late from the hospital, and, as I had not had time to prepare supper, we ate only salad and bread. "Yeah." He said unconvincingly. "Then why have you been so down lately. Are you okay?" "I wish you would quit fussing over me all the time. I wish everyone would stop. I am tired of people acting like I am going to break if they look at me funny." "Well, I am sorry if my concern bothers you so much." I regretted saying it as soon as I had finished. I was not angry with George. I was angry with myself for not being able to help him, and I was upset over the fact that Cutter Gap may have a new schoolteacher. "I'm sorry, George," I said. "I'm just tired." I turned to the pile of mail that lay in front of me on the table. I opened a letter from David. "Is that from Rev. Grantland?" George asked. His voice sounded as though he was sorry that he had lost his temper too. "Yes," I said. "You miss it a lot, don't you?" He asked. "Yes." I admitted. George got up from his chair, tucked the crutches under his arms, and came over to me. He knelt before me on his one good leg. He held both crutches in his left hand. "Then why don't we go there, Christy. Why don't we just go? I want to get away from here. I want to get away from the constant reminders of the person I used to be. And you want to get back to the person that you have become. I can not bare to see you so sad. I can't bare that you are sad because of me." His chin quivered. "And I can not bare to see my "Most Valuable Player" plaque hanging on the wall at school. I can not bare another day of seeing the boys that I used to horse around with run through the hallways without me." He was desperately crying now with his head in my lap. "I can't take it anymore, Christy. I can't!" "What makes you think it will be different in Cutter Gap?" I asked. "Because the people there will only know me as I am now. They never knew who I used to be. They won't treat me as if I am half a person." We had hit bottom, George and I. I ran my fingers through his thick, straight hair as mother used to do. I tried to picture George in Cutter Gap. I worried about the rough, steep terrain. How would he manage there? "What about your physical therapy? " I asked. "Dr. MacNeill could help me. He told me before that he could get me riding a horse." I smiled at this thought. I wanted desperately to say yes, but was I saying yes only because it was what I wanted? Was this what was best for George? Oh how I longed for Mother and Father. "Are you sure Georgie?" I asked. "Yes, I am sure. I have never been more sure of anything in my life." "Let me think about it some, okay Georgie. I don't want to rush into a decision." He smiled up at me. The blue of his eyes seemed even bluer because of the red lines that surrounded it. "It is the right thing Christy--I know it is." I almost choked with emotion when I saw his face. And the thought of possibly returning to Cutter Gap overwhelmed me. We could not eat after that. I told George good night and then retired with the mail to my room. If only I knew that I was doing the right thing. Miss Alice had said that George was welcome at the mission house, if I decided to return, but was it right? I looked above me, not at the ceiling, but past that. I was looking for God. What do I do now? I asked. I sighed. I stared without thoughts at the lantern on my nightstand. I was so tired. My bones felt tired. Finally I snapped out of the malaise and began to open the mail. There were the usual bills and statements, but among these was a letter with no return address. I looked at it curiously. Then I opened it. There was a small piece of paper inside. I found no name or any indication as to who had sent it, but in a messy scribble of ink I found these words: Down in the Valley Valley so low Hang your head over Hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow, lass Hear the wind blow Hang your head over Hear the wind blow. I smiled and held the letter to my heart. ******************* The next morning, with George by my side, I called the mission house. "Hello?" A familiar voice said. "Ruby Mae, this is Miss Christy." "Mizz Christy? It's Mizz Christy. " I heard her say. The second time she said my name her voice sounded as if she had turned away from the mouth piece. Her excitement was matched only by the race of my heartbeat. "Oh, Mizz, we miss you a powerful lot. Things just ain't the same here. No one is happy without ya. I don't have no one to brush my hair, or read to me, or talk to about--" "Ruby Mae," I interrupted her. "I just called to tell you that George and I are coming to Cutter Gap next week. We should arrive on Saturday afternoon." "Oh Mizz Christy! Mizz Christy." She was out of breath and sounded as if she were jumping up and down. She turned from the mouthpiece again. "She's coming home--she's coming home!" Then there was a rattle and thumping and then David's voice. "Christy? Is it true?" "Yes, it's true. We will be there Saturday." "I don't know what to say--I am speechless. I can't wait to see you. Alice isn't here right now. She's in Cataleechie." "Oh David, don't tell anyone--I think it would be nice to surprise everyone." "That's a tall order, Christy Huddleston." He said. I could tell he was smiling. "A secret like that would be worth gold around here." "David, please." "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." He said. "Should I come and get you two in El Pano?" He asked. "That would be wonderful. We will leave on the morning train from Asheville. But do it discretely, so no one suspects. Don't tell anyone. Not even Miss Alice." When I hung up the receiver, happiness bloomed all over me. ###################################################################### XV After George's morning therapy, we went to the train station to buy our tickets. I wanted something tangible to prove that we were going back to Cutter Gap. It was a hot day, but George visibly trembled as we stood in line. "George, oh George, I am so sorry. I had not even thought about what this train ride would be like for you. How could I be so insensitive? We can go to Cutter Gap another way if you would rather." "No, Christy," he said. "I can not stop getting on trains just because I am afraid. I just have to get over it. I have to face it. You know what Father would say--" "If you fall off a horse you have to get right back on." We said this together as if we had rehearsed it. Then we laughed. George's trembling seemed to abate somewhat, but I watched him out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly, I thought that I had not bothered to ask him about the accident. I had not asked him to tell me what happened that day, or even offered to listen if he wanted to talk about it. I had been afraid to ask him. I feared that it would upset him; but, as I stood there in line, I realized that I was afraid for myself too. I did not want to hear gruesome details that would haunt me forever. When it was our turn at the window, I turned to George and asked him. "Are you sure? We can find another way if you want." He stood there and stared back at me. His eyes were bowed with anxiety. "Miss, we have people waiting behind you." The man at the window said. I paid no attention to him; I continued watching George. George took a deep breath and finally said. "Yes, I am sure." I turned to the man at the window. "Two one-way tickets to El Pano," I said. ************************ After I dropped George off at the hospital for evening therapy, I went to Uncle John's house. "What? You can't take George to Cutter Gap!" Uncle John said. We sat in his study. Books and mahogany shelves surrounded us. The room felt stuffy. We were sipping lemonade. Uncle John put his glass down on a coaster and moved to the edge of his chair. "That is what George wants to do." I said. "Christy, George is only 14 years old. He can't possibly know what is best." "I am sorry to disagree with you. You know that I respect your opinion, John, but I think George does know what is best." I tried to keep my voice calm and confident. "I think that Cutter Gap would accept George far faster than the high society of Asheville. You don't know the people of the cove. You have never been there. The mountain people understand suffering. They can sympathize with it. They would not offer the pity that is already drowning George here." "Christy. I understand why you want to go back. I want you to be able to go back to your mission. But taking George, is a mistake." "I disagree." "What kind of education can he get there?" I crossed my arms. I was not going to budge. "You ARE stubborn." He said. "And what about his medical needs." He continued. "He is going to need a good doctor." "Dr. MacNeill is the finest doctor I know!" John's face appeared agitated, and he studied my eyes carefully. "This is not what your father would have wanted for George." This statement stung me, but I did not flinch. "I'm sure that he would not have wanted George to lose his leg either, but things happen. We have to make the best of it and move on. George is a different person now. Father never knew George as he is now." "And how is he now?" "Depressed, tired, and hopeful--all at the same time." "Christy. I think you are making a mistake, but you know I will support you with what ever you decide." I smiled at John. "Thank you," I said. His thin mustache lifted as his lips formed a smile. "And what about the house?" "At first we thought that we would sell it. I thought it would be good to put the money in an account for George's college, but since Mother and Father have already done that, we thought that we would keep it." I paused to take a sip of lemonade. Polly had made it a little too sour for me. My lips puckered each time I took a sip. "I don't feel like going through Mother and Father's things just yet. I am not ready for that and neither is George. I intended for us to go to Cutter Gap on a trial basis. I don't want to cut all ties with Asheville until I am sure that this is what will be best for George. I talked to Rev. Thompson, yesterday. We are going to let the church use the house for meetings and dinners. In exchange, they will keep the house in order." Uncle John sank back into his seat, and his smile grew. His mustache was now stretched across his face. He shook his head. "I underestimated you, Christy Huddleston." He said. "I thought that you were being rash and hasty with your decision to go to Cutter Gap, but it appears to me now that you have thought long and hard about this. You certainly cover all your basis, don't you?" He tilted his head slightly; his face took on an endearing look. "You are wise beyond your years, darlin'. If you were my daughter, I would tell you that I was proud of you." His words filled my heart with warmth. **************************** George and I packed all day; and that evening, our last in Asheville, I surprised him by taking him down to the soda fountain. We used to go there as kids, especially if one of had a bad day. It was a hot July evening, and I knew that this would be our last opportunity to have ice cream. The soft evening light and the glow of the city stores brought back the feelings of childhood. It wasn't really memories that came to me--it was more a state of being---a familiar child-like sense. We sat in one of the leather booths. George ordered a chocolate soda and a banana split. I ordered two dips of strawberries and cream. When I put the first bite in my mouth, I thought of Neil. "You're in love with Dr. MacNeill aren't you?" George asked. He pointed his spoon at me. I was astounded. He had read my mind. I was so surprised that I could not speak. All I could do was watch him as his sly smile appeared on his lips. "I'm right aren't I?" He laughed and took a bite of his banana split. "You can't fool me, girlie. I know you too well." I finally found words and threw them out awkwardly. "Dr. MacNeill and I are just friends. I---" George's laugh interrupted me. He shook his head. He wore that silly smile; it was plastered on his face. "It's true George--we are just friends. Even if I wanted it, we could never be anything more than that." "Why not?" He asked, thoroughly licking his spoon. "Because he is already married." George looked serious now. "Married?" As we ate our ice cream, I told George the story of Margaret MacNeill. ###################################################################### Part XVI George had insisted on wearing his wooden leg on the train. He could only put a modest amount of weight on it, so he used the crutches to help him along. He wore his nice brown trousers, a starched white shirt, and a formal burgundy silk vest. He looked so handsome as we stood waiting to board our train. He had combed his hair neatly, his expression was thoughtful, and his eyes were blue-grey like dark, storm clouds. I had worried all night about the train ride. But standing there on the platform, he didn't appear to breathe hard or shake, so I grew hopeful. When we boarded, I noticed beads of perspiration on his forehead. And after we had sat down and the train started to inch forward, the droplets of sweat dripped down his temples and wet his dark hair. I took his hand. "I'm okay," he said. He looked embarrassed, so I let go. He smiled. "Honestly, Sis, I'm not a little boy anymore you know." "I know." I smiled back at him. I recalled the day that Father had first put me on the train to El Pano. I had felt the same way--part of me had wanted to hold his hand and part of me wanted to be treated like an adult. After we had passed the holler where the train wreck had occurred, he seemed relieved. He relaxed and sunk into his chair. We ate sandwiches and pickles at mid morning. Neither of us had eaten breakfast. After our snack, he snuggled against his seat and closed his eyes. I was excited about returning to Cutter Gap and nervous at the same time. I kept watching the window for familiar landmarks. I thought that we would never arrive, but finally the conductor called out, "El Pano!" My stomach leaped. As we stepped off the train, I saw David. He wore his clumsy hat and a smile. I waved at him but tried to contain my excitement. He crossed the platform in three large strides and hugged me too tightly. "Oh David. It is so good to see you!" I said. "We have missed you so much, Christy. And I must say, George, you look great--we're glad to have you here." David shook George's hand. "Thank you Rev. Grantland--I am glad to be here." David nodded and then began to load our trunks into the wagon. George and I had one large trunk each. "Christy what do you have in here--lead?" "No, just books and clothes and things." I told him. I sat in the back of the wagon with the trunks, while George sat up front with David. The entire ride to Cutter Gap, David told George embarrassing stories about me: about my first night in the cove, about my pointed shoes in the mud, and my swim with Theo in Big Spoon Creek. George laughed all the way up the mountain. But I only half listened. I was busy taking in the mountains. They had become like family to me. It was just now noon, and the sun hung at its highest spot. Yellow sunshine filled the treetops; it glinted golden and white on the water of the French Broad River. It was hot, but not as hot as Asheville, for a gentle wind swept over us. The grass moved like rabbit fur in the breeze. I wanted to run my fingers over its velvety surface. Bird songs filled the warm air. I watched the light fade as a cloud covered the sun and then brighten again as it peaked out from behind. I took deep breaths to inhale the landscape. The mudhole was still there. I marveled at its tenacity to hold its position even in the heat of summer. David veered around it and then brought the wagon back on the road. We continued on the dirt road, which wound along with Tumbling Creek through the mountains. I turned to David "So no one knows we are coming right, David?" I said. "I did not tell a soul." He said. But as we approached the mission, I heard music playing, and when we came over the hill, I saw a huge gathering of people in front of the schoolhouse. "David you said no one knew." "No, I said that I did not tell a soul--what I didn't say--was that Ruby Mae told everyone." I laughed. Ruby Mae came galloping to meet us. She had a great wide grin on her face. Her eyes were wild with excitement. She jumped into the back of the wagon with me. "Oh Mizz Christy! Is it really you?" She touched my face with her fingers as if to make sure that I was not a ghost. "Yes, It's me, Ruby Mae." "Oh. Mizz Christy. I missed you something fierce--I have so much to tell ya. I don't know where's to start. I reckon I will start with the best of it. Rob Allen has asked me to marry him." "What?" I asked. Shock broke the serenity of the mountains. "Ruby Mae--you're only sixteen. You can't get married yet. Why, your still a--" "I know, Mizz Christy--I told Rob that I would talk to you about it first." She smiled proudly. "Oh, Ruby Mae, I am proud of you." And I hugged her. "But you ain't got time to think about that now--there's a party waiting fer you!" When the wagon stopped and I jumped down, the children stormed me. I had several in my arms at once, and the rest gathered about me. They were giving out hugs and kisses and flowers. Sam Houston, Creed Allen, Mountie O'Teale, Zaddy and Lulu, Zach, Little Burl, Bessie--oh they were all there. They had all grown--all of them were taller, some were thinner and others chubbier cheeked. But they were all so beautiful to behold. "Mizz Christy, Mizz Christy, we missed you." They said. My heart swelled with joy. "How good it is to see thee, Miss Huddleston!" Miss Alice said. She squeezed through the children to give me a hug. How nice it was to see her smiling face again. She wore her hat complete with hat pins. Her off-white blouse had been carefully ironed and tucked into a long skirt. Her deep brown eyes were as kind and as soft as I had remembered. When I saw her, I felt as if I had been away for years. She turned to George. "George," she said. "Thou art welcome here! Thee looks a sight better than the last time I saw thee. I am so glad." She hugged him too and patted him on the shoulder gently. Then Fairlight came to hug me. It had been so long since I had seen Fairlight. She looked more like a highland princess than ever before. She stood tall and graceful. "I missed you so much," I told her. "Me too." She replied. I looked around. It seemed that everyone in the cove was there. Jeb Spencer played the fiddle with John on the harmonica. Dan Scott stood smiling with his hat in his hands. Bob and Mary Allen were there. Swannie and Nathan sat on the ground next to Jeb. Uncle Bogg laughed heartily as he told Ault Allen a story. Even Bird's Eye Taylor had come with Lundy by his side. I saw Opal and Tom. Tom held Iris in his arms. Aunt Hattie was singing. Ben Pentland stood with a toothy grin. And Margaret and Neil stood together beside a long table full of food, pies and punch. Everyone was there, everyone. It overwhelmed me. I stood speechless looking at all my friends. The children had made a banner that read, "Welcome Back Miss Chirsty!" and another banner that read, "Welcome George." I felt tears come to my eyes, and I said. "All this for me and George?" "Of course," Fairlight said. "We missed you something awful, Christy!" I had goosebumps all down my arms, even my shoulders and neck felt tingly. Oh how I loved these people. Everyone came to hug me or shake my hand. George was overwhelmed too. He looked around astonished. Everyone welcomed George. They asked him about Asheville and told him that he looked like me. They took to him instantly as if he were one of their own, and Geroge looked so happy. Margaret came up and gave me a hug. She wore a yellow calico dress, which struck me as oddly sentimental and unlike her. "I'm glad that you are back," she said. "I am so sorry about your loss." Her expression appeared sincere. Then she looked as if she remembered something. "Here," she said. "These are for you." She handed me a bundle of flowers that tied with a pink satin ribbon. "Thank you," I said. I took the flowers and smelled them. They smelled like honeysuckles. "And thank you for your letter and poems, Margaret. It meant a lot to me." She smiled with her eyes. Neil stood behind Margaret. He wore his tall, shiny riding boots that came to his knee. His khaki trousers were tucked neatly inside. His shirt was dark blue--I had never seen it before. He stepped forward and hugged me. While still gripping my arms, he looked at me and said. "We've missed you, Miss Huddleston. How have you been holding up these passed few months?" Hearing his Scottish accent had the same affect that the mountains had had on me. I had not realized how much I had missed it. His gaze held my eyes, and an awkwardness settled over me. How must I look to everyone. Finally, I said. "Well, it has been hard, but now that I am here, I'm better than ever." He grinned and then released his grip. "I'm glad to hear that. And George," he said turning his attentions to my brother. "Your health seems to have returned." "Thank you sir," George said and then smiled knowingly at me. I could feel my ears turn hot. Then I noticed Margaret's sad face. I felt uneasy, but then I reminded myself that Neil and I were just friends. ######################################################################DISCLAIM Part XVII John and Jeb stopped playing, and John walked over to George and me. "Miss Christy." He said. "I wanted to play the song that I wrote for you." "Oh, I would love to hear it, John." I told him and then looked at Fairlight. The sun was in her hair, and she watched John proudly. I followed Fairlight's gaze back to John. His eyes were as green as the grass under his feet. He nodded to his father and they played together. They must have practiced it many times, for the music flowed like water over rocks. The song itself trickled slowly and beautifully. It had such color and emotion--reminding me of something I had heard by Johannes Brahms. The music brought with it all the memories of my time in Cutter Gap. The memories flowed before me one right after another as if I were turning pages in a photo album. John was even more talented than I remembered. Or perhaps he had grown in my absence. I was so honored that this song was for me. When they had stopped playing, John looked at me confused. "Are you okay, Mizz Christy?" He asked. I had not realized that the music had made me cry. "Oh, yes, John, I am fine. It's just that your song was so beautiful." John's chest expanded with pride, and his face tinged pink. "Thank you Mizz Christy. I wanted it to be special fer you." Dr. MacNeill, who stood beside me, tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and saw that he offered me his white handkerchief. He winked at me and then quietly chuckled to himself over my emotional reaction to the song. John walked back over and stood next to his father. They were the same height now. John seemed to have filled out some in my absence. He looked more like a man standing next to Jeb. They began to play again. This time they played a waltz. A booming voice from behind me called out. "Might I have this dance?" It was Dr. Ferrand. He held his hand out to me. What was he doing here? I looked around to see whom he was talking to; then I looked back at him. "Me?" I asked. "Of course, you, Miss Huddleston. After all you are the guest of honor here right?" I smiled and then took his hand. We danced on the grassy meadow that was encircled by the mission wagon, the pond, Jeb and John, and the long food table. As we danced, others joined us. "I am so glad that you came back to us Miss Huddleston." Dr. Ferrand said. "And from the looks of things, I would say that you were dearly missed." I smiled up at him. "Thank you, Dr. Ferrand." "Yes, you have done wonders here it would seem." I looked around and noticed everyone had gleeful faces. Everyone but George. He stood next to Margaret MacNeill. Both looked miserable. And I was dancing, something that he could not do. I spied Neil over at the table getting punch, and David was talking to Miss Alice. Neil caught me watching him as he was carrying two glasses of punch. He looked at me and then at George and then back at me again. A look of concern appeared on his face; then he gave me another wink. With the music, Dr. Ferrand twirled me the other way so that I was looking at Jeb and John and not George. "Christy," he said. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am to hear about your incredible loss. You and George have my deepest sympathy and prayer. If you want to talk about it, I would be glad to listen." "Thank you Dr. Ferrand." I said. He had not aged at all since the last time I had seen him. He wore a grey three-piece suit. He must have been hot in it. When the song ended, he bowed and said. "Thank you, Miss Huddleston, for a lovely dance." "Thank you," I said and then turned to see George, but he was not there. Margaret stood drinking punch alone by the wagon. I looked around but did not see George. Where had he gone? Then I saw he and Neil standing by the mission house. Dr. MacNeill had Charlie's reins in his hands. I walked over to them. "Now, George, you are going to have to mount from the right side instead of the left." I heard Neil say as I came closer. "That may take some getting used to. Did you want me to help you, or do you want to try it on your own?" "I can do it." George said in a determined voice. I watched as George put all his weight on his wooden leg while he put his right foot through the stirrup. He grimaced with pain. He held his breath. He gripped Charlie's mane tight in his hands and using his strong arms and his right leg, he managed to swing his left leg over Charlie's back, and then was sitting atop the saddle. His face had turned crimson red, but his eyes glistened like river water. "Oh George, be careful!" I hollered. "You will have to hold tight to keep on, lad." Neil said. But George had always been an expert horseman. He already had Charlie at a trot, and he rode around and around the dance circle. Everyone watched. "Yeeewhooo!" I heard Bird's Eye Taylor shout. He had taken his hat off and held it high in the air. "That boy's a dern fine rider!" He shouted. Everyone nodded agreement. And George rode faster--a full gallop and then a run. I held my breath. Oh please don't let him fall off, I found myself praying. Finally, I could take no more. "George--George stop it--you aren't used to it!" I shouted. He slowed Charlie down; his face was one big smile. Bird's Eye came rushing up to him. They were talking. George had that familiar air of pride and confidence that he used to possess in abundance. I turned to Neil. "Thank you," I said. "For what? I didn't do anything." He said almost shyly. I laughed. "You know what." He smiled happily. "He's good with a horse." "You would think that I would have acquired some of that ability, but it looks as if George got it all." He titled his head back and laughed gaily. I turned and looked for Margaret. She was no longer standing by the wagon. I felt ashamed again. I hated that feeling. Why was I in love with Neil MacNeill? How silly. He was married. He was trying to honor his vows. I was like a schoolgirl with a crush; perhaps he felt nothing for me at all. Maybe I should not have returned to Cutter Gap. The sun grew lower in the sky. It was mid afternoon, and the heat made it hard to breathe. "We better get back to the party," I said. "Aye." He agreed. When we entered the party circle again, I found George and Charlie surrounded by many of the men. They were talking animatedly about horses. "You can always tell a good horse by his teeth and head shape," Bird's Eye said. Miss Alice and Dr. Ferrand were dancing. They were discussing something and looking over toward the pond. I too looked at the pond. There, on the little wooden dock, sat Margaret. I should go talk to her, I thought, but then I wondered if that would only make things worse. Then I remembered the book that I bought for her in Asheville. That would be a good excuse to go over to talk to her. I could give her the book. I went to the wagon and opened my trunk. The book lay on the top with some other presents that I had brought. I got it out and jumped down from the wagon. "Mizz Christy," Little Burl said. "Come dance with me, Mizz Christy!" He took off his cap like a gentleman; he had dirt on his cheeks, and his little brown eyes looked up at me so sweetly. "Oh, I will in just a minute Little Burl. I have to give this to Mrs. MacNeill first." "Okay," he said, looking dejected. "It will only take a minute Little Burl." I knelt beside him and lifted his chin. "I sure missed you, Burl." I said. "You did?" "Yes, very much." His gave me a bear hug, and his smiled returned. "I shore missed you Mizz Christy." Then, he scampered away like a frightened rabbit to the food table. I watched him eat three deviled eggs. The dock creaked as I walked onto it. Margaret turned around to see who had made the sound. "Oh, hi, Miss Huddleston." "You can call me Christy you know." "Okay, Christy." She turned back around and did not look at me. She held a stick in her right hand and pulled it through the water as if she were rowing. I sat down beside her. What was I going to say? I searched for the right words. She did not seem like the same spirited Margaret that I had known before. "It must be nice to have so many people that love you," she said. I felt guilty. "Yes, it is." But I did not know quite what to say next. "Here, I brought you these." I handed her the book and a leather bound journal. "It is a book of Gerard Manley Hopkins poetry and a journal for your own writing." She took them, still without looking at me. She ran her long delicate fingers over the beautiful cover of the journal. It was a rich brown. I had her initials embossed on the front cover. "Here," I said. "This is one of my favorite poems." As she held the book, I flipped through the pages to the poem, "Pied Beauty." We held the book together-- I held the right corner, and she held the left. I read aloud. "Glory be to God for dappled things-- For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; Fesh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings; Landscape plotted and pieced--fold, fallow and plough; And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim. All things counter, original, spare, strange; Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?) With swift, slow; sweet, sour, adazzle, dim; He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: Praise him." She touched my hand, which still held the book, and smiled at me. "Thank you." She said. In the distance, I could hear Aunt Hattie singing, "Down in the Valley." ###################################################################### Part XVIII After much dancing, eating, and stories, the party ended just before sun set. David and Jeb carried our trunks up the stairs. Miss Alice and Ruby Mae had prepared Ida's old room for George. "Christy, these mountains are even more beautiful than you described." George said as he crutched his way up the steps to the mission house. George and I retired to our rooms to unpack. As soon as I walked into my old room I smiled. Oh, I had missed it. It seemed like so long since I had been there. It smelled the same--a mixture of stale wood and furniture polish. The rickety old bed and my window had not changed. I opened the shutters to let the evening light in the room. My things still sat in the same places that I had left them two and a half months ago. My lesson book lay opened to Thursday, May 22, the day I received the telegram. The last time that I had looked at the planner was that morning. I had thought it was going to be a normal day, but that Thursday, my life changed forever. I was no longer the same person. My room grew darker as the deep blue night came to Cutter Gap. I lit my lantern and some candles, which gave everything that lovely warm glow. "Christy?" George said, poking his head through my doorway. "Oh hi, George. Is your room okay?" "Oh yes it's fine." He said. He came inside my room. "So this is where you wrote me all those letters, huh?" He looked around at all my things. Then he turned back to me. "I just wanted to say, thank you for bringing me here, Christy. It has been a long time since I have been as happy as I was at the party today." "Me too Georgie." "It felt good." He paused reflectively. "The people here are really great, Christy. Bird's Eye Taylor is taking me for shooting lessons tomorrow." "Really? Bird's Eye?" This astonished me. Bird's Eye Taylor was going to teach George to shoot. "Yes. He said that a boy my age should have already learned, so he said that it was his duty to learn me. I think that is how he put it." 'Well, you be careful George. Bird's Eye is a strange fellow--a moonshiner. We also think that he and his son, Lundy, burned the school down last year. You remember? I wrote you about it. I am not sure that I like the idea of your going shooting with him." "Christy, I am not a baby!" George said. "Besides, I don't think he would do anything to me. He seemed very nice." "Well, you be careful just the same." "I will," he said with his winsome smile. Then he flinched with pain. "What is it?" I said. I closed the distance between us and put my hand on his shoulder. "Oh, It's nothing. My leg just hurts sometimes. Sometimes it feels like it is still there, swollen and throbbing. It's weird." "Maybe Dr. MacNeill should look at it?" I said. "No, that's okay, all the doctors in Asheville said that it was normal." George yawned deeply and leaned on his crutches. "I think I am going to go to bed, Sis. I'm beat." "Okay Georgie. Are you sure that you are feeling well?" "Yes, don't be such a worry wart. I am fine. Wipe that look off your face, will ya." He kissed my cheek and then half walked and half crutched out of the room. He was getting better with his wooden leg. I smiled as he left, remembering his riding Charlie. I would have to talk to David about getting George a horse as soon as possible. "Good night, George." I called after him. "Night." He said from the hallway. I began unpacking when Miss Alice knocked on the door. She stood in the hallway holding a tray with a teapot and cups. "Christy, would thee care to take some tea with me?" "Oh yes." I said and opened the door wider for her to come in with the tray. She set it on my desk, and then poured the steaming tea into cups. "Sugar?" She asked, and I nodded. She put two spoonfuls of sugar in my cup and stirred it. After she handed me the cup, she sat on my bed. I sat beside her, sipping the hot tea. "I missed you so much, Miss Alice." I said. "I missed thee, Christy. I have been worried about thee. I have prayed for thee every night." "Thank you, Miss Alice." I said. "I have so wanted to talk to you. There were so many nights that lay in bed just trying to imagine what you would say to me." "What did thee imagine that I would say?" She asked, supressing a smile by touching her finger to her lips. "You said, 'God is with thee, Chirsty.'" "That is exactly what I would have said. And He is with thee. Even though sometimes it may not seem like it." "I am ashamed to say that for a long time, I thought that He was not. I felt so abandoned." "I know, Chirsty. I could see it in thine eyes the day your father passed away. I could see it there when David and I left thee at the train station." She held me with her eyes. I twisted the quilt between my fingers. Miss Alice looked beautiful. The soft lantern light illuminated her kind face, giving her skin intricate, earth tones. She wore her dark hair in one long braid that lay across her shoulder. She touched my cheek tenderly. "I felt the same way when my father passed away and when I thought Margaret had died." She paused. "But God is with thee. He never left, and he does care. Sometimes, like Job, he tests us, but He still cares. He never stops caring, Christy." "I think I know that now," I said and took her hand. "I saw Him behind George's smile today, and I can feel Him now with the touch of your hand. Thank God He sent you to me, Miss Alice." She smiled with a slight tint of pink on her cheeks. She did not even try to suppress her contagious grin; then her expression turned serious. "Okay, I need one more thing from thee, before I retire to bed." My expression matched her. "What?" I said with worry. "I need a hug." She said and giggled. I laughed out loud and then hugged her tight--the kind of hug that I used to give my own mother before I went to sleep at night. "Sleep well, Christy." She said. She stood and collected the cups and placed them on the tray with the teapot. As she walked to the door, I called out to her. "Miss Alice? How are you and Margaret?" She turned to me; I could tell that she made an effort to look cheerful, but her efforts failed her. "Nothing has changed. But that is a conversation for another night. Tonight, thee needs some rest. Thee has had a long day." And with that she left my room closing the door behind her. After I had unpacked, I blew out the candles, turned down the lantern and started to climb into bed, but I heard Ruby Mae's melodious laughter outside. I had almost forgotten about her. I went to the window and looked out. I saw her there in front of the mission house. A boy stood with her, his back was to my window. It had to be Rob Allen. No wonder she had not besieged me with ceaseless questions and chatter; she was with Rob. I put my robe on and walked down the dark stairs. Once at the door, I peeked my head outside. "Rub Mae, it's getting late. You should come inside." I said. "Yes, Miss Christy." She said and scooted up the steps and inside looking back longingly at Rob Allen. Once she was inside, I turned to Rob. "And Rob, won't your parents be wondering about you?" "I told them that I might be late coming home." He said. "I am glad that you are back, Miss Christy." "Thank you, Rob. I am glad to be back." I looked to David's bunkhouse and then back at Rob. "Do you want someone to walk home with you, Rob? I see that David's lights are still on." "No, I'm all right, Miss Christy. Good night, and Good night Ruby Mae," he called over me. "Goodnight, Rob Allen," Ruby Mae called back. Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness. Inside, I found Ruby Mae with her back to the wall with a queer smile on her face. "Oh, isn't he the most wonderful boy you ever did see, Miss Christy?" "Yes, Ruby Mae, he is a very nice boy." She was hopelessly lovesick. "Now what is all this about your getting married?" I asked her. That was all Ruby Mae needed. She chattered non-stop for two full hours. I had never thought that I would miss her babbling, but for the first time, I took pleasure in every word that escaped her lips. I had missed Ruby Mae. She told me of the proposal. Rob Allen had written a poem for her and taken her to the cave and read it to her. In the very cave where Jennie Revel, her great-great grandmother, had hidden the O'Teales. She had told him "yes," but that they had to wait until they were older. She smiled proudly at this, awaiting praise from me. "I told him, if we felt the same way a year from now--then on July 30, the anniversary of the day he asked me, we would get married--just like that. I will be seventeen then, Miss Christy." "Seventeen is still very young, Ruby Mae, but I am so proud of you for being grown up enough to wait. Rob Allen is a lucky boy to have you." "Gee, Miss Christy, that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." She hugged me tight and then rushed up the stairs to bed. "Good night, " she called down. "Good night." I said. When I finally got under the covers of my bed, I could hear the mild mountain silence--crickets chirping and the breeze in the trees. How wonderful it felt to be snug in my own bed at last. *********** I awoke so early that the sun had not yet risen. I wanted to go for a walk before anyone got up. I had ached for so long to enjoy the solace of the river. I had dreamed about it so many times when I was in Asheville, but my dreams always seemed to fade before I had a chance to sink my toes into the cool water. Today was going to be different. It would be the real thing, and I could not wait to enjoy it. I knew just the spot I wanted to go to. A little shallow shoal on Big Spoon Creek. It would be so early that no one would be out to disturb me, and I could enjoy the river in peace. I smiled at my secret and dressed in the darkness of my little room. I managed to sneak down the stairs and out the door without waking anyone. Once outside, the warm summer air met me. I could smell the dew on honeysuckles. The sun had still not risen, but light subtly broke over the mountains. Everything was wrapped in sterling silver. I hurried my pace, for I so wanted to watch the sun rise over the river. It seemed as if God held the sunrise in his hands, waiting for me to reach the river, for as soon as I had pulled off my stockings and shoes, stepped shin deep into the cool water, and stood with the slick moss between my toes, the sun peeked over the smoke blue mountain tops. Never before had I seen anything so glorious. Inspiration overtook me, and I sang: "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost But now, I am found Was blind, but now I see." As I continued to sing, I began to slide my feet across the slippery limestone rocks, using my arms to maintain balance. It was so much more slippery than I remembered. The moss had multiplied in the warmer climate. Each rock had slick moss on it. I could scarcely keep my balance. I had slipped knee deep into the river now; my feet steadied between two rocks, and I laughed at my own awkwardness. I did not care that the skirt of my dress dipped into the river. I started over, singing from the beginning and singing louder. "AMAZING GRACE HOW SWEET THE SOUND!" Everything had turned coral and bright. "THAT SAVED A WRETCH LIKE ME!" "Christy!" A voice called "Chrsity, what in the blue blazes are you doing?" I looked up and saw Neil MacNeill standing on the riverbank where I had taken off my shoes. Embarrassment painted me red; I could feel the heat of it on my cheeks. I had been singing at the top of my lungs, and I must admit that I am not that great of a singer. I knew that I must look ridiculous standing bare foot in the middle of the river. Golden sunshine enveloped him. He wore his fishing boots and held his fly rod in his hand. I could barely look at him; I was so mortified. I thought about sliding quickly across the river and hiding in the trees, but that would only make things worse. I felt like I was ten years old. While teetering back in forth trying to decide whether to run for it or stand my ground, I lost my balance and my feet slipped right out from under me. I fell with a big splash into the river, and before I knew what had happened, I sat upon the limestone river bottom with the water rushing past my waist. I was stunned; the cold water took my breath away. I could hardly breathe. I just sat there looking up river, trying to take in what had happened. Dr. MacNeill stood over me. "Chrsity are you okay?" "Christy?" Oh how could I face him? I could not look at him. If I looked at him, I knew that I would just die. What must he think of me? "Christy?" He squatted down in front of me. His face was directly in front of me. He too was immersed in river water. Finally, I looked at him. His expression was one of concern. Then I could not help myself. I just laughed. I laughed so hard that my sides hurt. I could not breathe. I let myself sink deeper in the water until I was all the way under--my only escape from the scene. My laughter left me as tiny bubbles that floated down stream. Neil pulled me up from the water back into a seated position. I was soaked. The water trickled down my face. I could see the little, sky blue droplets on my lashes. Neil was laughing too. "What in the world are you doing?" He asked between chuckles. "Oh," I said catching my breath and running my hands over my face to clear my eyes. "Nothing much. How about you?" He sat down in the river beside me, still laughing. "I only wish that I could see that one more time." He said. "I am so glad that you found it amusing." I was still very embarrassed. "Guess there are no fish left now, huh?" I asked. "Probably not." He said snickering softly. "Seriously, you aren't hurt are you?" "I don't think so." I said. I pulled my hands out of the water to inspect them. "What are you doing out here so early?" "The best fishing is at sun-up." He said. "But I do not think that I could possibly fish now, I do not have the concentration for it now." He laughed again, loudly, as if he had just seen the whole thing again. I smiled. The sun had changed from a coral-orange to a deep yellow. The white water that moved over the shoal rushed over us, inching us slightly down stream. "Shall we go wading?" He stood up and offered me his hand. "That would be nice," I said. I took his hand and stood up. My dress was heavy with water. We waded carefully over the slippery rocks and down the stream, enjoying the river. When we came to the end of the shoal where the deeper, dark green water began, we walked over and sat upon the bank. "What are you doing out here so early?" He asked. "I had missed the river so much. I just wanted to get out and enjoy it." He nodded with understanding, and began skipping rocks across the smooth surface of the deeper water. "I find peace on the river too." He said. We said nothing for a long time. Both of us just sat, quietly, watching the water and listening to birds. I heard a cardinal singing above us. "I remember the first moment I saw you." He said. "You were kneeling over Bob Allen holding a white lace handkerchief to his bleeding head." His eyes were distant, not really looking at the river. 'Then you fainted when I asked you to help with the surgery." He grinned at me. "You will never let me live that down will you?" I asked. "Probably not. " He said with a handsome smile. "Do you have any idea what I had been through that day?" I asked in an effort to defend myself. He shook his head, so I decided to explain. "I had left my family, friends, and the only home I had ever known behind. When I got to the train station in El Pano, it was pouring down rain. No one had come to meet me. I had no idea how to get to Cutter Gap. Somehow, I found Ben Pentland. He agreed to let me walk with him to Cutter Gap. We walked through the cold, October rain up these mountains. I can still remember how cold it was and how steep the mountains were." I shivered remembering that terrible day. "I was so cold. When it finally stopped raining, we were at the edge of the cove. Ben delivered the mail as we walked. He had six letters that day. Just before you arrived, I had slipped and fallen down the side of the mountain. I landed in the mud. I did not even have time to recover because the Spencer's dogs were right on top of me. Then, they drug Bob Allen up, and then, you arrived. I was still stunned from my fall even then. And you wanted me to watch as you drilled a hole into Bob Allen's skull? It was just too much, Doctor." I turned my gaze from the river to Neil. He looked at me as if I still might bare the injuries from my tumble down the mountains. His reddish hair lay in an unruly mess about his face. His eyes were intense. "I'm sorry, I had no idea." He said. We sat there for a long time without talking, just letting the warm sun dry our clothes. It was so beautiful on the river. It was beautiful sitting so near him, but then I remembered myself. My stomach knotted as I thought about Margaret. I stood up quickly. Neil stood too. "What is it?" He asked. "I have to go." "Not yet, Christy." He said. He touched my cheek with his fingertips. His blue eyes swept over my face. The lines about his eyes deepened. He looked as sad as I felt. "We are like a dream, you and I." I said without taking my eyes off of his handsome face. "A beautiful dream that lives in moonlight dances, in music, and in golden sunrises, but dreams have to end when morning comes." I felt the tears in my eyes. I instinctively kissed his cheek. He had tears in his eyes too. I could not believe what I had just said, but I knew that it was the right thing; it had to be goodbye. I looked at him deeply, one last time, and then turned and walked up stream to gather my stockings and shoes, leaving him standing alone on the river bank. ###################################################################### Part XIX I again resolved to keep my distance from Neil and Margaret, hoping that maybe they could repair their lives somehow. A week past since our chance meeting on the river, and I had busied myself with lesson plans and preparations for the new year. I only had a month before school started, and I had to work furiously to be ready. The children came by often to see me. Sam Houston brought me flowers almost every day. Creed Allen would bring a toad or a June bug or something to make me scream, and Mountie came with her arms full of cornhusk dolls and ask me to play with her. In just that one week, George had become the darling of the cove. It was a wonder to me. The mountain people had accepted him as one of their own. Everyone asked him to do things. David took him to Lufty Branch that first Sunday. Dan Scott wanted to teach him how to carve. Bird's Eye took him shooting every other day. He also spent time with Jeb and John Spencer, Ault and Bob Allen and the Allen boys. He went fishing with them, did odd things at the mill, and learned about bee keeping. He was constantly busy, and I scarcely saw him. One evening, he arrived home early. "George," I said to him "You know that the Allens and the Taylors are in a feud." We sat on the dock and looked out over the water, which reflected the vibrant sky. "What do they think about your spending time with their enemy?" "No one has really mentioned it," he said and took a bite of his apple. George had always had charisma--the same charisma that father had had. His casual way and smile appealed to everyone. I smiled when I thought of how proud Father would have been of him. George had indeed fallen off a huge horse when he lost his leg, but in Cutter Gap, he had bounded right back upon its back for another ride. His walk improved steadily, and he rode Prince all over the cove. Dr. MacNeill came to the mission every morning to work with George. I took walks with Fairlight in the mornings and conveniently left just before Neil arrived. I just could not face him. The thought of his hair, the smoke of his pipe, his boots, and his blue eyes made my stomach feel empty. I tried putting him out of my mind completely, but inevitably, at night, before I fell asleep, I found myself pulling out the handwritten lyrics to "Down in the Valley," which I kept folded tightly in my oval locket, and reading them softly to myself. At the end of our first week in the cove, I received a letter from Uncle John. The mid-afternoon heat had become so stifling that I had retreated to the front porch to read. I had only read one chapter when I heard Ben Pentland holler in his familiar way. "United States mail!" I put my book down and stood up from the rocking chair. "This is certified United States mail, Miss Christy. I'm a gunna need you to sign this here." He said. I signed and took the letter. In the envelope, I found a statement and a large sum of money. It seems that George and I had earned a considerable amount of interest on the money that Father and Mother had left us. John had sent the interest money on to me with a letter stating that all was well in Asheville, and he wished to hear form us as soon as possible. As I held the money in my hand, my heart skipped. An idea came to me as if God Himself had handed it to me personally. "Miss Alice," I yelled out and raced down the mission steps. "Miss Alice!" "Thee does not need to yell, Christy, I am right here." I found her around the side of the house, standing beside Dr. Ferrand on a latter. Dr. Ferrand wore his suit trousers, his long-sleeved, starched white shirt and a tie. He had to be hot. They were cleaning out the gutters. "What is it?" She asked. I wanted to talk to her without Dr. Ferrand listening, but I did not see how I could manage to get her aside. Miss Alice must have detected my hesitation because she turned to Dr. Ferrand and said, "Jacob, I will be right back." He nodded, and we walked back to the front of the house. She asked again, "What is it, Christy?" "I just had an idea, Miss Alice. Uncle John just sent me a huge amount of money. It is the interest we have earned over the last two months. We will be getting it every month from now on. I just thought that since George and I can live fine on my salary, we could use this money for the cove people." "Christy, thee knows better than anyone that these people will not accept charity." She smiled sadly. "I know Miss Alice, but I thought that we could hire them. We could hire them to fix the mission house so that Dr. Ferrand does not have to, or to build a better road to El Pano, or fix the schoolhouse. Anything, it could be anything, Miss Alice. They would work, and we could pay." I held the money out to her so that she could see that I was serious. "Miss Huddleston that is a very generous offer, but thee can not give thy money away like that." "Why not?" I asked. "What about George's college and…" "We have that set aside already. Oh Miss Alice, don't you see, Opal and Tom can afford to buy Toot meat and vegetables to keep his anemia away. No one would have to sell land. Everyone would have enough food to make it through the winter--maybe buy shoes and coats." Miss Alice took my face in her hands, "Why Christy Huddleston, it just might work. Thee is a wonder." I would have paid every dime that I had just to see her expression again. It made me feel warm and tingly. It was the same expression she had given me when Mountie O'Teal sat on my lap and said her first words. Miss Alice hugged me. "I still think that thee should think about this some more, and perhaps we should talk to Jacob." I nodded agreement. "We can talk about it tonight at dinner." I said. "Talk about what?" David asked. He had come from his bunkhouse and now stood watching us intensely. He cocked his eyebrow in that way of his. "You will have to wait till dinner, David. It's a surprise and--." I stopped short when I heard the sound of approaching horses. I turned to find George riding a huge, dark grey horse--he led Prince behind him. His crutch, which was tied to the saddle, hung down by the grey's right front leg. The horse was beautiful. It had a black mane and tail and a few lighter grey freckles on its neck. "George, where on earth did you get that horse." I asked. George pulled the horse to a halt right in front of us. He had a grin perched neatly across his mud covered face. "I won him in a horse race." He said as he untied his crutch. He looked like one of the mountain children, his clothes were wrinkled, ripped, and soiled. His grubby hands clutched the reins. I was taken aback. "A horse race? Why George Prescott Huddleston--I am appalled. A horse race?" I had my hands placed firmly on my hips. I felt like Mother standing there. "That is what I said, a horse race. Bird's Eye set up a horse race, and I won." "Well, you are just going to have to take him back." I said. "I will not have my own brother gambling." "Ah, Christy. There is nothing wrong with it, and I won him fair enough." I grew even more livid by the minute. I yanked him off of the horse with more strength than I knew that I had and held him by the shirt collar. I knew that mother would have had a fit if she knew that I did not reprimand him for gambling. She had always been so against it. "George, I want you to go up to your room this instant." He looked gloomy. His eyes were downcast. Then he looked up at me and said. "Here I am, finally happy, making do with what I have, doing something that makes me happy, competing again--like I did in baseball, and all you want to do is take it away from me." His words hurt. I watched him hobble away on his wooden leg with the crutch tucked under his arm. He went into the mission house and closed the door behind him. My heart sank. David and Miss Alice just stared me. I wondered if I had done the right thing. ************** That evening, George did not come down for supper; I was too depressed to discuss my idea with Dr. Ferrand and David. I just sat raking my fork through the heap of mashed potatoes on my plate. "Christy, can I get you some more to drink?" David asked in a very pleasing tone. I knew he was trying to cheer me up. "No thank you, " I said. "Christy, thee did the right thing," Miss Alice finally said. "If thy mother was against gambling then thee must uphold her standards for George." "Absolutely," said Dr. Ferrand. He cleared his throat and then continued. "Your mother would be very proud of you, Miss Huddleston." He wiped his mouth with the corners of his napkin and smiled at me. 'Thank you," I said half heartily. But I still did not feel better. Poor George. Riding horses was something he was good at, and he had always been a competitive boy. Other sports were unavailable to him now; why should I take horse racing away too? He had been in steeplechases before. Mother had not disapproved of that. After supper, I took a plate upstairs and knocked on his door. There was no answer, so I pushed the door open. "George?" As the door opened, I saw him. He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed. "I brought you some supper." I said "I don't want any!" "George," I set his plate down on his nightstand and then sat down on the bed beside him. "I am sorry about this afternoon. I just know that Mother would not have- "Yes, Christy, but Mother is not here." "I know Georgie, but I have to uphold her wishes, can't you understand that?" "Mother did not know what it was like to have only one leg, to lose everything that was important. If she had lost everything that she was good at, maybe she would have felt differently." His eyes brimmed with tears; they spilled over and sprinkled his cheeks. "Oh, Georgie, I'm so sorry. You are right; no one here can possibly understand how you feel. But I do know that I am proud of you. You have never let it stop you. You are a strong boy, George. The strongest I know. Actually, you're not a boy at all anymore, are you? No, I think you are a man now." He sat up and hugged me. With his face in my hair, he sobbed saying. "I miss Mama and Daddy, Christy, I miss them so much!" "I know Georgie. I do too," I smoothed my hands over his back and rocked him gently. "Me too." We cried together in his little room---cried until it was well past dark. "How about this, George, " I said after we had regained our composure. "How about I pay for the horse." "No, Christy, that would only embarrass me." I thought for a minute. His pride was as thick as the mountain people's; no wonder he fit in so well. "Okay, if I let you keep the horse will you promise never to gamble again?" "But Christy, horse racing is all I have---" "I said gamble, George, I did not say race. Lord help me, I suppose that you can race as long as you do not gamble and as long as you are careful. Mother never mentioned racing really, just gambling." He smiled. Red, raised dots splotched his face where his tears had dried. "It's a deal." We shook hands. I still was not sure that I had done the right thing, but somehow I felt better. "What's the horse's name?" I asked. "Moonshine." George said with a coy smile. I rolled my eyes, and he cut in with, "Oh, I forgot to tell you that Dr. MacNeill asked about you yesterday." George was a clever boy, and his interruption made me smile. "He did? Are you sure that you're not just trying to change the subject?" "No, he really did, he mentioned that he had not seen you and hoped that you were not angry with him." "Well, you tell him for me, that I am not angry with him. Tell him that I have just been busy, okay George." I tucked the covers around him. "I will, but I think he would rather hear it from you." I kissed him on the forehead. "Are you going to eat this?" I asked picking up the plate that I had brought. He shook his head. "No, I'm not hungry." "Okay, George, but before you go to sleep, you should wash up. Mama would have called you a raga-muffin." I smiled and took the plate down stairs. On my way back up the stairs, I thought I heard Miss Alice crying. I walked down the hall and stood at her door for a long time, wondering if I should knock. Before I could make up my mind, she had stopped crying. She must have fallen asleep. I reproached myself for not knocking when I had the chance. As I snuggled into my own bed, I said a prayer. "Please God, help reconcile Miss Alice and Margaret. They need each other so much." Then I blew out my candle and went to sleep. ************ Fairlight could not walk with me that next morning. She and Jeb were busy with jarring honey, and so I went alone. I packed my lesson planner, some books, and a lunch in my satchel, and set out before Neil arrived. I thought that it would be a nice change to work in the woods instead of my room or the schoolhouse. I walked deep into the Pinnacle Mountains, higher and higher--passed the Holcombe cabin. I wanted to find a new place--a place far away, so that there would be nothing but the birds to distract me. I was in an exploring mood and the cooler morning air inspired me forward. I hiked for at least two hours into the woods. I really had no idea where I was going, but I found a large silver leaf maple and decided that it was the place. I sat beneath it and began to pull my books out of my satchel. Sunlight permeated through the trees tops and dappled the ground with patches of bright yellow light. Before I started to work, I took in the scenery--the rust colored leaves and the rounded and moss covered rocks. I loved these mountains. I had been working on the general, all-year schedule for school, penciling in proposed lessons and marking down tentative dates for events and open houses. I worked for several hours, pouring over the calendar, scratching out and rewriting dates, comparing it to last year's calendar, and reviewing the notebook of suggestions and comments that I had kept the previous year. I had the whole root system of that maple tree covered with books and papers. I used rocks and sticks as paperweights. The air seemed so much cooler on the mountain than down at the mission. After several hours, I took a break and stretched out on the ground amongst my books. I closed my eyes and listened to the birds sing. I heard a robin, a dove, and a blue jay--I prided myself on being able to recognize the different birds. I lay almost dozing when, suddenly, I thought that I heard someone scream. I opened my eyes and sat up on my elbows. I listened for it again. After a minute I could hear voices speaking loudly. I jumped to my feet and walked in the direction that the voices came from. On the slope, just below me, I saw a large man. He held a woman against a tree. He clutched her hair in his right hand and pressed her face against the bark. I crept closer and recognized that the woman was Margaret MacNeill. "You will pay me!" He said. "I do not care how or where you get the money, but you will pay me!" With his left hand he held her arm behind her back and he pushed it hard past its normal range of motion; she moaned with pain. My heart beat fast with fear, anger, and adrenaline. Without thinking, I sprinted down the slope. I used my velocity to tug him, by his shirt, away from her. "Let her go!" I yelled. He wrenched me off of his back and flung me hard. I fell tumbling down the steep slope. I stopped hard with my side hitting the base of a tree. The tree knocked the wind out of me, and the pain and lack of oxygen caused me to lie gasping on the ground. "Christy! Christy!" Margaret had run down the slope after me and knelt beside me. She pulled me into her arms. "Breathe, just breathe." She said. When I regained my breath, I looked up at her. She had a black, swollen eye, her bottom lip bled from the corners, and her cheeks had marks on them where the bark had rubbed the skin away. The large man stood over us. Who was he? I looked up into his grey eyes and saw nothing but hate. Suddenly, something happened to me. I had no fear; instead, I felt nothing but rage. All the anger that I had kept bottled up over my parent's death and the loss of my brother's leg burst out of me like molten rock. I stood and stepped up to him. "How dare you! Who are you?" I said with so much anger that I could barely speak. "Christy don't!" I heard Margaret say behind me. But, I saw his eyes twinkle with surprise, and then he laughed. "Oh, I like this one, Margaret." "What's you name?" He asked me. "Christy Huddleston." I said and forced my chin out with confidence. I straightened my twisted linen blouse and stood straight. I paid no attention to my aching side. He touched his fingers to my cheek in an intimate manner that made me cringe. He smiled. I pushed his hand away, and he drew a knife from his boot. My anger deserted me; it left me standing there alone, afraid, and starring at his steel grey eyes. ###################################################################### Part XX The man stood not much taller than David, but unlike David, he had a burly and broad build. His large nose took up much of his face. He had dark hair and a dark, whiskered chin. He directed the knifepoint at me. The sun reflected off it like a mirror. "Paul, please, don't!" Margaret said. She squeezed in front of me. "She has nothing to do with this, leave her out of it." She held her arms out and slightly behind her, shielding me from him. Her coffee-colored curls were just in front of me, and I could smell her perfume. It was the familiar scent of lavender, the perfume that I had given to her for her birthday. The scent reminded me of mother. "Well, Christy Huddleston," he said, ignoring Margaret completely. "Your friend here owes me $466.63. She was supposed to pay it back five months ago. She left Atlanta, thinking that she could get away with out paying. I am here to inform her that she can not. If I have to kill someone to collect it, I will." "I'm going to pay it back, Paul. I just need some more time." "Time is up, Margaret." He inspected his knife blade as he spoke. "But I don't have the money. I--" "You should have thought about that before you borrowed it." He said. "But I was sick, I had --" "Wait," I said. "I have $200, back at the mission. I could get you the rest, but I would have to get my Uncle to wire the money." Margaret turned around; her green eyes arched with insistence. "No Christy, I can not ask you to do that, you--" She did not finish her sentence, for Paul had grabbed her from behind and pressed the knife to her throat. Her breath came in gulps. "Christy, you listen good." He said in an angry tone. He did not look at me; he seemed engrossed with the knife blade that lay against Margaret's skin. "You go get the $200.00. If you don't show back here by the time the sun sets, your friend dies--it is as simple as that." His large nostrils flared. Then, he looked straight at me--his eyes piercing right to my soul. "And if you try to bring someone with you--I'll kill her for sure--with or without the money." He continued to hold the knife to her neck. I could see that the blade had already caused tiny bleeding scratches. "From this height, I can see everything coming--you can not sneak any one up here." "I am not leaving Margaret here alone." I said. "Well, then you both die." "No, Christy, go." Margaret said. Paul pressed the knife harder, forcing her chin high in the air, she turned only her eyes to me; they were contorted and sad and, somehow, familiar. "How do I know that you won't hurt her anyway." The man, Paul, threw Margaret hard to the ground. He stepped forward and grabbed my right hand. Before I knew what had happened, he had sliced diagonally across my palm from my wrist to my index finger. It happened so fast that it took several seconds before I felt the stinging pain. He slit his own hand, much less dramatically, but also across the palm; then, he shook my hand. "Blood vow!" He said. He laughed in a way that made me think better of saying anything more to him. The shock of what had just happened stunned me, but I knew I had no time to ponder. "I'll be back Margaret." I said looking directly into her eyes. Then I turned and ran down the hill as fast as I could. My hand throbbed and bled fast. When I was out of their sight, I stopped to rip some of my petticoat and tied the cloth around the wound to stop the bleeding. My skin crawled when I thought of Margaret alone with that man. I ran down and around steep inclines. I tripped so many times, only to get up and lunge forward again. The trees were unfamiliar. I had never been in this part of the Pinnacles. Was I going the right direction? The sun had long ago passed the high point--I figured that it must be around 3 o'clock. I had to hurry to get to the mission and back before sunset. I ran harder--so hard that I could scarcely breathe, and each breath that I drew hurt my side. "God, if you are listening, I need you now. I need you! Help me, help me, please." I said this only in my mind because I had no breath left to speak. What if I can't find my way back? This thought made me sick; I looked behind me and hoped that Margaret was safe. Then I began breaking small trees in half to mark a trail. Finally, I saw a familiar sight--the cemetery on Persimmon Hill. I had no idea how long I had run, but I was covered in perspiration, weeds, and burrs. I ran up Cutter Branch and finally stopped just behind David's bunkhouse. I had to be careful now. If someone saw me looking suspicious, then they would ask questions. Questions that I could not answer. I did not feel that the man was jesting when he said that he would kill Margaret. I could see it in his eyes. And one look at my hand was all the evidence I needed. I sat for only a minute to catch my breath and pick the burs out of my hair. I saw no one around. I wondered if they were inside. What would I say? Suddenly, I saw Miss Alice and Dr. Ferrand by the pond. That would only leave George, David and Ruby Mae for me to deal with. And more than likely, George was not home and Ruby Mae was with Rob. I took one last deep breath and started for the mission house. I could not believe my luck. No one was inside. I bounded up the stairs and into my room. The money was in my trunk in the tin where I had left it. I put it in a draw sting bag and then into another satchel so that I would be sure not to drop it. I left the room and shot down the stairs. When I opened the front door, I found Neil standing there in front of me with his hand out as if he were going to knock. "Christy, I was--" His voice began in its natural tone but then changed completely when he looked at me. "What happened?" "Oh nothing." I looked down at my linen shirt and skirt, which were torn in places and muddy. There was some blood on my skirt; I turned slightly and drew my hand behind my back. "I just got back from a walk, and I just remembered that I forgot some of my books. I have to go back and get them." I tried to sound as light-hearted as possible, yet even I could hear the anxiety in my voice. "Are you all right?" He pulled a leaf out of my hair. "Oh, I'm fine; I assure you." "You do not look fine." He inspected me with his eyes. "Did you fall?" "Yes, you know me--I've been so clumsy lately." I faked a laugh, but he was not amused. "I really have to go, Doctor. I have to get my books before it gets too late. I won't be able to find my way home in the dark." "I can ride you out to get them." He said. "Oh no, that's not necessary." My heart did leaps. How was I going to get out of this? He looked at me with his brows pressed together in puzzlement. "Thank you so much, Dr MacNeill." Then I brushed past him and started to leave, but he caught my arm and pulled me back. "Not so fast." He said. Then he noticed my hand. "Christy, your hurt!" I hesitated. "It's nothing--" I managed to say. "Why did you not tell me you were hurt?" "I-I-" "Never mind," he said. He put his strong arm around me and ushered me inside. My legs were weak from the running that I had done, and I knew I shook under his arm. He made me sit down on the davenport. I flinched from the movement because it hurt my side, but thankfully, Neil did not seem to notice. He sat on the coffee table in front of me and unwrapped my makeshift bandage, gently. "Do you want to avoid me so much, Christy, that you won't even tell me that you're hurt." His voice trailed off in despair. He sighed heavily. "No, that's not it, Neil." His words pained me worse than my hand. "I just, well I--" When the air met my wound, I held my breath. My hand rested in his. With his free hand, he gingerly peeled my fingers back so that he could get a better look. "The wound is deep. It could use some stitches." He went to the mission's medicine cabinet and got the dark brown bottle of iodine. All I could think about was Margaret. How was I going to make it in time? As if to emphasize this thought, the clock above the mantle chimed 6:00. It was so much later than I had thought. The sun would set in two hours. "Christy?" Neil said. I looked at him. His worried eyes searched me for something. "Did you hit your head? You are acting very strange." "Oh, no. I'm fine." He continued to study me. For the first time, I hoped that he could not read my thoughts. I felt drained, and all at once, I wanted to tell him what had happened. I wanted so much to ask him for help, but I knew that he would insist on going, or at least, not let me return and then what would happen to Margaret. No, I could not tell him. "Tell me!" He said in a thicker brogue than normal. "What is it? You can tell me, what ever it is." Once again he had read my mind. "Neil," I touched his face. "It's nothing." He looked lost in thought; and then, he turned his attention back to my hand. "What I can not figure out is, this looks like a knife wound." All the blood drained from my head when he said this. He poured the iodine over my hand. The sting made me feel sick. I gripped my wrist tight with my left hand, trying to ease the pain. He looked at me. "It will stop stinging in a minute, lass." He said in his comforting way. "I am going out to get my saddle bags. When I come back, I want you to tell me how this happened." He lifted my chin and smiled at me. Then he went out the front door. I knew that this was my chance. I had to go out the back door. But I could not bare to imagine what he would think of me when he came back inside and discovered that I was gone. I wished that I had time to leave a note, but there was no time for that. I grabbed the satchel and a bandage from the mission supply cabinet, dashed out the back door, and plunged deep into the woods. ######################################################################DISCLAIM Part XXI I ran all the way back to Persimmon Cemetery before I stopped to bandage my bleeding hand. I knew that there was a shorter way to get to Margaret, but I felt I would waste time trying to find it. The sun loomed low in the sky. I followed the broken saplings up into the mountains, but it was much harder running up hill. Even with all my effort, I still did not get very far. I had not eaten anything all day. I had skipped breakfast in order to leave before Neil arrived, and the sandwich that I had packed for lunch still remained in my satchel under the silver leaf maple. I had little energy, and my head rushed when I took the time to look up from the ground. Finally, I reached the trail's end. But standing there in the fading light, I had no idea which direction to take next. I fell to my knees, partly from exhaustion and partly from desperation, and prayed. "God, which way do I go?" I stayed kneeling with my eyes closed and waited for something--anything. When I opened my eyes, the purple and coral light of sunset veneered the tree trunks with a rich orange glow. I scanned the landscape, hoping to see something familiar, but in the deeper shadows of evening, everything looked different. I stood feebly and walked among the trees. Then I noticed a large oak and thought that I recognized it; as I stood under it, a tiny object, just ahead and to my left, caught my eye. It was my locket. In my flight down the mountain, I had not even noticed that it had fallen from around my neck. It lay upon the matted brown leaves and marked the direction from which I had come. I snatched it from the ground, kissed it, and put it in my pocket. A fresh wave of energy came over me. I felt that Mother and Father were with me. I started my run again. My dry throat felt as if it would crack. It was getting difficult to see. The sun was completely gone, and the trees were only navy silhouettes against the not fully darkened sky. Where were they? How much farther? The darkness under the trees slowed my speed even more, for I could not see ahead of me. I had no idea where I was going. Then I heard the cock of a gun. "Is that you girl?" A voice called. "Paul? Margaret?" I said. "You barely made it. We were about to give up on you." In the shadows, I saw a flash. Paul had struck a match. It lit only his large hand; I watched him light a lantern; and then, in the ring of light, I saw him. He sat on a rock. His large flat nose and harsh face looked still harsher in the shadows. I did not see Margaret. I searched frantically for her. "Where is Margaret?" "First, the money." He said. "No, first Margaret!" I could not believe that I had said this. I could feel my whole body tremble with fear when he rose to his feet. He tucked the gun in the waist of his pants. Then he picked up the lantern by its wire handle and walked several feet; in the swinging light, I saw Margaret beneath a tree. She lay in a fetal position on the ground. Her hands and feet were bound. I ran to her. "Margaret? Margaret? Are you okay?" I touched her cold cheek. "Christy?" She said with more astonishment than relief. "You came back?" Paul pulled me around so that I faced him. With his hot breath on my face, he shouted, "Give me the money!" He reeked of liquor. I handed him the satchel but did not wait to watch him open it. I turned back to Margaret. I tried to untie her hands, but my own hand was so sore that I had difficulty untangling the thick knots. I loosened them and almost had them undone. "This is only $200.00." He shouted. "She owes me $600.00." I turned to him. "You said that she owed you $466, and I told you that I only had $200 at the mission. We will have to go to the bank at El Pano to get the rest." "What? Do you think I'm stupid?" He yanked me from the ground as if I were weightless and threw me against the tree. The impact dazed me for a moment. Everything went out of focus. He pinned me with his hand on my throat. When my disorientation wore off, I struggled to free myself from his grip. His strength was unimpaired by my efforts. He did not even have to strain to hold me. He lifted the lantern to my face. "My you're a pretty one." He said. His eyes gleamed. I could not swallow or breathe because he held me so tight. "You have those big blue eyes and soft skin." He set the lantern at his feet and then traced his thumb over my lips. "I can think of other ways that you can pay." He said. He leaned forward, his hot, liquored breath wafted in my face. Then he kissed me on the mouth. I bit his bottom lip so hard that I tasted blood. He threw me to the ground. I lay gasping for air but managed to roll out of the lantern's nimbus. He cussed and held his fingers to his bleeding lip. I watched him draw his gun and fire two shots into the darkness. "I'm going to kill you!" He screamed. The lunacy of his voice frightened me so much that it knocked what little air I had, out of me. I could not breathe. I tried pulling the air in, but it was not enough. I tried harder to breathe, heaving and wheezing. I rolled further down the hill and hid behind a rock. "You can't hide. I can hear you breathing!" He said. Then he aimed the cocked gun right at me. I saw a line of black spots; everything was fuzzy. He stood and swayed in the yellow light. He was drunk. He fired again, and this time, I heard the zing of the bullet pass me. "Looky here, Christy." He slurred his words. I opened my eyes. I had not even realized that I had closed them. He held Margaret in his arms. He pressed the gun to her head. "If you don't want your friend to die, you best come into the light." Margaret struggled against him. Her feet were still bound, but her hands were free. I swallowed and regained my painful breath. It took all my courage to stand. I grabbed a rock and then walked to him. When I stood at the edge of the light where he could see me, I said a prayer. He laughed. "Why would you want to do this? What have we done to you?" "Come closer," he said. "I gave you the money, and I will get you the rest tomorrow." "Come here, now!" He cocked the gun and poked the barrel against Margaret's blackened eye. "Run Christy, run!" She cried, terrified. I watched him pull the trigger. The gun snapped, but nothing happened. He was out of bullets. I charged him. Out of sheer terror, I beat him with the rock. Because he was drunk, his balance failed him. He swaggered to the ground holding his head. I drug Margaret out of his reach and hurriedly began trying to untie her feet. My hands fumbled and shook. I could not steady them to untie her. I could hear him scuffling to his feet behind us. Margaret tried to help. My clumsy thumbs could not pry the knots apart. I had no fingernails to use as leverage. It was Margaret that loosened the tangle of rope, and with that; I was able to undo the rest. We scrambled to our feet. I took Margaret's hand, and we ran. I pulled her through the darkness. Once we were out of the lantern light, our eyes adjusted, and the moon lit our way. I could not shake the feeling that he ran just behind us. My thoughts were not clear. I just ran, blindly. I have no idea how long we had run, but my trance ended when I found myself ankle deep in a stream. "Where are we?" Margaret huffed between her wild breathing. "I think this is Tumbling Creek." I said. I stood bent over and holding my knees trying to catch my own breath. I could not walk another step. I listened for him, but I did not hear anything. I felt that if I did not lie down soon that I would fall over. I dipped my good hand in the creek, cupped the chilly water, and brought it to my dry lips. The liquid eased my sore throat. I had not had anything to drink since the morning. "I have to sit down for a minute, Margaret." I said. She nodded. I investigated the creek. I found a small bluff across and up stream from us. We could get under it and hide fairly well. Margaret followed me across the creek to the opposite shore. We lay under the overhanging bluff, upon the cool ground. I did not even mind the rocks that jutted into my back. I must have slept, for I awoke with a start to the sound of Margaret's crying. It was still dark. I was so sore that I could hardly move. Every muscle that I had ached. My head pounded. "Margaret?" I forced myself to stand. I squinted my eyes and found her sitting in the middle of the creek. The moonlight highlighted each ripple of water that washed over her; her skin shone shiny silver. I waded out to her, then stooped over and whispered. "Margaret?" I had my hand on her shoulder. The moonlight glinted off of her tear soaked face. I collected her in my arms and guided her out of the creek. Still standing, I hugged her. She tried to push me away, but finally gave in and sobbed in my arms. I had never seen her cry. She had always held a strong facade of bravery. "I want to die, Christy." She said after a while. "Please let me just die." Her voice fluttered with agony. I let her push away from me. "Margaret?" She did not look at me. Finally she sat down as if exhausted. I knelt in front of her; my knees rested on the hard rocks. I pushed her hair away from her face. After sometime, her eyes met mine. "Why did you come back?" She asked. "Because, I care about you." "Why? Why would you care about me? I have done nothing to deserve it." "Because I see beauty in you. You are a good person, Margaret, despite what you think of yourself." "I'm not a good person. Look at what a mess I have made of things. Look how many people I have hurt and…." She said nothing more. She only starred at the river that rolled by us. Soft blue light seeped all around; the sun was beginning to rise. Then she noticed my hand. "Oh, Christy. I forgot that you were hurt." She ripped the hem of her dress and moved closer to me. Our knees touched. She tenderly unwrapped my muddy bandage. "He cut you good, didn't he?" She said. She wrapped the fresh cloth around my hand. Without taking her eyes from her task, she asked, "Do you love Mac?" I hesitated for a moment, but decided to tell the truth. "Yes, I love him." She brought her eyes to mine, those familiar, pretty eyes and said, "Thank you for your honesty." Then she started to cry again. "I love him too." She buried her face against her fist and tried hard to fight the tears away, but her emotions were too powerful. They swept over her and transformed into a cough, and then her cough consumed her until she could scarcely breathe. Having no idea how to help her, I held her hand. When she had recovered, she squeezed my hand tightly. "You are a true friend, Christy Huddleston. My one and only true friend." She looked at me so affectionately that she touched my very soul. And then, I knew. It was Amelia. Her eyes reminded me of Amelia; they had the same shining sensitivity. It had been so long since I had seen Amelia that I had forgotten. "Ever since I first saw you, your eyes have reminded me of someone." I said to her. "I have never been able to figure out who until just now." She looked at me, intensely waiting for my words. "Margaret, you remind me of my sister, Amelia. I loved her so much." Her expression changed and conveyed her appreciation better than any word could have. We said nothing for a long time. We sat and listened to the creek trickle. Then I broke the silence. "Why did you leave Cutter Gap?" She frowned and looked away from me. "I suppose I owe you the truth." She pulled her legs into her arms and rested her chin atop her knee. "I have never told anyone before. I have never even verbalized it, not even to myself." She took a deep breath. "I have nothing to give you for your kindness, nothing but my trust. I have never given that to anyone. But you, you are different. For some reason I trust you." I smiled at her compliment but remained silent, watching the dawn all around her. "When I was sixteen years old, there was an elder in our Quaker circle that took me under his wing. His name was Jack." She trembled when she said his name. "Grandfather had died the year before. I missed Grandpa so much. I am sure that mother has told you about him. He was one of the kindness men." She smiled. "I found something that I needed in Jack. He tutored me in Latin after school. He came by everyday for my lesson. He would also talk to me and listen to me. He offered strength and understanding to me, or so I thought. But one day," Margaret choked on her words and started to cry. She covered her mouth with her hand. Finally she cleared her throat and continued with a wavering voice. "One day, when we were alone, he, well he," she fought to speak the words. "He violated me in the worst way that a girl can be violated, Christy." She wrung her hands. "It would have been better if he had just killed me. I wish every day that he had." She paused to breathe, pressing her fingers to her temple as if to ease the pain of a headache. "It's worse than being killed, Christy. That is just it. While it happens to you, you fight like mad to live, but what you don't know is that the only life left to you after is no life at all. It is a walking death. A life without joy or love." A shudder slide down my back as I remembered Paul's face and humid breath, his hand clutching my throat, the feel of the tree against my back, and his wet kiss. I leaned forward and hugged her. "But there's more." She said and pushed me away. "So much more. He said that if I told anyone, he would say that I had bewitched him and made him do it. He said it was all my fault." She wiped her running nose with the back of her wrist. "He called me terrible things. He said that Mother and I were just alike. She and I were whores, and if I didn't believe him that I should ask her myself. I did ask mother about my birth. She told me everything." She paused again. "It seems that we are cursed, mother and I. I knew no one would believe me. Jack was a very respected man among them. I could not tell mother. What would it have done to her? I could not tell anyone. How could I?" She looked at me as if I would argue with her, but I only sat and watched her quivering chin. "I could not bear to see that man. He with his 'these and those.' Those words send chills all over me. I became hard and hateful, I know I did. And I know mother did not understand me. She called me wild, spoiled and selfish--and I let her." Margaret laughed as if this were a joke. "So I ran away." She sat quietly for a moment. Then continued. "That's when I met Mac." She smiled. "He was an intern. He made me laugh, and he liked my rough edges. He did not shy away from me, as most men did. He faced me with as much stubbornness as I had. Yet he was gentle too. I was always sort of a mystery to him--a puzzle he could not solve. He never knew what I was thinking. I think that maybe that intrigued him. Maybe he was attracted to my brokeness or maybe my wildness. But I felt safe with him. I felt protected.." She paused. The sun had started to rise over the mountains. "I almost told him about my past. I came so close once, but I could not bring myself to do it. I still felt that it was my fault somehow. I thought that if I just did not talk about it, then maybe it wasn't true. Maybe it never really happened at all." Her breathing had been affected by her crying and the air skipped into her lungs like a pen skips over paper when it is low of ink. "I clung to that." She said. "We got married when I was eighteen. Then we moved here, to Cutter Gap. I thought that this was the perfect place to escape it all. But soon Mac was gone for weeks at a time, leaving me alone to think about my past. Just me and that cabin-- no one to talk to or to listen to. Mac became absorbed in his work, and with each person that he lost, he became more dedicated and determined. He had less and less to give me." "And then Mother came,. and with her she brought the memories of my past. I could not escape it. She made it real again. I felt worthless. I was a lie. My whole life was a lie, and I didn't deserve Mac or Mother. I never deserved them in the first place." "Mac helped these two men one night. They came bursting into the cabin. They were strangers to the cove. One of the men had been shot. I do not know anything about them, other than they must have been running from the law, but I can still picture their faces." She shook all over as if she were cold. "The week after that, Mac had to go to Low Gap to help with a Typhus out break. He had been gone almost a week. Mother was in Cataleechie. It was a stormy night, when it happened. Those two men came back." Margaret looked at me with her eyes so full of pain that I could almost feel it myself. "Then it happened all over again, Christy. It had to be me. Jack had been right; it was me." She cried again. The tears fell from her bottom lashes down her cheeks and wet her lips. "But this time I was determined to die. I wanted them to kill me, Christy. But they beat me senseless and left me in the cabin floor. When I woke up, they were gone. I went to the river that night to kill myself. I took some of Mac's medicine, hung my locket and scarf on a tree, and jumped into the river. The cold water washed me down stream. I do not know how long I was out, but I woke up on the river bank, still alive. I lay in the storm and hoped that lightening would kill me, or that I would not wake up, but I did." "I knew that I could not go home. Mac could never love me after that--I was not worth love. How would he understand? And if I did not tell him, I would push him away, as I had done Mother. I would blame him for what happened. And perhaps, he would blame himself. I could not face any of it. I had to go." I remained still and watched her. She was obviously drained of energy. She sat starring. She had regained control over her tears, but I could see the tightness of her jaw and throat. She fought hard to keep control. "And now it is too late for me. I am broken. And I have hurt Mother and Mac so much that nothing can be done to repair our relationship. I have to accept that, but it's hard, you know." She closed her eyes and sobbed. "I miss them." She was breathless. "I'm afraid to die alone." She looked away--up stream. "And last night with Paul--" She stopped herself. I pulled her to me again and hugged her. She was still shaking. "It isn't you Margaret. It is not your fault." I looked up at the golden sun that hung only slightly over us. I pulled away to look at her. "My father used to say that the world renews itself at dawn. Margaret, you CAN start over, but first, you have to tell Alice and Neil what you have just told me. It isn't fair for them not to know. They need to understand you, as I do now." As soon as I said this, I heard a rustling of branches. I looked across the creek and saw Neil and Charlie approaching. "Chirsty!" He shouted. He slid from the horse's back and rushed across the creek to us. ###################################################################### Part XXII "Christy?" Margaret said. She moved closer to me. "Please don't tell anyone what I told you." She whispered with desperation. I knew that Neil and Alice needed to know about her past, but she had given me her trust, and I was not about to lose it. "I promise." I said. As Neil splashed through the creek toward us, I felt relieved. "Christy!" He called again. I stood weakly and wavered on my legs. He wore my leather satchel over his shoulder; the strap lay across his chest. He must have found it under the maple tree. He ran up the shore and hugged me. He was out of breath. "I heard the gun shots. I couldn't find you. Are you all right?" I nodded, and he pulled away. His tone changed to anger. "That was a damned fool thing to do, running off like that. What were you thinking!" His words squelched what little strength I had left. I could not help myself; tears of exhaustion filled my eyes. "She had no choice Mac!" Margaret said; her voice was so shaky and weak that it was scarcely audible. "She saved my life!" Neil looked at her in surprise as if he had not known that she was there. "What happened?" He asked. I said nothing because I did not know what Margaret wanted to tell him, and Margaret did not speak either. Neil looked at us; his eyes swept back and forth between us. "I need to get you two back to the mission." He said in his professional voice. Margaret remained seated on the rocky bank. In the full morning sun, she looked ashen white except for her bruised eye. She appeared even more devoid of energy than I felt. I knew that I had to regain my strength. She had been through so much. What right had I to feel badly after all that she had been through? I brushed my tears away and reached out to help her to her feet. She was still shivering, but she took my hand. When she stood, she began to cough. She leaned on me; Neil stood on her other side, and between us, we supported her. Once across the creek, Neil helped her upon Charlie's back. The thought of walking all the way to the mission made me feel sick, but Neil needed to help Margaret ride, so I turned and began to trudge up the hill. "No Christy," Neil said. "You are riding with Margaret." I was about to protest when I heard a voice call, "Christy!" I turned and from out of the trees, I saw a huge grey horse. It was Moonshine and George. I smiled. He pulled the horse to a halt in front of me and dismounted as fast as his leg would allow. He hugged me so tight that it hurt my side. I gasped. "Did I hurt you?" "No, I'm fine." "Oh Christy--" He said and looked at me with his big blue eyes so full of worry and pain. He hugged me again. "I thought I had lost you too. What would I do without YOU, Christy? You're my big sister. I couldn't make it without you!" When he released me, I saw that David, Birdseye and Lundy Taylor, Ault and Bob Allen had encircled us. I found it strange to see the Taylors and Allens riding together. I looked at George; no doubt he had something to do with it. He wore his white and blue striped shirt; it had tiny holes at the elbows. He looked more like a mountain boy than an Asheville gentleman. Miss Alice burst into the circle with Goldie at a full gallop. When she saw me, she smiled. "Thank God thee is safe." She said. Then she looked up and saw Margaret. "Margaret?" She said surprised. "I didn't know---art thou okay?" Margaret sat hunched over Charlie's neck; she did not answer. Miss Alice coaxed Goldie over to her daughter and asked again. "Margaret?" She took her hand and squeezed it. Margaret looked up at her and smiled weakly. "We need to get them to the mission house." Neil instructed. Alice nodded. "Christy can ride with me," David said. I looked around at the faces before me. I marveled that only the night before I wondered if I would ever see them again. David jumped down and helped me upon Prince's back. I was even more tired than I realized. He swung up behind me and put his arms around me to grip the reins. Once everyone was mounted, we started on the long ride home. "I was so worried about you, Christy," David whispered. "Are you okay?" "I'm just tired." I said. But every quick movement or jostle that Prince made caused me pain. I gritted my teeth and held my breath most of the way home. I tried not to lean against David, but sitting so straight made my side hurt. I kept my knees tight against Princes warm flanks. I tired to keep my mind off of the pain by thinking of my soft bed and Fairlight's quilt. Finally we were home, and I slid off of Price and walked dazily into the mission house. I wanted so much to go straight up to my bed and lie down, but I knew that I should make sure that Margaret was okay first. Margaret and Alice came in behind me. Miss Alice guided her to the davenport and made her sit down. "I will go make thee some tea." Alice said. I saw Margaret flinch when she said the word "thee." As Alice disappeared into the kitchen, I sat down on the coffee table. "Margaret? I know I promised that I would not say anything, and I won't, but you have got to tell them. You can't keep running from this forever. They have to know." Neil came in the front door with his saddlebags thrown over his shoulder. His face was stern, and he tightened his jaw when he looked at us. "Okay, let's have a look at the two of you." He walked over and squatted next to us. He wore a muted plaid vest and a white shirt with rolled sleeves. Some of his curls spilled over his forehead. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asked. I looked at Margaret. She looked at me and then at Neil. The house was hot and sultry. My shins tingled with the heat. Alice came in from the kitchen with a tray of non-matching cups and a teapot. I stood up so that she could set the tray down on the coffee table. Neil stood up too. I sat down on the arm of the davenport next to Margaret. She coughed harshly. "Your cough is much worse, Margaret," Neil said. "You need to lie down and rest just now." He felt of her forehead. "You have a fever too. I want you to lie down." She shook her head and pushed him away. "It was Paul," she said shakily. "He's a man that I owed money to from Atlanta. I borrowed the money when I was sick--for hospital bills and medicine. He came here to collect it. I was working in the tea house to try to make the money to pay him back." She starred at the floor. No one spoke. Alice and Neil both remained standing. She looked at Neil. "You had already left to make your rounds yesterday when he came to the cabin to get me, but I ran from him. I knew what he would do to me if I did give him the money. He beat a girl to death once because she did not pay him." She stopped there because Dr. Ferrand entered the room from the back door. "David just said that you were home. Thank God you are safe, Miss Huddleston." He said. Then he investigated the room. His expression conveyed that he felt awkward. "I'm sorry for interrupting. I will visit with you later. I am trying to repair the old wagon. We lent Jeb Spencer the good one so that he could take his honey to market." "Thank you Dr. Ferrand." I said and smiled at him. "I would like to visit with you later. He made a subtle bow and went back out the door. Everyone turned back to Margaret. She started again. "I thought that I had escaped him, but he caught me. Then, Christy came. I do not know where she came from, she just appeared, and somehow, she got him away from me." She paused and reached across my lap for my good hand. Her eyes glistened up at me, reminding me once again of Amelia. "He knocked her down the hill, but she got up and told him that she had the money to pay him. He agreed to let her go get the money, but if she brought anyone back with her he would kill me." Neil's expression softened, and he turned his gaze to me. Margaret did not finish. Her teeth were chattering even in the heat. I picked up a quilt and wrapped it around her. Then I continued the story for her. "He cut my hand as a vow that he would not hurt her before the sun set. If I brought the money in time, he would let us go, so I ran here to get the money and that is when I ran into you, Dr. MacNeill." I looked at him. "I ran out the back door because I had to get back to Margaret before sunset. I was afraid to tell you. I was afraid for Margaret." Alice sat down next to Margaret and rubbed her hand over her back. "I made it just in time, but I found that he HAD hurt her." When I said this, Margaret cried. She looked so small. The tapestry-covered davenport swallowed her. Neil handed her his handkerchief. I continued. "He demanded the money. But when I gave it to him, he said that it was not enough. I offered to get the rest from the bank in El Pano. He went crazy--shooting his gun. He was drunk. When he ran out of bullets, I hit him with a rock, and Margaret and I got away." No one said anything. Finally Margaret spoke. "There's more, so much more. Please sit down, Mac." She motioned to the chair. "I need to talk to you both. I should have told you a long time ago." She shuddered. I took a deep breath, for I knew what was coming. Neil sat in the wing-backed chair just across the coffee table. "Margaret, do you want me to leave?" I asked. "No Christy, please stay." She said and grabbed my hand again, holding it tightly. George came in the front door just as Margaret was about to begin. "Christy?" He said. "I wanted to go fishing with Uncle Bogg and the Allen's, but I won't go if you are feeling badly." "George. It's okay you can go fishing. " I said. Then I thought of Paul. He was still out there somewhere. "George, maybe you shouldn't go." I got up and walked to the door. "I mean that man is still out there." David stood behind George on the porch. "I can go with him, Christy." David offered. I noticed that the summer sun had freckled his nose and cheeks. I smiled. "Thank you so much David. That would make me feel much better." David nodded. "We will be back before dark then." He said. "Yes--just before dark," George said with a chuckle. As he shut the door, I heard David say, "Get some rest Christy." I returned to my seat on the arm of the davenport. "I'm sorry for the interruption." I said. Margaret floundered and stared at the floor. She had lost her courage. I took her hand and squeezed it tightly. She smiled at me. Her eyes searched me for something. "My sister." She whispered this so softly that I was not sure she meant to say it aloud. I smiled and nodded to her. "Sisters." She coughed slightly. Then she turned back to Neil and began again. "It started when I was sixteen--" she said. Despite her tears and coughing, she managed to tell Neil and Alice everything. Alice covered her mouth with her hand. The news had choked her. She had tears in her eyes, and her skin grew as ashen as Margaret's. "Oh Margaret, why didn't thee-you tell me. Oh my little Margaret, I am so sorry." Alice hugged her daughter and stroked her hair. She rocked Margaret back and forth. Watching them made me miss my own mother so much. I looked at Neil. He sat with his elbows on his knees and stared at Alice and Margaret. His square jaw had tightened again. Sunlight streamed in through the window. The clock chimed. I lost track of the chimes. It seemed like so much time had passed since I had walked up the mountain to work on my lesson plans. For several minutes the only sound in the room was Margaret's soft crying. Neil did not move, and then, he got up and walked out the front door. Margaret cried harder when the door slammed. I knew that more than anything, she wanted Neil to understand. And Neil must be hurting too. Even through his stone hard face, I had seen his anguish. I wanted to follow him and make sure that he was all right. "Christy, will you talk to him for me?" Margaret asked, sniffling and trying hard to control her emotions. "Make sure he's okay?" I nodded and followed him out the door. When I was outside, I saw him. He had already crossed the soft green meadow and walked into the woods at a sharp pace. I quickened my step and hastened after him. "Neil! Dr. MacNeill!" I called. He did not turn around or answer me. Maybe he could not hear me. I walked faster, trying to catch up with him. I started to run, but my side hurt so much when I breathed deeply that I had to return to a walk. "Neil!" I shouted and held my side. "Neil!" I continued to follow him. I saw him just ahead of me in the trees. I was close enough now that he must have heard me, but he did not turn around. I knew that he wanted to be left alone, but I could not bear to see him so hurt. I wanted to be there for him as he had been there for me so many times. I pressed deeper into the woods. My vision became fuzzy, and I felt oddly dizzy. The day had turned unbearably hot. I felt the clammy sweat on the back of my neck and on my cheeks. My hair stuck to my skin. The sticky humidity made me feel queasy. I stopped and leaned against a tree. I was just too exhausted to follow him any further. I slid down the tree until I was sitting. I wished so much that my mother was there to hold me. I closed my eyes and envisioned her arms around me. I could almost smell her lavender perfume. Then I thought of Daddy and how he used to carry me to bed almost every night. Oh I missed them so much. It was still so hard for me to believe that they were gone. Somehow, in my mind, I still thought of them as being in Asheville, waiting for me to return for a visit. "Christy, are you all right lass?" When I opened my eyes, I saw Neil on his knees next to me. His face was just in front of mine. He touched my forehead with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, forgive me. I should not have left you behind like that. I just needed to be alone for a minute." "What happened to Margaret isn't your fault." I said. "You're no good to anyone if you flog yourself over it, take it from a woman who knows." I smiled at him. He nodded knowingly. "Christy, these bruises," he pointed to my neck. "Did he---" Neil stopped and looked at me searchingly. "No, well, he pinned me against a tree by the throat. I couldn't breath. I have never been so scared, Neil. He would have killed us if he had not run out of bullets." He touched my cheek softly. "I'm so sorry this happened. Damn, I wish I had been there. I should have been there, just as I should have been there for Margaret years ago. Maybe if I had been there for her, none of this would have happened." "Neil, it isn't your fault. And you did not know about Margaret. There was nothing you could have done because she ran away. " "But I shouldn't have been gone so much. I shouldn't have left her alone. It IS my fault. I was too wrapped up in proving myself as a doctor." He sat back on his heels and sighed deeply. I noticed tears in his eyes. "No Neil it isn't your fault any more than it is Alice's. Neither of you knew. How could you have known? The only thing you can do is be there for her NOW." "Poor Margaret. I had no idea she was in so much pain. How can a husband have no idea that his wife is in pain? I'm a doctor, Christy. I was trained to observe and notice everything. How could I have missed my own wife's suffering?" He combed his fingers through his hair. His eyes were far away. "What kind of a husband am I?" "Neil, you are a good man. One of the best that I know. Margaret hid things well, even from herself. You would have been there for her if you had known." "What kind of god would let this happen, Christy?" He looked at me deeply. "If there is a god, why would he let this happen?" "I don't know. But there is a reason. We just can not understand." "How can you believe in a god that would let this happen? He shouted. "I do not believe!" He balled his hands into tight fists. I closed my eyes, leaned my head against the tree, and searched for something to say. I was so exhausted that I did not have the strength to construct an argument. I could only say what was in my heart. "God does exist Neil. When you close your eyes, you can feel him. When you sit on the river or beneath a tree and you get that feeling--the feeling that all is right with the world--that's God. Or when you are alone crying with a sadness that you think will never end, a sadness that you can not bear alone--He is there. He gives you the strength that you did not know you had. I do not always understand how or why things happen. I do not understand why He took my parents away, but there is a reason. A reason that we can not understand yet. But someday we will. I promise you, someday we will understand." I wanted so much for him to feel God's love. He would be okay if he could just feel it. I picked up his large hand and opened his fist. Lacing my fingers through his, I felt the warmth of his palm. I clung to him tightly as if somehow I could physically lead him to God. Then I closed my eyes. He did not say anything. We sat quietly for a long time. The shade of the tree and the soft breeze cooled us. The birds chirped happily. The woods smelled like the mossy river bottom. When I opened my eyes again, I smiled at him. "You have the brightest smile I have ever seen, Christy Huddleston." He said. "I would walk for miles just to see it." He lifted my chin so that I had to look at him. I took in his whole face-- his wrinkled brow, his straight nose and lightly pinked lips. Every line, every glistening, ruddy whisker, I memorized. He looked at me with his smiling eyes and said, "Did I ever tell you that you are my best friend." I felt my ears turn hot. I did not know what to say. I could not look at him. I was afraid he would see my eyes and know that I loved him. "You are my best friend too, Neil MacNeill." I kept my eyes on the grass that flittered in the breeze. He turned my hand over and examined it. "I need to get this wound clean and bandaged with some proper bandages. It's too late for stitches now. We will have to keep it as clean as possible." He studied me carefully. "And I need to get you back to the mission. Do not think that I haven't noticed that your side has been hurting you. You will have to endure a complete exam when we get back. And then you are going to get some sleep." He waited with a serious expression on his face as if he thought I would argue with him. "Oh, I almost forgot." He plunged his fingers into his vest pocket and pulled out my locket. "I found this on the mountain." I checked my own pocket because I could not believe that he had it. Again, I had not noticed that I had lost it. 'Thank you so much." I said and took it from him. "Oh and this fell out." He handed me the crumpled paper with the lyrics to "Down in the Valley." He smiled, and I blushed. Thankfully, he did not stare at me. He only stood up and swept me into his arms. "First class service to the mission, madam." He said with his wonderful smile. "No Neil, put me down, I can walk." "I know you can walk, Christy. But I'm not going to let you." His face gleamed with satisfaction. ###################################################################### Part XXIII Though Neil held me gently, his grip hurt my side. With every step the pain grew worse. "Neil, please put me down, it's hurting my side." I said. He looked at me with concern and then set me on my feet. "Where does it hurt, Christy?" He asked. I cupped my right side with my hand. He crouched down in front of me and carefully ran his hand along my ribs, pressing his thumb along the bone until he came upon my sore spot. The second that he touched it, I gasped and sucked air in through my gritted teeth. He looked up at me with his furrowed brow. "I'm sorry, lass." He said. "Why didn't you tell me that you were in that much pain?" He asked. I stood there, heavy with exhaustion, looking at him. "I was so worried about Margaret." I said. "And you. I guess I managed to put it out of my mind." He frowned but nodded, looking at me carefully. "It hurts to breathe?" He asked. I nodded. "I think that you may have a couple of cracked ribs, Christy. I must admit that I am impressed with how much you can endure." He said this as he took my wrist in his hand and felt for my pulse. "But you need to take better care of yourself. How long has it been since you've eaten something?" "Dinner the night before last." I said. "Why didn't you get something at the mission before?" He asked. "I didn't feel much like it after what Margaret said." "Aye, I know." He said. He sighed deeply and became reflective. Then he looked up at me with sad eyes. "But you need to eat something, and you need to rest." He stood up and held my face in both of his hands. "Thank you for what you did for Margaret, Christy. What you did, well, it was brave and kind." He said. He put his arm around me to support and guide me. "But then, I would expect nothing less from you." He paused and then said, "Come on let's get back to the mission." And then we continued our walk. As we came in the front door, I saw Margaret lying on the davenport with the quilt drawn around her. Miss Alice sat next to her and held her hand. Dr. Ferrand sat in the wing-backed chair. "Christy, you go on up to your room; I am going to check on Margaret, and then I will be up to bandage your hand." "Yes, of course." I said. He half grinned at me, patted my shoulder, and then joined Alice at Margaret's side. I stood on the third step up from the telephone and watched the scene before me. He felt her forehead and stroked her long, dark hair from her face. "Margaret?" He said and paused. "Margaret?" She opened her eyes. "Margaret, I'm so sorry." He said. "I'm so sorry." He took her in his arms and hugged her tenderly. She lay her head on his broad shoulder and closed her eyes. I smiled. I had hopped all along that they would forgive each other. It is what I had prayed for. And watching their hug, I could see that they had. He held her so tightly and rocked her gently. A strange sense of sadness consumed me. I suppose I felt sorry for myself. And this made me feel like a terrible person. I did not want to admit it, but perhaps part of me had not wanted Neil and Margaret to reconcile. I turned my eyes toward the ceiling. "God, why do you bother with me at all?" I whispered. I lumbered up the stairs, entered my room, and closed the door behind me. Why had God made me fall in love with Dr. MacNeill if He had not wanted something to come out of it? I had fought so hard not to love him. And we were such an unlikely pair. Why had He not bestowed the gift of love on David and me? But then I thought that if I had not loved Neil, I might never have tried to help Margaret. Now we were friends, sisters. Perhaps that was God's plan and His reason for making me fall in love with Neil. And Neil would still be part of my life. We were best friends; he had told me so himself only an hour before. Was this his way of telling me that he wanted us to be friends but that he had chosen to be with Margaret? I thought of the lyrics to "Down in the Valley." He had found the crinkled paper in my locket. I became so embarrassed. Oh, I was such a silly girl. What must he think of me--a schoolgirl with a crush? He had never been mine to lose, so why did I feel such loss? Why did I feel so alone? I closed my eyes and said a little prayer. "Please God, help me to forget my love for Neil MacNeill, I can not bear it any longer." I changed into a loose fitting, white, cotton sun-dress. I did not want to put my nightclothes on if Dr. MacNeill was going to come to my room later. It was late afternoon; I guessed around 4 o'clock. My little room was hot, and my hand throbbed even more because of the heat. I was so exhausted that it took me a long time to dress. My fingers were shaky, and I fumbled with the buttons. I felt drained. I poured water into the wash basin and washed my face and neck with perfumed soap. The water felt so refreshing. The clean, citrus scent of lemon verbena made me wish that I had the energy to take a bath. But a bath was out of the question because I could barely climb into bed. I did not even to take off my shoes. I lay down on top of my quilt; it was too hot for blankets. I found that lying on my back was the only comfortable position. And as my back straightened, it ached. Before the pain had abated, I fell asleep. I dreamed about Paul. He was running after me, reaching out to grab me. Just as his fingers clutched me, I woke up in the dimness of evening. I had to think for several minutes before I remembered where I was. After sleeping, I felt somewhat better. I found that my hand had already been neatly bandaged, and my ribs had been wrapped tightly in a cloth. I wondered how I could have slept through it. I shyly hoped that Miss Alice had done the wrapping. I got out of bed and looked out my window. Night fast approached Cutter Gap. Fading lavender blue lay on the horizon, the mountains were a deep purple, and cotton-candy pink clouds ornamented the sky. The evening brought a welcome coolness. I walked down the stairs quietly. The aroma of baking bread filled the air, and made me remember my hunger. I heard clamoring in the kitchen. Margaret no longer lay on the davenport; Neil was asleep in the chair. Not wanting to face him, I sneaked past him and opened the front door. I wanted to watch the sunset as I did almost every evening before dinner. I wondered if George was on his way home. I felt homesick for him. I found Margaret sitting on the porch steps. She had a quilt wrapped around her and leaned against the railing. I sat down beside her. I noticed that she had the leather bound journal that I had given her in her lap. She starred off into the distance, but her eyes were not focused; she appeared pensive. She had not even noticed that I had sat down beside her. "Margaret? Are you feeling better?" She turned to me. "I was just thinking about you." She said. "Are you sure that you should be out here, Margaret?" "No, I am sure that I should not, but I wanted to watch the sunset." She said. "Christy, what is the date today?" She asked. "August 14," I said. "Why?' She did not answer, but I watched her scribble the date down in her journal at the top of one of the pages. Then she closed it. We sat silently watching the sunset together. The evening seemed cooler than usual. It made me think about the approaching school year. I had so much to do to prepare for it. "I think that fall is on its way." I said. "I noticed today on our ride back home that he color of the sunlight seems to be changing from the summer yellow to autumn orange. It won't be much longer now." Margaret seemed saddened by this comment. I could not understand why. I looked at her with wonder. I found it difficult to know what she was thinking. "Christy, remember that first time we took a walk together and you asked me what I liked to do?" "Yes," I said. "Well, I did not tell you that I liked to write, but you brought this writing journal for me anyway. How did you know that I would like it?" "It just looked like you," I said. She smiled and looked out at the darkening mountains. "I have always wanted to be a writer, a poet. Ever since I was a little girl I dreamed of seeing my poems beside Robert Browning's and William Wordsworth's in anthologies. I saw a journal like this one in Atlanta. I wanted it so much, but I did not have the money to buy it." She looked at me again. "It is so odd how you would know that." This warmed my heart; I grinned at her broadly. "Have you written some poems?" I asked. "I would love to read them, and I know that the children would be fascinated. Rob Allen would enjoy them too." "I burned them all." She said. "But why?" As I said this, the front door opened. "Margaret, Christy, you two should not be out here, come inside." Miss Alice said. I noticed that she used the word "you" instead of "thee." And again, I marveled at how much Alice loved her daughter. "Dinner is ready," she said. I was so hungry. We both got up and went inside. We did not wait for George and David, and we did not wake Dr. MacNeill from sleep. Margaret, Alice, Ruby Mae, Dr. Ferrand, and I sat at the table. We held hands, and Dr. Ferrand said grace, "We thank you, oh Lord, for all your tender mercies and blessings. But we especially thank you tonight, dear Lord, for bringing Margaret and Christy safely home to us. Thank you for this wonderful meal for which we are about to receive. May it aid in the nourishing of our bodies and in the hastening of health for Christy and Margaret--Amen." We all dropped hands and began to eat Miss Alice's chicken and dumplings. I had never eaten anything so delicious in my life. With every warm bite, I felt better. I ate everything on my plate. I noticed that no one seemed to talk much. Even Ruby Mae sat quietly in her chair. Margaret only stirred her food around on her plate. "Oh Miss Alice, this is just what I needed. Thank you for making it." I said. She smiled at me, "I am glad that you like it, Christy." "Yes, Alice it is quite good. I can not remember having better chicken and dumplings before. And you know it is one of my favorite meals." Dr. Ferrand said. He grinned at Alice pleasantly. "I made an apple pie, Miss Christy." Ruby Mae said. "Well Ruby Mae, I would love to have a piece of it." She leapt from her chair with excitement and ran into the kitchen. I found it so sweet how Ruby Mae always tried hard to please me. She was such a dear girl. She came back to the table holding a very pretty pie. It had a perfect golden-brown lattice top. "Oh Ruby Mae, did you make the crust too?" I asked. "Yes'm." She said proudly. She sliced into it, placed a large piece on a plate, and then handed it to me. I smiled at her. I took a bite of it. It was so perfect that I closed my eyes to fully enjoy the flavor. Margaret laughed at me. "You are enjoying this huh, Christy?" She said. I laughed, which hurt my side, but not so much that I stopped myself completely. "I guess I was hungrier than I thought." I said a little embarrassed. "Oh Ruby Mae, It's just scrumptious. You are becoming a fine cook. Much better than I am, I'm afraid" Ruby Mae beamed with glee. "Rob Allen said he liked my cooking too." Dr. MacNeill walked in yawning. "Were you people going to let me sleep in that chair all night?" He asked. "We didn't want to have to share Ruby Mae's pie, " I said, trying to remain light hearted even though seeing his face made my throat tight. Everyone laughed, even Margaret. I was so glad to see her jolly. She even ate a few spoonfuls of chicken and dumplings. "I see," Dr. MacNeill said. "I knew that there had to be a motive." He sat down in David's chair. Alice ladled some chicken and dumplings on a plate and handed it to him. Then the front door opened and George and David came inside. "Dr. MacNeill!" They both called with alarm. Neil stood up from the table. "Yes, what is it?" "We need you to come look at something," George said. He sounded strange. I got up and followed Neil toward the door. "No, Christy, you stay here," David said. He held up his hand to stop me from following Neil further. "What is it?" I asked. "Just stay here for now, okay." "But David," I protested. David gave me a sidelong glance, and I nodded. He went outside with George and Neil. Everyone else crowded the doorway. Dr. Ferrand joined the men outside. Finally, my curiosity overtook me, and I went outside to see what was going on. Alice called after me, but she stayed in the house with Margaret. Ruby Mae followed close behind me. Neil knelt in the lantern light over a man that lay prone on the ground. Someone had been hurt, I thought. I could not tell who it was. David and George stood in the way. I came closer. "He's dead, been dead close to a day or two from the looks of things," I heard Neil say. "Looks like from head injuries." I gasped when I came close enough to see that it was Paul. I held my side in pain from the deep breath that I had taken. "Christy, I told you not to come out here." Daivd said. He took me in his arms and pulled me away. "Head injuries?" I asked and looked at Dr. MacNeill for confirmation. He nodded. Flashes of memory gripped me. I had hit Paul with a rock. But he had gotten up after that, I thought. But I had caused the injuries. I felt so ill. "Oh my God. I killed him. David, I killed him." I shouted. I looked back at the lifeless body. A deep grief wrapped itself around me and pulled me into a darkness that I had never known before. ###################################################################### Part XXIV His nose, his hands, his mouth--as long as I would live, Paul's face would never leave me. It had been indelibly burned in my mind. My stomach churned. I could not bear to look at his body anymore. I freed myself from David's grip and walked back to the mission house. I couldn't speak. I passed Alice and Margaret at the door, walked up the stairs, and closed myself in my room. I did not light my lantern. I sat on the hardwood floor in the deep blue darkness. Because of me, a man no longer lived. He no longer breathed. Thou shall not kill. This commandment beat through my mind like the sound of a tin drum. I clasped my hands together. "Oh God, please forgive me!" I said. I let the tears tickle my cheeks and did not bother to brush them away, "Please forgive me." I begged. My side hurt so much from the heavy and quick breaths that I involuntarily drew. But I knew I deserved more punishment than that. Then I heard a knock at my door. I did not answer. "Christy, it's Alice. Can I come in?" Even though I did not answer, she opened the door to my room. "Christy?" She lit the oil lantern that sat on my nightstand, and the room warmed with its dim light. Alice pulled me to my feet. Without a word, she took me in her arms and held me. She held me like my own mother used to hold me. She spoke no words; her touch alone rendered all of her compassion. After a long silence, she said. "Oh Christy, you are not to blame." She did not release me. "You saved my little girl's life." Her voice choked over these words, but she recovered. "And you managed to do something that I never could. You got Margaret to open her heart. Nothing I can say to you will ever fully explain what that means to me. Nothing." I could feel that she was crying. She pulled away to look at me. Her tear-filled eyes were serious and brown. "Christy, God has forgiven you, but you must forgive yourself." "But Miss Alice, all I can think about is something I read in the Bible. I can not remember the verse but it said if a man breaks just one commandment and keeps all the others, he is still guilty of breaking them all." "James 2:10." She said and smiled at me. "But James 4:10 reads, 'Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He shall lift you up.'" She paused and lifted my chin. "Christy, thee did not kill this man on purpose. And even if you had, you have humbled yourself before God. Let Him lift you up. It is only through Him that you will find joy." In my mind I knew that Miss Alice was right. But I could not relinquish the image of Paul's lifeless face. "Thank you Miss Alice. I will try." I said. Then she conducted me to my bed and gently pressed on my shoulders until I sat down. "You should get some sleep now, Christy." She dried my tears with the corners of her handkerchief. I smiled again at her use of the word "you." Then she collected my teddy bear from my nightstand and lay him upon my pillow. Alice and I both turned when we heard a knock. "Christy?" George said. "Are you okay?" He looked so tall standing in the doorway. I had hardly noticed how much he had grown. "I will leave you two now. Do you need anything Christy?" "No thank you." I said. And with that, Miss Alice left us. As soon as she had gone, George crutched over to my bed and sat down. "Christy, you can not be serious." He looked at me with such a puzzled expression. "How can you feel guilty over this man? He was a terrible man. Dr. MacNeill told me what he did. You did nothing wrong. I know that Father would say the same thing. He would say, 'Everything's going to be all right, Little Miss.' And he would be right. Because it will, Christy." I touched his smooth face with my fingertips. "You look more like father everyday." I said. "Pretty soon you will be shaving. Oh Georgie, he would be so proud of you." "We are not talking about me, here. We are talking about you." "Just like Daddy--always the lawyer, always turning back to the question at hand." George grinned finally. "So what is this I've been seeing with Bird's Eye and the Allens?" His smile grew broader. "Well, it seems that you are not the only one with a calling around here." He chuckled. "I just--" He was interrupted by another knock at the door. Dr. MacNeill stepped inside the room. "Miss Huddleston, I must insist that you save all talking till tomorrow, Doctor's orders. You need to rest." He wore his saddlebags over his shoulder. George stretched and yawned very dramatically. "Well, I should get some sleep too. I've got a long day tomorrow." He said and winked at me. I felt a blush cast over my face. "I will tell you all about this tomorrow, Christy." He said and kissed my forehead. "Good night." He walked passed Neil, turned when he stood behind him, and winked again. "Go to bed, George," I said. Just as Neil turned to look at him, George's face became suddenly sober, and he nodded at Neil. "Good night, Doctor." "Goodnight George." Neil said. And George left the room. Neil turned and looked at me sadly. "Christy, how are you?" He was gentle with me, not at all his difficult self. I expected him to challenge me and say something about "my god," but he did not. He seemed different somehow. "I just can not believe it, Neil. How can I have killed someone?" I felt my throat tighten and my vision become distorted by tears again. "Christy," He sat down beside me on the bed, laid his saddlebags at his feet, and took my uninjured hand. "You did what you had to do. You didn't intentionally kill him. The man got what he deserved. It's all going to be okay. I promise you, it's all going to be all right." His voice sounded so temperate and airy---like a feather on the wind. I loved his voice. I loved the way he used it as a tool to soothe his patients. It reminded me of the voice my father used when he read me to sleep. I hoped that Neil would be a father someday. He would be such a good father. Suddenly, I had a brief glimpse of him playing lions and tigers in front of the fire. "This has been a rough couple of months for you, lass. I'm worried about you. Just because you've been avoiding me lately, doesn't mean I haven't noticed that you're wearing yourself down. You don't have that spirit in your eyes. With everything else, you do not need to take this man's death on too. It is not good for you. I can not have you sick too." "I can't help it, Neil." "I want you to stay in bed for the next couple of days. You need to give those ribs a chance to mend, and frankly, you need the rest. So no arguments, okay?" "Only if I can work on my lesson plans." He laughed at me. "You will never change, will you Christy Huddleston? Stubborn to the end." "Not any more stubborn than you, Dr. MacNeill. Beside, I only have two weeks before school starts, and I have so much to do." "As long as you don't over do it, promise?" I nodded. "Oh, here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out my little drawstring bag. "David found this. Margaret said that it was yours." He handed it to me. My mind came alive at the sight of it. I opened the bag. All the money was there; I could start hiring some of the mountain people just as I had planned. Then my thoughts turned. "How is Margaret?" I asked. "Not well. She's asleep in Alice's room. I'm afraid that the tuberculosis has returned." He said. His expression darkened. "Ive telephoned Philadelphia for medicine and treatment proceedures. They have the best and most up-to-date research at present. We should be receiving the medicine soon. But for now, she is staying here at the mission. She needs Alice, and I'll be gone some of the day on medical visits; I'm afraid to leave her alone that long." I nodded. Neil took a small brown envelope from his saddlebags. He stood, stepped over to my dresser, and poured some water from the ceramic pitcher into my little crystal cup that used to sit on Mother's night stand. I watched his hands intently as he opened the envelope, poured white powder from the envelope into the cup, and mix it with a long silver instrument. He walked back over to me and handed me the cup. "Drink this Christy. It should stop some of the pain and help you sleep." He smiled weakly. I took the cup and drank the bitter liquid. He chuckled at me. "I love to watch your nose wrinkle," he explained. He took the cup from my hand and placed it on my nightstand, then said, "Okay, into bed." He tucked the quilt around me, tucked my teddy bear in too with a chuckle, and then turned down my lantern until only a thin orange glow remained at the tip of the wick. "Good night, Christy." He whispered. "Good night, Doctor." I said as he left the room. Somehow I felt better. ********************* The next morning, I awoke to the sound of soft humming. I looked around the room, but determined that it was coming from outside. When I opened my windows, I found Neil saddling his horse. He must have spent the night. He was humming the tune to "Down in the Valley" as he cinched his saddle upon Charlie's back. Glancing up, he noticed me, and I actually thought I saw him blush. He looked away quickly, pretending that he had not seen me, but I knew that he had. He turned back to me rather flustered and said angrily. "Miss Huddleston, you had better get back in that bed this instant! Remember, you made me a promise." "I know, I know," I said. "I just wanted to see who was making all that noise." I smiled. He mounted his horse and then addressed me again. "I will be back this afternoon, and I better not hear that you stepped one foot out of that bed." Then he rode off at a neck-breaking pace. That morning, the mission house was chaotic and noisy, and I could not concentrate on my lesson plans at all. Dr. Ferrand's large feet scuffled across the floor and up and down the stairs. He was preparing to leave. I could hear David's voice bellowing down stairs. I placed my pillow over my ears, but it did not help. The summer heat had already made my room unbearable. I got up and dressed myself and tiptoed down stairs. David noticed me first. "Christy, we are under strict orders not to let you or Margaret out of bed, what are you doing up?" David asked. "Oh David, it is so hot upstairs. Maybe you could move the davenport and the chair outside, and Margaret and I could sit out on the porch." I smiled my most charming smile. David grinned at me. "How can I resist THAT smile." He said. And he set to work at moving the chair out on the porch. Dr. Ferrand came down the stairs. He was straightening his tie as he descended. "Ah, Christy, I am glad that you are here. I wanted to bid you farewell. I am sorry that I must go so suddenly, but my mission in Newton Co. Arkansas needs me as soon as possible." "I understand, Dr. Ferrand," I said. "I am just so glad that I got to see you." "It was a pleasure, my dear. I am so glad that you could return to Cutter Gap." "Dr. Ferrand, do you think that you could give me a hand over here," David said with a strained voice. He was attempting to move the davenport by himself. As Dr. Ferrand helped David, Alice came down from Margaret's room, carrying a tray of dishes. "Heaven's!" She called. "What is all this commotion?" "I thought it would be nice if Margaret and I sat outside." "Indeed," she said. "Well, I suppose it IS hot upstairs." I nodded. Ruby Mae burst in from the kitchen. "I have biscuits warming if you want some Mizz Christy." She smiled. "No thank you Ruby Mae, I am not very hungry. "I would like to take a bath though," I said. "I bet Margaret would too." "I can heat up the water," Ruby Mae said with excitement. "Where's Fairlight?" I asked Miss Alice. "Jeb and Tom are still gone to sell their honey. She is home with the children again today." Miss Alice said. I longed to see Fairlight. I wanted so much to talk to her. Ruby Mae came back in from the kitchen. "I put the water on to boil." She said. As soon as David and Ferrand moved the furniture, they loaded the wagon. We said goodbye from the porch. I noticed George, Rob Allen, and John Spencer were fishing in the mission pond. Miss Alice followed David and Ferrand out to the wagon and waved goodbye until they were out of sight. Dr. Ferrand was scheduled to leave El Pano on the evening train. I went up to my room to get my lesson books. Ruby Mae entered my room soon after. "Miss Christy?" "Yes Ruby Mae." I said. "I know I promised the Doc not to disturb ya, but Bird's Eye Taylor is downstairs asking fer ya." I found this odd. I hesitated for only a minute and then followed Ruby Mae down the stairs. Mr. Taylor waited in the parlor. When he saw me, he took his hat off, revealing his shining baldhead. "Miss Christy," he said. "I come to say I's sorry fer your troubles." "Thank you, Mr. Taylor," I said. I watched him fidget and shift his wait from one foot to the other. "Miss Christy, I know'd we ain't been on no good terms . I came to call on you and apologize." His words dumbstruck me. I stood speechless. "I wanted to tell you that your brother, well, what I mean is, I wanted to take him on a hunting trip. My cousin, Therman, and I wanted to take him hunting for a few days. He told me that I had to ask you." I hesitated. How could I send George out with such a man? A man that had set the school on fire--a notorious moonshiner. "Mr. Taylor, I---" He interrupted me. "Miss Christy, that boy, well he's special to me. I expect you know about my younger son, Jacob?" I shook my head. "Jacob was my younger boy, not quite two years younger than Lundy. He was a good boy, smart like your George and the best horseman in these here parts. He was shot by one of them Allens. I think it was Ault Allen, but I ain't shore. He was a good boy. He was about George's age when he got killt. Doc couldn't save him." He paused and rotated his hat in his hands. "Your boy, George, reminds me of Jacob." I nodded. I had not realized how much Bird's Eye had lost to the feud. Why had no one ever spoken of Jacob before? "I am sorry to hear about your son, Mr Taylor, but George--" "It would mean a lot to the boy." He said. "It would mean a lot to me too." He looked at me so pitifully that I melted. "Mr. Taylor, if George wants to go, I suppose I should let him. As long as you are careful and bring him home safe." "You ain't got to worry none. I wouldn't let nothing happen to that boy." He placed his hat back on his head. "We will leave this afternoon, if that'd be all right by you, ma'me." "That would be fine," I said. I was still hesitant to let George go with him. Bird's Eye nodded goodbye and went out the front door. I looked out the front window and watched him walk to the pond dock and talk to George. George stood up and shook his hand. He had a smile on his face. And when I saw it, I felt better about my decision. I wished that Uncle John could see how happy George was in Cutter Gap. "Miss Christy, your bath water is ready," Ruby Mae said. "I put that lily powder in it sos it would smell nice for ya." "Thank you, Ruby Mae." I said. I had not realized how much support that the cloth wrap had offered my ribs, until I took it off. The pain had returned in full force, and it hurt even to take little breaths. After my bath, Miss Alice helped re-wrap the cloth back around me, and I felt much better to be clean. Margaret took a bath too. And she changed into her yellow calico sundress that she had worn on my first day back in Cutter Gap. It was a bright sunny afternoon. Margaret and I sat on the porch. She lay on the davenport and I sat in the chair. "Thank you Christy, it is so much nicer out here where there is a breeze." Margaret said. Miss Alice sat out side with us in one of the rocking chairs and read her Bible. Ruby Mae had joined the boys by the pond. I could here her chattering in the distance. I was reading a book on American history, but the author's dry writing style and the heat made me feel sleepy. Margaret seemed engrossed with something that she was writing in her leather journal. Still holding my book close, I watched her. She lay on her side, sucking the end of her pen. She coughed frequently. I wondered what she was writing. An eruption of Ruby Mae's giggles brought my attention to the pond and George. "Miss Alice," I said, placing my book in my lap. "How come no one ever mentions Bird's Eye's son, Jacob." Alice looked at me over her reading glasses. "Because it is a sore subject to say the least. It is the fire behind Mr. Taylor's rage and to mention it would be to stoke that fire." She took her glasses off and looked at me with interest. "Why do you ask, Christy?" "Well, he told me that George reminded him of Jacob." "Yes, he has taken quite a liking to George hasn't he. And the Allen's as well. Perhaps George has come here for a reason, Miss Huddleston." Miss Alice's smile sparked a strong sense of pride in me. A pride for being George's sister. I could not help but grin. The day lazily tripped by, and in the late afternoon, George packed a knapsack full of clothes and stood with Bird's Eye in front of the Mission house. "You be careful Georgie, okay?" I told him. "I will, don't be such a worry wart." He said. Bird's Eye smiled. When they started to leave. Bob Allen road up on his horse. He dismounted in a hurry. "You all seen the preacher?" He asked. "No," Miss Alice said. "Is there something we can help you with Mr. Allen?" "Well, Ault's been missing since yesterday morning. He was supposed to help with the mill today and he ain't showed. I'm getting worried. I thought maybe the preacher had seen him." "We have not seen Ault, and Rev. Grantland is gone to El Pano." Miss Alice said. "Bird's Eye and I could help you look for him." George said. Bird's Eye grimaced but nodded. "I'll help you, But I've got saddle my horse." Miss Alice said. Miss Alice saddled Goldie and joined Bob, Rob Allen, John Spencer, George and Bird's Eye in the search. This left Margaret, Ruby Mae and I alone on the porch. Soon after the search party had departed, I saw Swannie, Moutie, and Becky O'Teale walk up the path. Swannie held Mountie's hand. They came to the porch. "Miss Christy," Swannie said. Her face was covered in dirt. "I be needing to talk to you." "Yes Swannie, what is is?" "It's Mountie. Ever since yesterday, she has not said a word. I started to worrying about her last night, but I couldn't come over till this afternoon. I thought that since you'd helped her before, maybe you could help her again." ###################################################################### Part XXV Swannie's face had sunken into a deep expression of worry--an expression only a mother could have. Her cheeks sagged and the sadness that had always been present in her cloudy blue eyes seemed even more melancholy. Her concern for Mountie warmed my heart. I placed my book down and held out my arms. "Come here Mountie." I said. Mountie walked up the steps with her head down. I pulled her into my lap though it pained my side to do so. Soil and grime covered her cheeks, but beneath all the soot, I could see her beautiful eyes that were as big and blue as the open sky. "What's wrong Mountie, honey?" I asked and tucked her hair behind her ears. She said nothing but rested her head against my shoulder and sighed as if she were an old and tired woman. "Mountie," I said. "Did you know that we have a great big watermelon in the garden just waiting to be eaten. Ruby Mae, didn't you make ginger cookies last night?" "Yes Ma'me," Ruby Mae said proudly. "And I know we have some mint tea inside. How would you and Becky and your mother like to have a tea party with me, Ruby Mae, and Miss Margaret?" She did not speak, but she nodded. I smiled at her and then looked up at Swannie. "It's okay, isn't it?" I asked. "Well, we can't be taking no charity, Miss Christy." "I know Swannie, but---" I sighed. Once again the familiar mountain pride blocked my way like a slammed door in my face. I struggled for what to say. "Christy?" Margaret said. "Didn't mother mention that you were going to hire some people to do odd jobs around here?" Margaret's timing was impeccable; I looked up at her in time to witness a bright smile flutter briefly over her face. "Yes, Swannie." I said. "We are hiring anyone who wants to work. We have some odd jobs around here. Since Fairlight is at home while Jeb is away, we need someone to do the laundry. Do you think you could manage that? I can pay you cash money, and the watermelon and tea can be part of your wages." Swannie smiled, her teeth were surprisingly white. "I reckon I could do that." She said. Immediately, her smile reminded me of last Thanksgiving when Mother got Swannie to take some food by trading her for her knowledge of herbal medicine. I looked at Margaret with gratitude. Her yellow calico dress shone as bright as the sun. In the kitchen, I readied the tea. Ruby Mae placed her cookies on a platter. We carried everything to the porch, and I sliced the watermelon and gave everyone a wedge. Swannie sat in my chair, Margaret remained on the davenport, and I sat on the wooden porch with Ruby Mae, Becky and Mountie. We sipped tea from eclectic, yet dainty, cups, and I served from Miss Alice's teapot. "Just like our tea parties in Asheville." I said as I poured. Becky and Mountie smiled, but Mountie still did not say anything. The watermelon was cool and sweet, and the late afternoon sun cast copper light over the mission house. We ate watermelon until our cheeks and hands were sticky with the red juice. The juice had soaked the bandage around my hand. I took off the bandage and went inside to get a fresh one. Then I wet cup towels at the pump for everyone to wash with. After I had passed them out, I spotted David driving across the open meadow in the wagon. A burly man sat beside him, and a buckskin horse, which was tied to the back, trotted along behind them. I waited till they were almost to the pond, and then rushed out to meet them. David halted the mules just past the pond's edge and jumped down from the wagon. "Christy, you were not even supposed to get out of bed today. What are you doing out here?" He wore a charming look of concern on his face; his left eyebrow raised higher than his right. He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "David, something's happened. Ault Allen is missing. Miss Alice and the others went to search for him, and Mountie is here. She has not said a word since yesterday. David, I'm worried about her." "How long has Ault been missing, and what's the matter with Mountie?" David asked. He took off his straw hat, revealing his pressed and sweaty hair, which was indented where the hat had been. Before I could answer, the burley stranger stepped out of the wagon. He was not very tall, but he had a barrel chest and a husky build. "I'm Floyd MacNabb," he said. He had a low-pitched voice and wore grey pinstriped slacks and a starched white shirt. His hair and wiry mustache were the color of butterscotch. He held his hand out to me. "You must be Miss Huddleston." He said. I shook his hand. "I've heard a lot about you." "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. MacNabb," I said. "Please excuse me for not making the introductions," David said, "Christy, Floyd MacNabb is a federal marshal. He has come to, well, to take Paul's body--" "I've come to investigate, Miss Huddleston. You see, Paul Jenkins was a wanted man." He said politely. The mention of Paul's name made me feel uneasy. I could feel my stomach clinch. Mr. MacNabb turned to David. "I would be glad to help you search for your friend." He said. "Christy, do you know where everyone went?" David asked. "They broke up into groups, Bird's Eye and George went toward Pebble Mountain. Miss Alice took John and Rob to Big Lick, and I think Bob went to search the Pinnacles." "And Dr. MacNeill?" He said. His eyebrow raised again. "He may be out searching too; we haven't seen him all day." "All right, we will need some lanterns, and maybe some sandwiches to take with us." David said. "I think we will head out for Pigeon Roost Hollow and perhaps meet up with someone along the way." While David and Mr. MacNabb unhitched the mules, Ruby Mae and I scurried about making sandwiches and tying them up in brown paper, for we had dirtied all the cup towels. The men were on their way by dusk, with David on Prince and Mr. MacNabb on his buckskin. Swannie, Becky, and Mountie left soon after. "I'll be back tomorrow to do the laundry, Miss Christy." Swannie called over her shoulder as she left. Ruby Mae and I ate sandwiches on the porch for dinner. Margaret said that she was not hungry and did not touch a morsel of food. She had a terrible coughing fit just as darkness fell, which left her completely spent. In the moonlight, I noticed how gaunt and pale she looked. Her head bobbed shakily on her neck. She desperately needed some rest. I walked over to her and placed my hand on her forehead. She felt warm. I should not have suggested that she spend all day out of bed. Dr. MacNeill would not have approved of my foolishness. "It's been a long day," I said. "We should all try to get some sleep." Margaret did not argue. "I am tired." She said. I helped her up the stairs and change into her cotton nightgown with lace trim. Then I helped her climb into bed. "Can I get you anything else?" I asked. She shook her head. "Thank you for your help with Swannie today." I said. She smiled at me. "Sure," she said. "Anytime." With the covers pulled to her chin, she looked like a little girl. She stared up at me with Amelia's sensitive eyes. She coughed weakly. There was a frailty about Margaret. She was like a paper doll. I kissed her forehead instinctively. "Goodnight," I said. "Goodnight, Christy." It was still early, so Ruby Mae and I sat on the porch to wait. I sat in the chair and Ruby Mae laid down on the davenport. "Do you suppose everyone is all right? Lordy they sure have been gone a long time. I hope Rob Allen's okay? Do you reckon they found him, Miss Christy?" "I hope so Ruby Mae, but I do wish that they would send someone to tell us what is happening." I sighed. "Miss Christy, you look mighty tired. Maybe you should go up and get some sleep too. I promised Dr. MacNeill to look after you today, and I ain't rightly done my duty." "Oh, no Ruby Mae, I'm okay. I just want to wait till we have some news." I snuggled deeper into the chair. I was worried about George. And I worried about Mountie. Possibly she had an ear infection or a sore throat. Dr. MacNeill could take a look at her in the morning when Swannie came to do the laundry. "I could go try to find them," Ruby Mae said. "I bet I could find them." "No Ruby Mae, there are already enough people out looking. I do not want to have to sit and worry about you too." It was a beautiful summer night. I listened to the crickets. They reminded me of the summer nights in Asheville; father and I used to make ice cream on our front porch. We would take turns cracking the ice cream machine. Despite what I had told Ruby Mae, I WAS tired. I must have fallen asleep. Paul lurked there; waiting for me to dream--I saw him. His grin stretched his nose flat across his face. He had killed my parents. He held a bloody knife in his hand. "They are dead," he told me. I felt hot and my heart raced. "I've come for you now," He said and held the knife to my throat. Someone grabbed me, and I jumped awake. "Christy?" I was breathless with fright. It was Margaret. I sighed with relief and felt tears fill my eyes. "It was just a dream, Christy!" She said. She was kneeling in front of me and held my good hand. I wiped the tears away with the bandage on my other hand. Margaret leaned forward and hugged me tight. "I dreamed that Paul killed my parents," I explained to her. She pulled away from me, sat back on her heels, and said, "Oh, Christy, I'm so sorry." She watched me closely. "I miss my parents so much." I told her. I did not allow myself to cry. My throat ached with the tightness. After a short pause, I gathered my energy again, I looked at Margaret. "You shouldn't be out of bed." I told her. "Neither of you should!" I heard Miss Alice's voice call from the darkness. I heard horses in the distance. "Mother?" Margaret said as she got to her feet. I stood up as well. Ruby Mae was asleep on the davenport. Miss Alice walked up the mission steps. "Did you find Ault?" I asked. "Yes, we found him, " She said with a sigh. When she stood on the front porch, she pulled out her hatpin and removed her hat. "He is dead." She continued. "Shot through the heart." "Dead?" I repeated the word. Death seemed to have become a normal part of my life of late, and the mention of the word, after the dream I had just had, made my arms feel heavy. "Yes, and it would seem that Bob Allen blames Bird's Eye. Bird's Eye has always accused Ault for killing his son Jacob, so he has motive enough, and Ault was shot with a rifle; whoever shot him was a good shot indeed. Bird's Eye denies it all. The feuding is worse than ever. Bob has rage and revenge on his mind." "George!" I called. "He's here--he, David, and the federal marshal are putting away the horses." She removed her riding gloves. "And Neil?" Margaret asked. "Where's Neil?" "I don't know. No one has seen Dr. MacNeill or Mr. Scott all day." Miss Alice's attentions shifted toward Margaret. "Margaret, thee, I mean YOU do not look well." "Mother," Margaret said. She walked toward her mother and touched her cheek tenderly. "You do not have to change the way your talk just for me. I love you just the way you are. I don't want you to change anything." Alice smiled. Tears filled her eyes; I could see them reflect the moonlight. "In that case," she said with a big smile. "Let's get THEE in bed." ####################################################### Part XXVI I awoke to darkness. I sat up in bed sodden with perspiration. I must have been dreaming, but I could not remember my dream. The humidity made my room feel stagnate. I had no idea what time it was. I lit a candle with a match. My pocket watch revealed that it was a little after 4:00 A.M. I lay back down but could not sleep. When I opened my shudders, the moonlight brightened the room. I needed some air. I threw on a sundress and crept quietly down the stairs. Outside, a gentle wind flittered through the trees and cooled me. I sat under the gazebo for awhile, thinking about Ault Allen. Ault had been there my first day in Cutter Gap. I could still see his grizzled face and felt hat. He worried over Bob's surgery. And now, Bob would be the one to take Ault's place as head of the Allen clan. I wondered how Fairlight was taking the news. Oh Fairlight, I longed to see her. Unexpectedly, I heard something in the distance--the sound of leaves crunching and bushes rustling. I froze. My heart throbbed. I could feel it beating in my throat. Perhaps I had just imagined it. I forced myself to stand up. Then I saw George hobbling down the hill from the schoolhouse. He walked toward the mission. He had one crutch tucked under his arm. I sighed with relief. "George?" I said. "George, what are you doing out here?" "Christy? I couldn't sleep." His voice disclosed his mood, which sounded as forlorn as my own. He changed his course and walked toward me. "Me either," I said. We sat down together under the gazebo. Neither of us spoke. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind. After a long silence, George said, "I can not believe that Ault is dead. I know that we have not been here very long, Christy, but I really liked Ault." He paused; his eyes took on a distant look. He grinned slightly. "He taught me how to tie dozens of different knots. He tested me over which knot to use in any given situation-like fishing knots and slip knots." George looked back at me. "His great uncle was in the navy during the Civil War." "I didn't know that," I said and marveled at the secrets that men will reveal to other men. "And I thought that I had made a difference here. For the first time since the accident, I felt like my life could count for something---that living wasn’t meaningless. I thought that I was helping to stop the feuding. I am friends with all of them, Christy, the Taylors and the Allens. Bird's Eye even went fishing with the Allens and me the evening after we found you and Margaret. That is what I wanted to tell you the other night. Rev. Grantland could not believe that they were all fishing together; he said that I had worked a miracle, just like you." George sighed heavily. "And now look at them. Miss Alice said that the feuding is worse now than ever." "George, I know how you feel. But David is wrong; I have not worked any miracles here. Sometimes I feel like I have made no progress at all, but things move slowly here. You will see progress in time. These people can not be changed all at once." He said nothing. We sat without speaking for a long time. When I finally looked up at him, he was crying--not sobbing, just quiet tears. I watched him. I did not know what to say. "I hadn't remembered it until tonight," he said. "Remembered what Georgie?" "The train wreck. I dreamed about it tonight---I remember it now. I saw mother's face again. The expression that was on her face as it all happened. Christy, her face was full of horror---she was scared---she was so scared." It's the last thing I saw before I blacked out." He tucked his face in the crook of his arm and wiped his tears away with his sleeve. "Her face was the last thing that I saw." I felt my stomach drop. I put my arm around my brother and pulled him close to me. I can not even begin to know what that image was like for George---just the mention of it made me feel hollow. We sat there until the sun rose. Just when I noticed that the birds were singing, Lundy Taylor appeared from behind the mission house. He walked up to George and me with a haughty confidence that I had never seen Lundy have before. "Pa told me to tell ya that he don't want ya around no more if'n you be keeping company with them Allens." Lundy smiled. His words were slightly slurred; he must have been drinking. His right cheek bulged where he had a clod of tobacco packed tightly in his mouth. "Lundy, listen to me," George pleaded. He stood up with effort and without his crutch. "You don't have to fight--there has to be an explanation for all this. We can figure it out together. Listen to me." "I ain't keeping company with the likes of no Allen." Lundy spit tobacco juice at George's foot, then turned around, and disappeared behind the mission house where he had come from. I wondered if he had been there all night. ******** Ben Pentland came just after breakfast, which was uncommonly early for Ben. "Yooonited States Mail!" He called out in his familiar way. Miss Alice, Ruby Mae, David, Mr. MacNabb, George, and I crowded onto the porch to talk to him. We invited him inside for breakfast, but he declined the offer. "I ain't got but this one letter to deliver, and a message." He said. "The letter is addressed to—“ he read from the envelope slowly. “Mr. Floyd MacNabb, federal marshal.” Then he looked up at us. “It's from El Pano." "I'm Floyd MacNabb," Mr. MacNabb said in his gruff voice. He stepped forward and took the letter from Ben's hand. "Miss Alice, the message is for you." Ben said. "Dr. MacNeill asked me to tell you that he and Mr. Scott need your assistance in Raven Gap. He wanted you to bring the canvas bag that's hanging in his laboratory. But if Mrs. MacNeill and Miss Christy are not well, then you're to send Rev. Grantland with the bag." "What is it Mr. Pentland? What's happened in Raven Gap?" Miss Alice asked. "I can't rightly say, Ma'me," he said and scratched his head. "I asked Ol’ Doc that very same question, and he just said---tell Alice to come as soon as she can and bring my bag---them's his exact words." "Thank you Mr. Pentland. I will be on my way directly." "The word is that there's a fever going round up there." Ben added. "The Fraser family is took bad with it." "Alice, I'll go to MacNeill's and get the bag." David said. "You stay here and prepare your things and ready anything Christy and I will need to care for Margaret." Alice nodded, "Thank you David." She said. David ducked back into the mission through the front door and came back out with his hat in his hands. He wore a sober expression. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He said to all of us. He did not take the time to saddle Prince. I stood on the porch and watched him ride away; his lanky frame appeared even lankier riding bare back. *********** Alice was ready to leave by mid-morning. "Margaret does not seem to be running a fever this morning, but you send for me if she runs the slightest degree over 99.0. I left the morphine tablets in the supply cabinet. Giver her one with some water if her cough gets worse." She said to me before she mounted Goldie. “Take care of her for me Christy.” "You don’t have to worry Miss Alice. David and I will take good care of Margaret." I said. "But you be careful. We will be worried about you too and will remember you in our prayers." Miss Alice smiled and patted my cheek with her gloved hand. "I will return as soon as I can." She said and mounted her sorrel horse. David handed her the canvas bag that Dr. MacNeill had requested. She tied it to her saddle and then departed. Mr. MacNabb had prepared to leave as well. The letter that Ben Pentland had brought requested that he bring Paul's body in for identification. He and David spent the noon hour wrapping Paul's body in burlap and tying him to Jesse, one of the mission's mules. Mr. MacNabb would lead Jesse back to El Pano. "I will be back for questioning in the next few days," he said. "And David, I also want to investigate this moonshine operation further." "You can expect our full cooperation, Mr. MacNabb." David said. As we watched Mr. MacNabb leave; I thought about Fairlight. I had planned to go see her that afternoon; Ault's burial was scheduled for the next afternoon, and I knew that she needed me. I felt a strange sense of urgency to see her, however, I also felt so tired and drained from lack of sleep. As Mr. MacNabb disappeared into the trees, David turned his eyes to me. With his eyebrow cocked, he said, “Christy, you look tired. Maybe you should lie down for a little while.” “David, I planned on going over and check on Fairlight.” "Christy, you have no business traipsing over the mountain after all that you have been through this week. No, absolutely not." He said in a firm voice. He crossed his arms. “You did not heed Dr. MacNeill’s orders yesterday, but today you are going to follow mine.” “David, what has gotten into you? I am fine; really, I am. And I want to see Fairlight.” David’s angry features softened, and he dropped his arms to his side. "Well, if after a nap you look a little better, then we can go over to the Spencers for a while before dinner, but you are not going alone! Is that clear? I am going to go with you. Ruby Mae can sit with Margaret for a few hours. I don’t want you off alone; not with all that’s happened." David’s voice had hushed to almost a whisper, and he said the last sentence with such compassion and sincerity that I was touched by his concern for me. I yielded to his will. "Okay," I said. "You win, David," I said with a playful smile. "I will take a nap." Just as I had said this, however, Swannie, wandered into the yard followed by Mountie and Becky. "I'm here to do the laundry, Miss Christy." She said. "Oh, Swannie, I am glad you are here. I can show you where everything is." David held his hand up. "No,no no, you go and take a nap, Christy. I can show Swannie where everything is." "But David, who will watch the children, and---" "I will," he said. He had a funny grin on his face. "But David, I--" His face became stern. I smiled at him. "Okay, I'm going." I said. I leaned over and kissed the top of the Mountie's head and then turned and went inside the mission house. It was not as hot as the day before, and my room felt nice with the windows open. I fell asleep as soon as I laid down. But it was not a nap that I took at all, for I slept the rest of that afternoon and all through the night. I did not even wake for dinner. Another nightmare woke me at sunrise, leaving me disoriented. Of my dream, I could only recall that Fairlight was scared. She wore the same expression of horror on her face that I had envisioned mother having. I had no idea how long I had slept, but looking out the window, the dew and hazy golden light told me that it was morning. My dream was merely a mixture of the previous day’s events, I told myself. Still, somewhere deep inside me, I had an unquenchable anxiety. Something felt wrong. I could not explain it, but I needed to see Fairlight. I got dressed quickly, left a note for David on the table, and hurried off toward the Spencer cabin before anyone else had risen. ###################################################################### Part XXVII I found John Spencer collapsed and burning with fever beneath the big, ivy-covered sycamore tree at the edge of the Spencer land. He lay face down, and his left hand still gripped the handle of a toppled bucket, which he must have carried from the creek. "John!" I said. He did not wake even after I shook him. When I turned him over, blood gushed from his nose and seeped into the corners of his mouth. His eyes were closed and swollen. I had to get him to the cabin. I looked around franticly for someone or something to help me. There was nothing. Somehow, I found strength and managed to pull his limp body all the way to the porch steps. "Fairlight!" I shouted. "Fairlight help!" I was wringing with sweat and out of breath. The hot August sun had made even the morning sultry. Lulu Spencer poked her head through the cracked door. "Miss Christy!" She said. Her voice faltered; she was crying. "Momma's sick, Miss Christy, same as Zaddy and Clara. John was supposed to go fetch--" She looked down at my feet where John lay motionless. She opened the door further and ran down the steps to John. "John!" She tugged at her older brother's shirt; she cried hysterically. "I want Pa. Where's Pa, Miss Christy? He can make it all better. Where's Pa!" "Lulu." I grabbed her shoulders. "Lulu, listen to me. Do you think you can make it to the mission house by yourself?" She nodded. Her poor little eyes were red at the edges and rounded with fear. "Are you feeling well, Lulu? Are you sick too?" I asked her. She shook her head. I felt her forehead, which I found to be cool but tacky with perspiration. "Lulu, I want you to go and get Rev. Grantland. Tell him what's happened. Tell him it's an emergency. He will have to ride for Dr. MacNeill." I was thinking out loud. I shifted my attention back to Lulu. I hugged her. "It's going to be all right, Lulu. It's all going to be all right." I reassured her. She smiled gratefully. "Now hurry and tell Rev. Grantland." She took off running through the woods in the direction from which I had just come. When she had gone, I rushed up the steps of the cabin. The minute I opened the door, I almost fainted; the stench overpowered me--it smelled of urine and dank flesh. I walked into the darkness. When my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw Fairlight writhing in her bed. One of her beautiful quilts was wrapped around her. Zaddy and Clara lay on the floor sweating upon quilt pallets. Both girls were thin with an ashen pallor that left me speechless. The normally spotless cabin lay in disarray. Zaddy mumbled numbers and equations over and over with a droning voice. Her eyes were open but unfocused. I crept over to Fairlight's bed. She was almost unrecognizable. Her beautiful hair had fallen out in clumps. It was twined throughout the soiled bedclothes. Some lay upon the wood floor; her scalp was left bare in spots. Her cheekbones protruded above her sunken cheeks, and her lips were so severely cracked that they bled. Her skin was ashen and taut-she was dehydrated. How long had she been like this? I had just seen John two days before. I sat on the bed beside her and took her hand. "Fairlight? Fairlight, can you hear me?" I touched her burning forehead. Her eyes were closed, but she tossed her head from side to side. "Oh Fairlight, please, can't you hear me?" She did not answer. Distress took control of me; I had no idea what to do. Then I heard whimpering. I looked up and found Least'un in the corner. He hugged his knees and buried his face behind his legs. "Least'un." I said as gently as possible. I walked over to him and placed my hand on his grubby, bare feet. "It's Miss Christy, can you look at me?" He peered at me through his knees. "Are you sick?" I asked. He shook his head. "It's going to be all right, Least'un, but I need your help. Do you think you can help me?" He nodded again. "Good." I said so calmly that I shocked myself. "Now, I want you to go outside on the porch and rip this cloth into strips. Can you do that for me?" He nodded again. He stood up and hugged me tightly. His little arms were too small to reach all the way around me. "I'm afreared." He said in a meek voice. He held me as tight as he could and would not let go. "I know, baby. I know you are, but I'm here now." "I'm glad you're here, Miss Christy." He said. He hugged me tighter and then took the cloth from my hands, and stepped out onto the porch. As soon as Least'un went outside, I became manic. I flew about in some kind of desperate mania. I opened all the windows to let air circulate through the cabin. I ran outside and pulled John up the steps and into the cabin. I scrambled down to the creek and filled the bucket with water and carried it back up the steps with water sloshing over the sides. As I sat beside Fairlight, I dipped one of Least'un's rags into the bucket and then squeezed the cool creek water into Fairlight's mouth and over her face. A strange, grey fuzz covered her tongue; and along the sides, her tongue had cracked, creating two, long fissures. What was wrong with them? Pneumonia? Her breathing sounded raspy. "Oh please God, help me!" I said aloud without realizing it. I gave Zaddy and Clara water in the same manner. My own dry throat ached from exertion. It was so hot in the cabin that I could barely breathe. I squeezed water over the top of my head and let it run over my face. The water's coolness seemed to calm my anxiety. It was all going to be okay, I told myself. I drank two full dippers of water before I continued with my tasks. I changed everyone's clothing and bedclothes. I knew that I had to get their fever down, and I remembered Dan Scott's dipping Creed Allen in the river during the scarlet fever epidemic, so I began to bath them with rags soaked in creek water. When David appeared in the doorway, I broke down. Tears of exhaustion and hopefulness filled my eyes. I was so glad to see him. "Oh, David, thank goodness you are here. You have to get Dr. MacNeill. You have to go and get Dr. MacNeill now!" "Christy! Oh, my God!" David said. He remained standing in the doorway looking about the room---he was dumbfounded, as I had been. "David, oh David, I know. You have to go now and get Dr. MacNeill! Please, David!" My plea must have brought him back to reality, for he stopped inspecting the room and turned his eyes to me. "But Christy," he said. "I can't leave you here alone. I should stay until--" "You have to go now, David, hurry!" I said. He came inside and took his hat off and stood over Fairlight. Then he looked at me again. His jaw clenched, and his eyes filled with worry. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He said and leaned forward. He scooped my chin in his hand and lifted my face to his. "I will send anyone I find along the way to help you. Ruby Mae is staying with Margaret, and George went to get Swannie and Opal. He is bringing blankets and the medical kit. Are you sure you don't want me to wait until he gets here." I nodded. "Yes I'm sure, David. Please hurry." I said. And as he started to turn, I caught his arm, "David, be careful!" He placed his hat back upon his head, nodded at me, and then disappeared through the doorway. I listened intently to the desolate sound of Prince's hoof beats as David galloped away, leaving me alone again. ******** It seemed like hours had passed, and still George had not come. I made two additional trips to the creek and Least'un became my shadow. He helped bathe his sisters; he mumbled softly to them. But there was just too much for me and Least'un to do by ourselves. The rags only remained cool for a few minutes before their fevered bodies heated them again. Zaddy shivered all over; her breathing was labored, and she coughed and coughed; Clara lay deathly still, and John's nose began to bleed again. "Miss Christy," he said. "I gotta get Miss Christy." He said. "I'm here, John, I'm right here." I said as I attempted to stop the bleeding from his nose. But it was no use; he squirmed and waved his hands about. Then, I heard Fairlight's voice. I jumped to my feet and scuttled over to her. "Fairlight, can you hear me?" I said, stroking her face with my fingertips. "Christy?" She said weakly. Her eyes were open, but they were staring ahead, unfocused. "Get the children off of me. I can't breathe---their crushing me, Christy. Get them off, tell them to go out and play till supper is ready." "Fairlight, the children are in bed. There's nothing crushing you." "No, no, they're crushing me. I can't breathe." I placed a freshly dipped rag on her forehead. She closed her eyes. "It's going to take me away, Christy! I'm scarred. I don't want it to take my babies. Don't let it take my babies!" "No, no, Fairlight. It's not. You're going to be fine. You'll see. Dr, MacNeill is on his way right now. You're all going to be fine." I held her in my arms. Her skin felt hot like the fur of a cat that had sat too long by a roaring fire. "No, I don't want to die Christy, but my babies." She said no more but lay feebly in my arms. "Christy," George said. He stood beside me and touched my arm lightly. "Swannie is with Opal. She's sick too." He said. I had not even noticed that George had come inside the cabin. I looked at him. His bright blue eyes seemed strange in such gruesome surroundings. Lulu stepped in the doorway. She carried a bundle of blankets in her arms. Upon seeing her mother, she dropped the blankets, ran to her mother's side, and pressed her face against Fairlight's arm. "Swannie told me to make onion poultices." George said. "I have the onions outside. And she gave me this tea to brew." He pulled a cloth pouch from his pocket. "She said it will help with the fever." He handed it to me. George and I set to work making the onion poultices, while Lulu and Least'un kept replacing the cool rags with freshly dipped ones. We worked and worked-chopping onions, carrying fresh buckets of water up the steps and into the cabin, bathing, brewing tea, changing the bedclothes. Time merged together like images in a kaleidoscope. As the sun began to sink below the mountains, Fairlight sat up in her bed. "It's come for me, Christy. Don't let it take my babies. Take me, please don't take my babies!" She looked intently in front of her as if she were talking to someone. "Christy, don't let it take them." I held her tight. "Fairlight, what are you talking about? No one's going to take you." "The shadow, don't you see it. It's there---right there." She pointed out the door toward the mountain. The darkness is coming for me. You have to promise to take care of my babies, Christy. You have to promise!" "Stop talking like that, Fairlight. Nothing is going to take you. I won't let it." "Promise me Christy, promise me." "I promise, Fairlight. I promise, I'll take care of your children if anything were to happen to you. I would die before I let anything happen to them; you know that. You have my word." She relaxed a little after I said this. For the first time that day, in the drifting twilight, she looked at me. Her beautiful highland eyes focused on me, piercing right through my soul, and she said, "You are the best friend I have ever had, Christy." She smiled. Her dimples deepened. "I'll miss you. I will love you always. Please make Jeb understand. Tell him I love him. Tell him I'm sorry." Then the sun disappeared, and Farilight died in my arms. The darkness had taken her just as she had said it would. I pulled her to me. I held her tight and sobbed. Lulu and Least'un climbed upon the bed with me and nestled close. I do not know how long we stayed like that. I had no concept of time. I knew nothing except that I had lost my best friend and the children had lost their mother. ****** "She's gone Christy," I heard a soft voice say. "There's nothing we can do now. You have to let her go." "No!" I shouted. "No, she's not!" I pulled Fairlight's body closer. I remembered Creed Allen, and how Fairlight's faith brought him back to us. I was not going to give up on her. "God wouldn't let her die!" I said. Gentle hands pulled me away. When I looked up, I found Dr. MacNeill's haggard and melancholy face in the lamp light. His clothes were disheveled, and his chin was rough and unshaven. "It's typhoid, Christy. She's gone." His eyes glistened with a mixture of compassion and sadness. He pulled me to my feet and held me in his arms. "Oh Christy, I'm so sorry, lass, I'm so sorry." I cried bitterly. "Shhhhhh, Christy, please don't cry. You're a brave lass, and you did everything you could for Fairlight." He said. "We have to think of her children now. She'd want it that way. She loved her children so much." Dr. MacNeill choked on his own words. She had been his friend too. Still enfolded in his protective arms, I looked to the ceiling, searching for something, anything---an answer. And through my tears, I saw Fairlight's starry lookout, but there was no moonlight, no stars. She was gone--- my Fairlight was gone. ###################################################################### Part XXVIII I had not been prepared for the ravages of typhoid fever. Its truculent grip closed all around us. When I arrived back at the mission house on the same night that I had lost Fairlight, I found that two other families had been struck---the Beck's and the Holt's. Miss Alice had bedded the sick members of the family in the schoolhouse upon pallets of quilts and linens. As I walked up the schoolhouse steps, I saw her through the open door; she stood stooped over Rebecca Holt gently applying a cool cloth to her brow and talking softly to her. As I stepped through the door, her eyes met mine. They seemed to embrace me with sympathy, yet she never interrupted the care she was giving Rebecca. When Rebecca nodded and closed her eyes, Miss Alice walked across the room to me. She said nothing only pulled me into her arms and held me tight. "Neil told me," she said. "She is with God now, Christy, and in our hearts." Her words made me sob. "Why did God take her, Miss Alice." I blurted out through tears. "She didn't want to die; she had children. I can't understand why." I could feel the anger rise in my voice. "Christy, no one knows God's plan. We can not see the whole picture. We must simply have faith." ***** We all worked hard to turn the schoolhouse into a makeshift hospital, as we had done during the scarlet fever outbreak. Swannie and I moved all the desks out and brought in every blanket that we could find. George and Ruby Mae helped Miss Alice care for the sick. David and Dr. MacNeill managed to move the Spencer children, Opal and Isaack into the schoolhouse before dawn. Because Tom was out of town with Jeb, Toot, Vincent, and Iris stayed with Mary and Bob Allen. David and Dr. MacNeill laid Fairlight's body in David's bunkhouse so that Miss Alice and I could prepare her for burial. I watched them cover her with one of her quilts: It was her newest quilt; she had made it with snippets of Jeb and the children's clothing. I ran my fingers over it lightly. David lifted my hand from the quilt and squeezed it. "Bob Allen is making a casket for her." David told me in a worried, fluttering voice. "He said that it would be the prettiest one that Cutter Gap has ever seen. He said that he would not sleep until it was finished." When I heard the word "casket" I felt heat settle on my face and shins. How could God let this happen? How could he have taken Fairlight away from her children, how could he have taken my parents away from me and George, and how could he have so cruelly taken my brother's leg. The more that I thought about it the more enraged I became. "Christy, are you okay?" David asked. His kind eyes studied me curiously. "Maybe you should go upstaris and lie down. Since the children are asleep in your bed, you can lie down in Miss Alice's room. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." "No David, I'm fine." I told him. We worked on into the misty morning. Deep blue-grey clouds hovered over us, and, by mid morning, rain fell in large pelting drops. It was then that Dr. MacNeill called us all into the mission parlor for a meeting. I sat on the davenport between David and George. It was the first time I had sat down to rest since the previous morning. My muscles ached, and all I could think about was the promise that I had made to Fairlight. I could hear her voice so clearly. "Promise me you'll take care of my babies. Don't let it take my babies." She had said. "Round the clock nursing is the most important thing with typhoid; we can set up shifts so that no one goes without rest. I want everyone to take all precautions. You must wash thoroughly with lie soap and alcohol after working with the patients. Your skin, your hair, your clothes, everything must be washed each time; is that understood?" Dr. MacNeill's voice was gruffly serious. He scanned the room looking firmly at everyone, and then his heavy stare fell upon me. He did not remove his reddened eyes from me until I nodded; then he continued. "Under no circumstances can a patients have anything solid to eat---liquids only. We must give them plenty of liquids to prevent dehydration. All human waste must be disposed of carefully." He stopped his speech and considered for a moment. "David, you and I will be in charge of that." David nodded. Dr. MacNeill sighed deeply. His haggard expression revealed how tired he really was. For a time, no one spoke, and I could hear the rain dancing on the rooftop. As a girl, I would have loved to slosh through the rain puddles in my rubber boots, to feel the cooling, welcome, summer rain on my skin and hair, but sitting there in that parlor talking about typhoid, I knew that I was no longer a little girl. "Alice and I will take the first shift." Dr. MacNeill said. "I want the rest of you to wash up and get some sleep," Dr. MacNeill looked at me. "Lots of sleep." Everyone stood up wearily and dispersed, but I remained on the davenport. I felt too heavy to stand. I watched George and Ruby Mae ascend the stairs. I turned my gaze to the window and watched the rain drip from the roof. My mind wandered. I thought about Fairlight's dimples and her glassy blue eyes. I thought about mother's perfume and Daddy's kind grin. I thought about God. He had taken it all away from me, but why? I had pushed this question from my mind after Mother and Daddy died. I had to think about George, about finances, and then about Cutter Gap. But now that Fairlight was gone, the question came again. It swirled around me like a whirlpool sucking me down and down beneath its surface. I sat hypnotized by the rain. Listening to its melancholy pitter-patter. "Christy? Christy?" Dr. MacNeill said and shook me from my trance. I looked at him. He sat down on the coffee table in front of me. His brow furrowed into deep, sweeping lines. He studied me quietly, in that way of his. "Are you all right?" "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" I said. "I don't know. I don't know how I feel." He looked at me sadly and nodded. "I know you don't. I'm sorry, lass. I was just worried about you. I wish that I could take it all away." He paused for a long time. "Can I take a look at your hand." He asked softly. Without a word, I held out my hand to him. He removed the grimy bandages. "It seems to be healing despite this filthy bandage, and how about your ribs? Are they still sore?" He looked at me with concern. "I think they're okay. To tell you the truth, I haven't really noticed them." I said slowly with little or no emotion. My voice sounded strange and flat, even to my own ears. He looked puzzled. His eyes probed and observed. "You still have them wrapped?" I nodded. "Christy," He said gently; my injured hand still rested in his palm. "I want you and George to pack your things. I am going to take the two of you down to the train at El Pano this afternoon. I want you both in Asheville until the danger passes." I was stunned. I had not expected this at all. "No!" I said using all the energy I had. "No! I can't leave. I promised Fairlight that I would look after her children, and that is exactly what I am going to do!" "Christy, please listen to me. I'm really worried. You've been through so much. You have not been sleeping or eating well; you've run yourself ragged. I heard from a reliable source that you did not even stay in bed the other day as I had asked you to." He looked at me scoldingly. "I was worried about you before all of this; and now, with the typhoid and---" he paused and took a breath. " I don't want you running the risk of getting sick. Everything inside me tells me to put you and George on the afternoon train and that is exactly what I am going to do." "I won't leave!" I said and crossed my arms. All the rage I felt steeped within me. I could feel my ears burning. "Christy, it isn't safe here for you. I do not think it is wise for you to stay here. I AM going to put you and George on the afternoon train. You ARE going home to Asheville, and that is not a request." Dr. MacNeill said. His Scottish accent grew crisper with his frustration. He treated me like a child--he and David both. At that moment, I could not bear it. I stood up and exploded. "Even if you hog tie, gag me and put me on the train yourself, Dr. MacNeill, you know I will just get off at the next stop and come right back here." "You are the most stubborn, obstinate, headstrong woman I have ever known!" He stood up. "Even Alice Henderson is agreeable compared to you--at least SHE will listen to reason!" The veins in his forehead were visible. His rage flashed in his eyes. "You are like no one I have ever known; you are like---" "She's just like YOU, Mac!" Margaret said from the stairs. I looked up to find her standing mid stairs, bare foot, but fully dressed in a pale blue dress. She smiled at me and then came down to the bottom of the stairs. "She's just like you." She repeated less forcefully. "Margaret, you should not be out of bed, you've had fever all morning. You need to rest. You have to get back in bed." Just then Jeb Spencer burst through the front door. "Where's my family!" He said. Rain water dripped over the brim of his felt hat. "Fairlight where are you!" He called and looked around the room for the wife he would never find. I waded around the furniture until I stood in front of him. "Miss Christy, what's going on." He took off his hat. "Tom and I came home early this morning and everything was in shambles. Where's Fairlight." He looked around me as if I were hiding her from him. "Jeb, listen to me, Fairlight, well she's, she's--" Dr. MacNeill wrapped his warm hands around my shoulders and eased me out of the doorway. "Jeb," Neil said. He started slowly and softly. "Fairlight is dead. She died last night." He paused. "It was typhoid, evidently she had had it for several days, there was nothing we could do." Neil put a strong arm around Jeb and pulled him inside the house. He sat Jeb down on the davenport where I had been sitting and then sat on the coffee table in front of him. "Dead?" Jeb said. "No she couldn't possibly be. You have to be joking." He looked up at Dr. MacNeill pleadingly, but Neil's face remained stone cold and serious. Then Jeb looked at me with hope on his face, but I could not control the tears that spilled from my eyes, and his hopeful expression melted. His head sunk, and he looked at the wooden floor. "Where is she?" He asked. "She's in Rev. Grantland's bunk house." Neil said. "And the children?" He did not look up from the floor. "Lulu and Least'un are asleep in Miss Huddleston's room, but John, Zaddy, and Clara are all sick, Jeb. They are out in the schoolhouse with Alice." "Oh God no. No, it can't be." He sat silently for a few minutes, trying to control his emotions; then he said. "I want to see her." Neil led Jeb outside to David's bunkhouse; I followed close behind them. I watched as Jeb pulled back the quilt and looked at his lifeless wife. He fell on his knees and weep like a child--his face buried in her beautiful quilt. Neil and I stood quietly watching him. Finally, Neil helped the bereaved man to his feet. Jeb's face was red and snarled with grief. He looked at me with piercing eyes. "Why?" he asked. "Why Fairlight?" He raised his eyes skyward. "WHY!" Then he brought his eyes back to me. "You were her best friend. Why didn't you check on her? Why weren't you there for her? She would have been there for you--- I know she would have." His words tore my heart to pieces I couldn't take it. I had to get out. I had to be away from it all. I walked out the door and through the rain into the woods. I had to get away--- away from Jeb's words. "Christy!" I heard Neil call after me. "Christy! Wait." But then I ran, I couldn't look at Neil. I couldn't face him. I kept running. I couldn't bear to see anyone, so I just ran. But no matter how fast I went, I could not out-run Jeb's words. It was still raining when I made it to Fairlight's special place. I sat on the rock where she and I had sat so many times, talking about our problems and laughing over silly things. I looked out over the mountains, wishing that it were all a dream--some nightmare that would go away, but Jeb's words and the rain were real. I heard Jeb over and over. "Why weren't you there for her?" Somehow, I knew he was right. All the anger I had felt toward God was really the anger I had for myself. Why hadn't I gone to see Fairlight earlier? It WAS my fault. Then Miss Alice's voice filled my ears. The words she had shared with me so long ago came to me, and I remembered them as if she had said them to me only the day before. "The answer isn't easy." She had said. "I doubt with the limitations of our humanness we can fully understand. But in that particular case, I think that the little girl was raped because the person appointed to reach her in time to prevent the murder refused to hear--or to obey. God's clear order went unheeded. And evil had it's day. The result of our disobedience can be that simple, that terrible." (Chapter 7 pg 94 of CM's Christy). I had been called to go to Fairlight, but I fell asleep. I did not go to her till the next morning when it was too late. She had needed me, and I had not been there. God's call had gone unheeded. I stood on my weary legs, stretched my arms out to my side, and let the rain pour down upon me. "Oh God, please forgive me!" I shouted. "Oh Fairlight, forgive me!' My tears mixed with the rain that drifted down my cheeks. ################################### #################################### Part XXIX I stood in the rain with my arms outstretched until the backs of my legs ached, then I sat down upon the rocks and hugged my knees. Dark clouds shrouded the mountains. The strange, cloud-filtered light made the leaves and grass all around appear artificially vibrant. A gentle, warm hand lightly brushed over my arm. I turned around to find Margaret standing behind me. She still wore her blue dress; though, because it was wet with rain, it had darkened. I had not even heard her stumble up the rocks to find me. Her eyes were a mild, mossy green, a contrast to the emerald vibrancy all around, and much more comforting. She sat down beside me, took me in her arms and hugged me. I closed my eyes and listened for the familiar sounds of birds, but I did not hear their music; instead, I heard only the occasional grumble of thunder and the soft dusting of drizzle upon the leaves. Margaret finally broke the silence with a temperate voice that seemed in harmony with our airy environment. "The loss of a best friend--a sister--" She stopped with a sigh. I pulled away from her. "Christy, I had forgotten how important that kind of love was until I met you. I had forgotten how much strength and stability it gave me, and now I do not even want to think about losing it. I am so sorry that you have lost Fairlight." She had tears in her eyes. She watched me for a few moments, then began again. "Caroline Jacobs was my best friend. Typhoid took her away too, just like Fairlight. I wasn't allowed to see her when she was sick. I was 13 years old. We were like sisters. She loved me for who I was and not what she wanted me to be or what she could use me for. She was the only girl that I could tell my deepest secrets and fears to. That is until I met you." She smiled sadly at me. "I know the pain you are feeling." I watched her closely; she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket; it was tied into a little bundle with a pink, satin ribbon. I looked up at her--the misting rain had matted her hair close to her face. She untied the ribbon and opened the handkerchief: inside were two silver rings. "These were Caroline's and mine, well sort of. You see Grandfather used to pay me in the summer for helping do chores, and he would give me money during the year for good grades in school. I had never spent any of that money, but I wanted to get something special for Caroline's 13th birthday." Margaret touched the rings tenderly. "They are claddagh rings." She said and picked up one of the rings and showed it to me. "See the hands there?" She pointed to the two tiny hands on the ring. I nodded. "The hands symbolize friendship, the crown symbolizes loyalty, and the heart symbolizes love." Margaret smiled. "A little old Irish woman owned the jewelry shop where I bought them; she explained what each thing meant. I thought that it described Caroline and my friendship completely. I bought the rings the week before Caroline got sick---a month before her birthday. She died before I ever had the chance to give it to her." Margaret paused again. She had tears in her eyes, and when she looked up at me, one tear trickled down her cheek and fell upon the handkerchief that she held in her hand. "She died on August 14---she'd only been sick a week. She was a pretty little girl. She had chubby, round cheeks that were always pink. She loved to draw and paint--she would have been an artist when she grew up. I know she would have" Margaret smiled at me. "I kept theses rings all these years. I couldn't part with them. They symbolized the friendship that I had lost, but now I want them to symbolize the friendship I have gained--with you Christy." She smiled broadly. "I want you to have this." She pressed one of the rings into the palm of my hand. "I want you to know that were ever you are, no matter how sad you get, I am there for you. I will always be your friend. I promise." Her words rendered me speechless. Tears pooled in my eyes. I put the ring on. It slid right passed my knuckle and just fit my ring finger on my right hand; it was as if it had been made for me. Margaret laughed. "You have small hands; I was afraid that we were going to have to get it sized." She put her ring on also and looked at it. "See, mine only fits my pinky now." She said and then looked up at me. "Christy, I hope you don't think that I am trying to take Fairlight's place. I would never try to do that. You and Fairlight had something special; I know that. No one can fill her spot in your heart. It is the same with Caroline and me. But your friendship is as dear to me as Caroline's was." I smiled and held out my hand to admire the ring. "I shall wear it always, Margaret. Thank you---it means so much, but the best gift of all is the gift of your friendship. Thank you for being here for me. You ARE my friend." I hugged her. "But how did you know where to find me?" "I used to come here when I was sad. I found it accidentally when I first came to Cutter Gap. This is where I wrote poetry when Mac was gone for weeks. I used to come here even in the coldest part of the winter. I would stay as long as I could bear the freezing wind. I would stay until my hands were so cold that I could no longer grip a pencil. I felt free and at peace up here. It was nice to get away from that lonely cabin." She swallowed. "I hadn't visited this spot since I ran away from Cutter Gap, but last spring I hiked up here--- in May. I accidentally stumbled on you and Fairlight. You two were talking, and I crept away as soon as I realized that you were here. Somehow, I knew this is where you would be today. It is where I would have come." We both looked out over the mountains. The rolling clouds moved towards us. "Funny how it always seems to rain when someone dies." I said. "I think it is God's way of telling us He is sorry." I said. "I don't believe in God!" She said. I looked at her face. I wanted to know if she were serious in her statement or if she just said it to shock me. She said so many things that she did not really mean; I had seen her do it with Neil and Miss Alice. But this time, I found her face hard and serious---the image took me aback. "How can you say that Margaret?" I asked. "Don't you believe that we will see Fairlight and Caroline again. That I will see my mother and father and sister again?" "I wish that I could say yes, Christy. For you, I wish I could say that there was a heaven with angles and clouds, but I can't. I wish more than anything in the world that I could tell you honestly that there is a God, but I can't. I won't be anything but honest with you. Friends should be honest. No, I do not think we will ever see them again." She said. I felt hot tears fill my eyes again. "But Margaret, how can you not believe in God. His wonder and beauty is all around us." "If God really did exist, why would he inflict so much pain on the world, on people and animals. Why would He take people away from me that I loved, why would He allow the things to happen to me that He did? No Christy, God does not exist. How could He?" "I do not understand why bad things happen, Margaret. Your mother says that we are just human and can not see the whole picture. But Margaret, God does exist." I looked at her, but her expression remained unchanged. "I have never been good at explaining how I know. Neil cuts holes through my beliefs every time, but it isn't something that I can really explain. It is just something deep down that I feel." I took her hand. "You have to feel it. When you came up here to find peace, to get away from the lonely cabin--why didn't you feel just as alone up here? Why did you feel more alive up here." "I don't know--I guess because it is so beautiful." "I think it was because you felt God here. You felt his love without even knowing it, Margaret. He comforted you here. And he would comfort you everywhere if you would only let him." "I still do not believe, Christy. I can't believe." "Can't you feel Him right now. He is here right now." I watched her, but her countenance remained hard. "How can you go on living without believing in God? What would be the point of life? I couldn't go on living if I didn't have God's love. I just couldn't. God does exist, Margaret. He is real." "I do want to believe that. But it isn't what we want that matters, Christy. Just because we want God to exist, doesn't mean that He does!" She said. I was about to speak when she started to cough uncontrollably. Her cough sounded worse--blood covered her hand. "Oh Margaret, how could I be so selfish, you shouldn't be out here, not in this rain." I stood up. "We have to get you back to the mission house. I am sorry that I kept you out here as long as I did. I don't know what I was thinking." I helped her to her feet, and she leaned on me weakly. "Can you walk?" She nodded and we stumbled over the rocks together. I wondered how she ever managed to make it up the mountain by herself. We plodded down the mountain laboriously. Thankfully, the trees blocked the rain somewhat. I supported Margaret most of the way. When we stood in the meadow in front of the mission house, she stopped walking. "Christy, I'm aching all over--it's my joints. I can't walk any more." "It isn't much farther now, Margaret--I can see the house from here." I said. "I'll try," she said. We walked on a little more. "Oh God Christy, it really hurts. It hurts." She rubbed her shoulders and neck. I didn't know what to do. "Help!" I yelled, hoping someone would hear me, but I couldn't see anyone coming. "We're almost there Margaret. Can you make it just a little further." She nodded, and we continued. Every step was painful for her. When we finally reached the mission, she was moaning. She sat on the ground just in front of the steps of the porch and cried with the pain. "Dr. MacNeill! Miss Alice! Help." I called. Neil came running from the schoolhouse. Miss Alice followed close behind him. "What happened?" Neil asked as he scooped Margaret into his arms and carried her inside. Miss Alice and I followed him up the stairs. "She came looking for me," I said. "As we were walking back, she said her joints were aching all over." "Help me Neil---Oh, it hurts so much." He laid her in bed gently. "Margaret. It's going to be okay, honey. It's going to be all right." Dr. MacNeill fumbled like a mad man through the medicine bottles on her nightstand. He picked up a clear bottle containing a rust-colored liquid, and then he filled his syringe, squirted some of it out the tip of the needle, and then gave Margaret a shot. After several minutes, she was asleep. "Alice, we must get her in some dry clothes." He said. As Alice searched for her night gown, Neil prepared another syringe. I watch him administer it. "Strychnine," he told me. "Doctor's in Philadelphia are having some luck with it for tuberculosis." "Is she going to be okay?" I asked. Neil looked at me very seriously. "I don't know." He said. I stood beside her bed shivering with fear. A fear that arrested everything. I could not face another death. No, I could not face the loss of another friend. I couldn't. I looked down at her hand--at the silver ring that she wore. I could not stop shivering. "Oh God, why are you doing this to me? Why have you cursed me? Please don't take Margaret too." "Christy, God has not cursed thee." Miss Alice said. I had not realized I had spoken my prayer aloud. I looked at her with confusion. "God loves thee always." She said. ###################################################################### Part XXX Margaret seemed to be doing better the day of Fairlight and Ault's funeral; she sat up and ate some toast that morning. But Dr. MacNeill did not want her out of bed. "Tuberculosis can have many complications; the pain in her joints is just one of them. She is not aloud out of that bed under any circumstances, we can not risk any further complications." He had spoken so firmly that I felt a shudder slide down my back. I looked at Miss Alice whose face held an expression of strength. True to his word, Bob had made beautiful, hand-carved caskets for his sister and brother. The two caskets lay side by side upon the grass at Persimmon Hill cemetery. The rain had finally stopped early that morning and there was nothing left but sloppy mud and wet grass. John, Clara, Zaddy, Opal, and Isaak were still too ill to attend the service, but Jeb had a tight grip on the shoulders of Lulu and Leest'un. Dr. MacNeill and Miss Alice had stayed behind at the schoolhouse to care for the sick, but everyone who was well enough had gathered at the cemetery, everyone accept the Taylors and their relations, for even in such tragic and frightening times, the feud continued. George stood beside me with one arm around me and the other tucked securely on his crutch. He had gone to talk to the Taylors the previous day to try to put an end to the feud, but Bird's Eye told him that it was no use. The feud would never end. He told George that he would have to choose between the Taylors and the Allens-- he could not be a friend to both. I knew this broke George's heart, because for some odd reason, he found a friend in Bird's Eye Taylor. But George did not show his feelings; perhaps he did not want to burden me with his own disappointments. An extreme feeling of love for my brother filled my heart. David recited psalm 23 with very little vigor in his voice. I knew that he too was deeply saddened by the loss of Fairlight. His cheeks were flushed, and I saw tears in his eyes. When he had finished, he bowed his head and Aunt Hattie sang, "The Mockingbird Song," which Fairlight used to sing to her children when they were upset. "Hush little baby don't say a word, Mama's gunna buy you a mocking bird and if that mocking bird don't sing….." I watched Leest'un rub his tired eyes and then press his face against his daddy's shirt. Lulu whimpered softly, but it was Jeb's trembling chin that broke my heart. As Aunt Hattie sang, Bob and Tom lowered the two caskets into the graves with ropes. Ruby Mae stood between Rob Allen and Creed. I could hear her sniffling and saw that her nose was red. She held Rob's hand. I had managed not to cry until Aunt Hattie began "Amazing Grace" and I heard the thud-thud of the soil as it fell upon the wooden caskets. Bob had to stop shoveling occasionally to wipe the silent tears that fell from his eyes. Jeb never moved. He stood motionless until Bob and Tom had finished burying his beloved wife. When it was all over, Jeb walked over, hugged me, and said. "I'm sorry Miss Christy. I didn't mean what I said to you the other day. It wasn't your fault. I wish I hadn't hurt you like that. Fairlight treasured you so. You learned her how to read, that was what she prized most in this world next to our youn'uns." A lump formed in the back of my throat when I heard his words. I remembered our reading lessons. Fairlight had learned so fast; I closed my eyes and could see her face light up just the way it always did when she learned a new word. I took Jeb's hand, leaned close to him, and whispered with my breaking voice. "But she treasured you most of all, Jeb. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she was sorry." This was all that Jeb could take. He hugged me again and sobbed in my arms like a little boy. "I miss her so much." He said. "How can I go on without her?" Bob Allen came and took Jeb by the shoulders and led him toward the Mission house. "Come on," he said. "Let's go check on your young'uns." I watched them walk away and then looked back at the two mounds of brown soil under which lay my lost friend. "Christy," George said. "I am so sorry. I know how much she meant to you." I smiled softly at my brother. His crystal blue eyes were like cloudless summer skies. "Christy." David said. He held Prince by the reins and approached us. "I'll ride you back to the mission." David looked at me with such an expression of kindness that I could not help the emotion that rose again in my throat. "Thank you, David." I said. "I can take Ruby Mae back unless she wants to stay awhile with Rob Allen," George said. "That would be nice of you, George," I said. David helped me on the horse, but not with his usual strength, and when I looked down at him, his eyes seemed droopy. "David! Are you okay?" "Oh, yes, I'm just tired, and my stomach has been a little upset. No doubt from having to carry those waste buckets." He smiled and then swung his leg up and over the saddle. He sat down in front of me and clucked at Prince to go. We rode back in silence. George stayed behind to talk to Ruby Mae and the Allen boys. The sun peeked out from the clouds. David's back was so hot that I started to perspire. When we got to the mission house, he slid from Prince's back, but before he helped me down, he said, "Christy, is there anything I can do for you? I really want to do something for you. If you need to talk--- about Fairlight or about God-- I am here. You know I am always here for you." "Thank you David. I appreciate your offer. Maybe tonight we can have a talk." "I'd like that," he said with a smile. Then he helped me down. He took care not to reinjure my ribs, but helping me down seemed to take all of his strength. He leaned on Prince, gripping the horse's long, black mane. "David?" I felt his forehead and found that he was burning with fever. "Oh David, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me that you were unwell?" But there was no time for talking. I held him close and supported his weight the best that I could until we were up the steps and into the schoolhouse. "Dr. MacNeill, Miss Alice! It's David." Before I could finish speaking, Dr. MacNeill had hold of David. Neil carried the preacher across the room, lay him gently down on an empty pallet of quilts, and began examining him. "I'm sorry Doc," David said in an airy voice. "Don't talk now Grantland." Neil said without stopping his examination. "I'm afraid you are going to have to bear disposing of the waste buckets on your own." David continued. "I'll do anything to get out of that duty." David laughed weakly and then coughed with his eyes closed. "Easy, Grantland." Dr. MacNeill said soothingly. "You're going to be fine now." Then Dr. MacNeill turned a very serious face to me. "Christy, get me a cloth and the alcohol please." I had gathered the articles that he requested in an instant, and Dr. MacNeill had ripped open David's shirt, poured the alcohol onto the cloth, and began rubbing the preacher down with it. I shivered. Miss Alice was at the doctor's side in an instant. She helped roll David over so that Dr. MacNeill could rub the alcohol over the preacher's back. Miss Alice fanned the Minster to cool the fever even more. "Our Father, who art in heaven--" I said aloud. "Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen." I could not suppress my anxiety, but I told myself that because David and the others were so sick, I could not afford the luxury of being upset. David's skin had grown ashen and his tongue was bright red. Without thinking, I rushed out of the schoolhouse door and down the hill to David's bunkhouse. I rummaged through his things, in a frenzy, looking for a telephone number for Ida in California. She had to know. His mother had to know. When I turned around, I almost tripped over Miss Alice. I had not known that she stood behind me. It gave my already racing heart a jolt. "Christy, would thee accompany me on a walk. I think it would do us both good to get some air." She smiled kindly at me, and I nodded. I followed her outside, and we walked to the gazebo and sat down. It was now late afternoon. A soft breeze fluttered through my hair and wiggled the leaves and grass. The clouds had cleared away, leaving behind the autumn-orange sun, which hunkered above the mountaintops. Miss Alice had tied her hair neatly in a modest blue scarf, and she wore a matching apron over her clothes. "Christy, thee are lost right now. I can see it in thine eyes, but God has not abandoned thee. Now is the time when thee must hold onto thy faith tighter than ever before. Clutch it close to thee and God will show thee the way." She pat my hand and for the first time she noticed the little silver claddagh ring on my finger. She looked up at me with surprise. "Where did you get this ring?" She asked. "Margaret gave it to me the day she found me on the mountain." Miss Alice picked up my hand and examined the ring closer. The tears in her eyes conveyed that she knew the ring's meaning and history. When she brought her eyes up to meet mine the tears spilled down her cheeks. "Christy Huddeston, God has given thee such a gift--an amazing gift that I did not see before Margaret came back here. Thee touches and eases the souls of those who have suffered the worst kinds of pain. I caught glimpses of it with Neil, but I am afraid that my own ignorance and suffering clouded my vision. Thee has even helped me. I believe it is thy willingness to love and find good in those who can not find it in themselves." She sniffed and mopped her tears with a handkerchief. I did not know what to say; this was the compliment of my life. I smiled at Miss Alice. Her brown eyes were warm and tender. "Thee is a wonder." She said. I giggled and said, trying to imitate her strange Quaker speech. "Thee must take me down from thy pedestal, Miss Alice." We laughed together at the irony, and then she drew me to her for a hug. "Hold on to joy." I said. "That's right, Christy. That's right." She pulled away to look at me. A sweet smiled blessed her lips but she quickly concealed it with her finger. After a few minutes of silence she said. "Things are going to be all right, Christy, because no matter what, God loves thee." She took her Bible from the pocket of her apron. I have marked something for thee to read. She handed me the Bible, patted my shoulder, and then left me alone. I opened the Great Book to the place that Miss Alice had marked, and in the afternoon sun, I began to read the book of Job. ********** Just before the sun disappeared completely behind the mountains, when everything was ablaze with orange, Neil walked up the steps of the gazebo. He sat down beside me. He said nothing, but his presence was a comfort. The sun shone on his left cheek, and I watched it mellow from an orange light to soft amber. He wore his blue button down shirt with the tiny pink stripe. The breeze and all his rallying about from patient to patient had tossed his hair about his face, and I noticed that the summer sun had turned the ends golden. He looked at me so intensely that my eyes were drawn to his. It had been a long time since I had really looked at him. So many times, when he looked at me, I averted my gaze; I did not want to have to endure his eyes--his unwavering eyes. They stared back at me as if just by looking at me, he could read my thoughts. This time, I was too exhausted to look away. He sighed and took my hand. "Christy, I want you to get some rest tonight. You and Alice both." He paused. "I am on my way to Raven Gap in the morning to check on Dan Scott. I need my two best nurses well rested for tomorrow." His thumb brushed lightly over the top of my hand. "Okay?" "Neil, I just couldn't, not with David and Fairlight's children as sick as they are, and what about you, Neil, you are just as tired---" "Swannie, Mary, and Jeb are sitting up with everyone tonight. They will come get me if there is a problem, so I will sleep on the davenport. Okay Dr. Huddleston?" He smiled and winked at me. "But--" "They'll be in good hands, Christy." Neil said. His eyes swept over my face, and with a fluid movement, he gently touched my cheeks and forehead with the back of his hand. "I don't know if I can sleep." I looked down at the ground. "Sure you can. I will prescribe a nice hot toddy for us all." He chuckled at this and then stood up and helped me to my feet. ******************* I sat with David and the children for the rest of the evening and called Ida before going to bed. It took a half dozen operators to get to California, and I still only got a strange person who said that they did not know an Ida Sweetwater. I hung up the receiver and decided that in the morning, I would give Ben Pentland money and a note for a telegram. Before retiring to my room, I went in to see Margaret. I had to take advantage of the times that I had completely scrubbed with lie soap and wore freshly laundered cloths. Dr. MacNeill had instructed us not to visit Margaret unless every last trace of typhoid was gone; her immune system was so very fragile. She was asleep when I came into her room. Her chest rose and fell softly. Her leather bound journal lay open beside her. Her pen also lay upon the bed and had blotted black ink onto the sheets. I sat down beside her and kissed her hand gently. Her eyes fluttered opened. "Christy, I was worried about you," she said groggily. Because of the pain in her joints, Dr. MacNeill kept her on pain medication, which made her half-asleep most of the time. "Fairlight--I wanted." She swallowed. "Oh I wanted to come and be there for you." She said. "I know you did Margaret, I know." But she was asleep before I had finished talking. I pulled the blankets around her, for the night had grown somewhat chilly. As I left the room, I turned out her lamp. I retired to my own room, but I could not sleep. I had the worst headache that pounded just behind my eyes. I lay in bed for what seemed like hours. I thought of David as I finally drifted off to sleep. I had a dream full of images. It was dark, but I could see and there were coffins---hundreds of coffins, and they were all like the hand-carved coffins that Bob Allen made. As I walked closer to them, I saw my parents lying inside. Then I saw David , Miss Alice, Dr. MacNeill, Margaret, the children---they were all lying inside the coffins. I woke up suddenly with my head pounded harder than before. My dream still had its grasp on me and my heart beat fast. I got out of bed, put on my dress, and lit my lamp, keeping it dim. Wandering from room to room, I checked on Miss Alice, George, Ruby Mae, and Margaret. They were all sleeping soundly. Next, I descended the stairs. Dr. MacNeill lay on the davenport, still in his clothes and suspenders and without a quilt. He had not even taken off his boots. He lay so quietly that I could not determine if he was breathing. The anxiety from my dream still lay in my mind, and I placed my hand gently on his chest to feel his heart. When I felt it beating against my hand, I took a deep breath of relief. I set the lamp on the coffee table and quickly got a quilt from the linen closet and spread it over him. I thought for a few minutes about his boots. My father used to fall asleep in his chair; I was always able to take his boots off without waking him, so I decided to try it with Neil. I slipped the first one off easily, revealing a spotted, knit sock. The second boot wouldn't budge. I pulled a bit harder, and as it came off, Neil sat up. I stood like a statue, holding his boot in my hand and hoping he would just go back to sleep. He looked at me with squinted eyes. "Christy? It's late, what are you doing up?" "I'm sorry, I did not mean to wake you. I just thought that I would take your boots off for you. I can't imagine sleeping comfortably with your boots still on." Neil pulled his feet off of the davenport and planted them on the rug. Then he reached for me and pulled me to sit down beside him. "Why aren't you asleep, lass?" He said and rubbed his hand down his face and then gripped his chin: his top finger covered his bottom lip. "It's silly." I said. "Nonsense. If it keeps you awake then it's not silly." His countenance was serious and thoughtful. "I feel like if I go to sleep I will wake up to find that someone else is sick. Like you or Miss Alice. I can't bear another death, Neil. I really can't." "I know lass, I know." He pulled me close to him until my face was against his chest. He wrapped his arm around me, keeping me close to him, and his fingers stroked my hair softly. "I know. I feel the same as you do. That is why I want you to get some sleep. I don't want anything to happen to you." He smelled like lie soap, whiskey, and pipe smoke; I closed my eyes to take it all in. For a moment, I felt peace; there was nothing else in the world but us. But the moment soon faded, and I pulled away. I found Neil with tears in his eyes. He took my face in his hands and said. "Oh, Christy, I wish I could stop it all so that nothing else could hurt you----not ever." ######################################################################## Part XXXI Neil left before I got out of bed the next morning. I ran down stairs to meet Ben Pentland and gave him the telegrams for Ida and Mrs. Grantland. Then I trotted up the hill to the schoolhouse. David was much the same as he was the night before, and Jeb was up feeding him chicken broth. His tongue was covered in the familiar grey fuzz, and I pressed my fingers to my forehead to try to relieve the pressure in my head. "I'll do that Jeb, you go and get some rest." I told him. "Thank you just the same, Miss Christy, but I'd rather not sleep." We stayed up nursing round the clock--all night and day. We took small naps, but no one slept more that an hour or two, and no one felt rested. We kept Ruby Mae busy in the kitchen making broth and onion poultices, for we did not want her around the typhoid, and I would not let George come near the schoolhouse for any reason. But George and I ate lunch together in the mission house in the afternoon. "Bob Allen said last night that he was going to kill Bird's Eye Taylor for what he did to Ault." George said with a mouth full of cornbread. "George, don't talk with your mouth full." I said. "But did you hear what I said?" "Yes, I heard, and I want you to stay out of it." "But Bird's Eye!" "Stay out of it George, these feuds can be very dangerous. Tom McHone was shot last year and almost died." George nodded with a dejected expression on his face. He pushed his plate away. Things settled into a routine. I sat with Margaret in the mornings and then went out to the schoolhouse in the afternoon. Miss Alice was in the schoolhouse in the morning and then sat with Margaret in the evening. We each took naps when Swannie or Jeb or Mary would relieve us. Because of the heat, the schoolhouse smelled even worse in the afternoon. The dank odor of human feet and the pungency of rot, human waste, and urine hovered so thickly in the room that it sometimes stung my eyes and made me choke. Nursing was an endless cycle of bathing, changing bedclothes, carrying buckets of waste, laundry, washing, and feeding broth and water. David kicked his blankets off continually, and, in his delirium, he talked and talked. Mostly, he said words that made no sense together, but sometimes he seemed lucid and talked about his father, the cove, Ault Allen, and the church bell. I pressed cool clothes to his forehead as he talked and rubbed him down with alcohol as I had seen Neil do. At night in the dark, I whispered to him, "David, you have to fight this thing. You have to fight it. I need you here! David, can you hear me?" Zaddy's hair, which had once been shiny and beautiful, was now dull and thin. Her lips were cracked and bleeding like her mother's had been, and she breathed raspily. John was so thin that I could scarcely recognize him and his body was covered in tiny raised, red dots all over. Opal and Isaak were weak and breathing laboriously. I felt overwhelmed, and my headache continued. I was exhausted. I prayed day and night. Clara was our ray of hope, for her fever had broken. She could only sit up if we held her, for she was so weak. We had decided not to tell her about her mother till she was stronger, so when she begged us for Fairlight to come to her, we held her and rocked her to sleep. Neil had been gone several days longer than he was supposed to be, and I began to worry. What if he had the fever and was lying on the mountain somewhere. This fear became so strong that when Swannie came to relieve me from sitting with Margaret one afternoon, I decided to saddle Buttons and look for him. But when I stood up from the chair beside Margaret's bed, my head was swimming. I felt strangely weak. "Miss Christy? Are you all right?" Swannie asked. "Oh yes, I'm just tired that's all, Swannie." I walked slowly down the stairs, holding on tightly to the railing. I stumbled to the kitchen and drank a glass of goat's milk. After a few minutes, I felt stronger. I must have been hungry, I thought. But where was George? I looked at my watch and discovered that it was well passed noon. I walked outside and started down the steps. "Christy, I asked you how you were doing? Didn't you hear me?" I looked up from the steps and found Neil standing in front of me. He held Charlie by the reins. "Neil! You're back. Thank God. I was so worried." Neil looked at me curiously, but before he could say another word, Sam Houston came sprinting into the mission yard. Mud covered his face, and he was so out of breath that he could not talk. Neil took hold of the boy's shoulders. "It's all right son, take your time." Neil instructed. "Bird's Eye has the Allen cabin surrounded and is threatening to shoot down the door and kill them all if they don't surrender Bob Allen. I heard gunshots when I was coming back from fishing. I hid by their well, and I heard the men shouting. I ran all the way here." "You did the right thing coming here, lad." Neil said. "Sam Houston!" I said and stepped down the last step. "Is George there with them?" "I reckon so, I saw his grey horse tied to the fence row." I swallowed so hard that it hurt my throat. "I'll go Christy. You wait here." Neil said. "No! I'm going too!" I shouted. "No Christy, it's much too dangerous. You wait here." "No! I'm going! He's my brother, Neil. He's all I have left, don't you see." I was crying hard. Neil did not argue; he sighed and, without a word, helped me upon Charlie's back. He swung up behind me, and we were off at a gallop across the meadow. The whole way to the Allen's, all I could hear in my mind was the words of my Uncle John, "Taking George to Cutter Gap is a mistake." A terrible felling hung in my stomach. As we approached the Allen cabin, I could hear angry voices calling out. "You yellow-bellied scum. White trash Allen's!" Neil steered Charlie off the trail, and we approached the cabin another way. We zig-zaged through the trees, and, as we neared the cabin again, I heard the piercing bang of gunshots. When we broke into a clearing and the Allen's cabin was in fulll view, I saw Little Burl standing in the front yard, holding his fishing poles and tiny wet shoes--helpless. Shots rang all around him, and I heard Bird's Eye's unmistakable voice, "Come get your young-un, Bob Allen." I slid off the horse ready to go after Little Burl myself, but Neil caught me. "No Christy! No! They're not aiming for the lad--they're just trying to scare Bob into coming outside." Just as Neil said this, the front door to the cabin sprung open, and George hobbled without his crutch to the scared little boy. "Little Burl!" He shouted. George reached out for Burl, but a bullet caught George in the chest before he could get to Burl. I watched helplessly as he fell to the ground. The gunfire ceased, and there was an erie silence that hung like fog. I broke free of Neil's grip, ripping the sleeve of my blouse as I did. I ran through the field and fell at my brother's side. "George! George!" I screamed. I tugged his lifeless body into my arms. Blood covered me and the ground beneath us. I placed my hand over his chest, but I didn't fell his heart beating. I pressed my face against his but I did not feel his breath upon my cheek. "Georgie? Oh my sweet Georgie-bear." A strange numbness shrouded me. I could not feel my legs or arms. My mind went numb and everything seemed to move in slow motion as if it were all a dream. I held my young brother in my arms and rocked him back and forth. I watched as the men appeared from out of the trees and gathered around us. The Allens came out of their cabin and stood next to the Taylors. Little Burl was crying, and Rob ran to comfort him. Bird's Eye was at my side. I looked up at him, feeling dizzily numb and floating--like I was not apart of my body. "George, Oh my God. What have we done! I'm sorry boy." Bird's Eye said. He had tears in his eyes, and he fell upon the ground and wept with his face pressed against the soil. I don't know how much time passed after that, but someone pulled me to my feet and away from George. I turned, standing on my numb legs; it was Neil who had helped me up. He looked at me with so much sadness that I nearly choked. "Christy, I---" "You were right all along, Neil," I said. My own voice sounded strange to me. Tears blurred my vision. "You were right. God really does not exit!" I looked at him for a long time. I watched his eyes fill with tears; his eyes were dark and blue and held more pain than I had ever seen before. He reached for me, but I walked away and with what little strength I had, I mounted Charlie and rode away from it all. "Christy! Christy please, wait!" I could hear Neil calling after me. But I rode away as fast as I could toward Fairlight's lookout. The trees rushed passed me-- a blur of green and gray. I heard the thump-thump of Charilie's hooves as they struck the ground. My legs and arms tingled. I didn't care if I fell off the black horse's back. I wanted to die. I never wanted anything more in my life. ######################################################################## Part XXXII The mountain became too steep for Charlie to climb, so I dropped down off of his back. The horse turned his shining eyes to me. The black hair on his muscular neck was dull with sweat. He grunted at me, and I kissed his soft nose and put my arms around his neck and cried. I saw it over and over again in my mind: the cabin door springing open, George running to Little Burl, the gun shot, and his falling to the ground. George's blood covered me, and I smelled its salty-sweet and metallic scent so strongly that I could taste it. I stumbled away from Charlie, threw my hand against a tree, and wretched until I was heaving air. This frightened the horse, and, with his ears back, he ran back down the mountain in the direction from which we had come. I only had a fourth of a mile to walk to get to Fairlight's spot, but I felt so weak. I started up the steep slope on wobbling legs. My swimming head steered me into rocks, but I pressed forward not caring if I fell. I made it to the flat rock just before the cliff, but when I looked up to the mountains, I saw a black tunnel before me and the blue mountains at the end of it. The blackness faded to brown and the mountains stretched farther away. The ground rushed up to meet me, and then there was nothing. *********************** I heard an owl hooting and Ruby Mae say, "Get your acorn, Miss Christy, an owl is a bad sign---yes sirrree a bad sign." "Come out and get your young'un!" I heard the piercing gunshots. "Little Burl, Little burl, where are your shoes?" I asked. Cold, so cold. There was snow; it was snowing! Feathery flakes fell upon heaps of lustrous, undulating hills of snow--so white that it was blue. I wanted to taste it; I was so thirsty. My throat ached and my tongue was dry and hot. Yes, snow would be nice. "Christy, can you hear me?" It was Margaret's voice. I tried hard to open my eyes, but I couldn't. "She is not allowed out of that bed under any circumstances." Dr. MacNeill said. "You must scrub with lye soap before going in to see Margaret. And then there were butterflies--beautiful yellow butterflies. "Oh God help me!" Margaret said. I tried to open my eyes again, and finally they opened. I was on my side. My whole body ached, and my skin felt strange---it seemed to writhe on its own. I saw the white limestone rock that my head lay upon. With a great effort, I turned over onto my back; the valley was filled with the purple light of dawn. And then I saw Margaret. "Oh Christy!" She kissed my cheek. I saw her eyes just in front of me--they were so like Amelia's. "What happened?" I asked. My voice was barely audible. "You're sick!" She said. Her gaunt face was pasty. She coughed and then said, "They've been looking for you, but I knew you'd be here. I brought Prince, but I don't know how---" My heavy eyelids closed again. My mind was a wash; I couldn't think. My head throbbed. My brain was swelling; it was too large to fit inside my skull. Falling, spinning, dizzy--the vertigo made me vomit again and again until I wished for death. Why couldn't I sleep? All I wanted to do was sleep, but I couldn't, and I was so exhausted. "Please let me sleep." I said. And then I saw lamplight, orangly glowing and flickering. Shadows on the wall--I was in my room. Dr. MacNeill held my wrist in his hand. I could smell my feather pillow; it smelled like Grandma Rudd's house---she used to make gingerbread on Saturdays. I felt cool water trickle down my throat. Deliciously cool water. I was thirsty. Then I felt the bugs. Crunchy, hard-shelled bugs infested my bed. They crawled all over me. Brown roaches and black beetles--their swarming legs flittered all over my skin, but I could not move. The blanket held me down. I could not get them off of me. They were in my hair, moving over my scalp toward my face. They were pulsing beneath the sheets. I felt them in my ears. Get them off of me! Get them off! I could see their shining, crested shells and their black eyes. "Christy, there are no bugs, Christy please listen to me, you must rest. There are no bugs." Neil said. But why couldn't he see them? They were right there. Why wouldn't he get them off of me? I cried and pleaded with him until I was too exhausted to cry anymore. I wanted to sleep but people kept moving me, turning me over, washing me, filling my mouth with water, choking me, pulling and tugging at me. What a great relief to hear Miss Alice's voice. She was reading to me---I listened. It was the book of Job. Her voice wandered in and out. It stared close to me and then moved away, so far away that I could not hear her, and then back again. I caught tiny fragments. It was like catching fireflies in the dark. "And the Lord said unto Satan, hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil?.....And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himsef put no hand......And the Lord said........and still he holdeth fast his integrity, although thou movedst me against him, to destroy him without cause.......And Satan answered the Lord, and said, skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life. But put forth thine hand now, and touch his bone and flesh, and he will curse thee to thy face...." It seemed like night came before day, and then there was night without day---was it dusk? morning? And the sun was so hot, too hot. I was submerged in water; it was the river, and the billowing, white rapids rushed over me and soothed my aching skin and cooled my burning legs and cheeks. I could feel all the tiny silver droplets dribble from my face. Then I saw Margaret, she stood on the opposite bank beside a big tree; she was waving for me to cross the river. I think she was speaking, though I could not hear her, for the water that poured over me deafened my ears. "Margaret? I can't hear you. Wait, I can't hear you." I said. I opened my eyes; my vision was bleary and grey, but soon my eyes started to focus. Lamplight lit my room; it was night. I was immersed in a wash tub of cold water. Dr. MacNeill stood bent over the tub and held me so that I did not dip under the water. I watched him cup and pour the water over me with his hands. My white nightgown floated and shimmered in the water like the flaxen hair of a mermaid. The water was ice cold, and I started to shiver. "Neil." I said softly. "Christy?" He turned to me. I tried so hard to look at him, but when I did, my eyes crossed with exhaustion. "It's all right, lass," he said softly and spooned my face in his wet hand. "You just rest now." He lifted me out of the water--- I could hear it dripping beneath me--- and carried me to my bed. "It's so cold." I said. "Aye, I know, lass, we will get you into some dry clothes and you will be warm." "Dr. MacNeill," I heard a woman's voice call from the hallway---a familiar voice. "Miss Alice says that you are needed in Margaret's room." "Margaret? I clutched at Neil's shirt. "I want to see Margaret." I said. "Shhh," Dr. MacNeill placed his finger to my lips. "Not right now Christy." "How is she doctor?" The woman had entered the room. Ida? What is Ida doing here? "The cold water has helped bring her fever down a bit, but---" He stopped mid-sentence because I sat up. My head rushed, but my desire to see Margaret was stronger. "Christy, lie down and rest." He placed his hand on my shoulder. "Ida," he said. "Can you get Christy changed into some dry clothes while I go see what Alice needs." "Of course." She said. I listened to Neil's footsteps as he left the room and walked down the hallway. "Oh, Christy dear." Ida said. She sat on the bed beside me and took my hand. "I've wanted to thank you for the telegram." I squinted my eyes. It WAS Ida, but a much happier, rosy-faced Ida. She smiled pleasantly at me. "David?" I asked. My mind felt fuzzy, why couldn't I concentrate? "He's doing much better now--thanks to you and Miss Alice." "Margaret?" Ida frowned and turned her face away from me. She stood up and went to my dresser. "Now let's see what we can find for you to wear." She opened the drawer and pulled out my Daddy's blue cotton pajamas. "These look comfortable." "They were my father's." I said. It felt good to be in fresh dry clothes. Ida pulled the wet quilt from under me and then began to roll up the too long pant legs of my pajamas. As she did, I asked her again. "Please, Ida, tell me about Margaret." She stopped rolling and looked at me. "You just rest now, Christy." She started on my sleeves next. "Please Ida, tell me the truth. I have to know." She sighed and arrested her task once more. "I arrived here the afternoon that you went missing. No one could find you, Christy. Margaret went out alone that night to look for you. No one knew that she had gone. She appeared the next morning leading Prince with you on his back. Even as sick as she was, she walked all the way down those mountains by herself. Dr. MacNeill said it was physically impossible, but she did it. She collapsed as soon as she made it to the mission. The tuberculosis has attacked her liver and her kidneys. There is nothing else anyone can do for her. It's in God's hands now." I closed my eyes, twisting my claddagh ring around and around on my finger, "Oh Margaret!" I whispered to myself. "She's been asking for you, but you've been so sick." "Ida, I have to see her, please, you have to help me to her room." "Dr. MacNeill said that you can not be out of bed. I don't think..." "Ida please." She looked at me for the longest time, intensely. Her head was cocked, and then without a word, she stood up and helped me to my feet. She pulled my arm around her neck, and together, we treaded through the door and down the hallway toward Margaret's room. ###################################################################### Part XXXIII (33) I could hear Margaret's wheezing as we approached her room. The walk down the hallway took more energy than I possessed. I felt as if I might drop. Because Ida's hands were occupied with holding me, she had to push the door open with her foot. I raised my head weakly to peer inside. Oddly, the room was bright and cheerful, for there were several oil lamps and candles lit. Margaret lay supine and very still on the over-sized bed; her eyes were open and her face was turned toward her mother. Miss Alice's back was to us. She sat on the right side of the bed, holding Margaret's hand. Dr. MacNeill stood to the left of the bed; he was leaning over and listening to her heartbeat with his stethoscope. As soon as he saw us, he tore the stethoscope from his ears and, with two long strides, was by my side. "Ida what are you doing? Have you lost your senses completely?" He shouted. "She wanted to see Margaret, and I think we should let her," Ida said with a confidence that won my admiration. "Do you have any idea how much danger you've---" "It isn't Ida's fault," I interrupted with my last stretch of energy. "I asked for her help, and she kindly gave it to me." "Christy!" I heard Margaret say; and though her voice was feeble, it was full of joy. Before I had time to think, Dr. MacNeill had hoisted me into his arms and started to carry me back down the hallway. "Neil, please, I have to see her." He did not speak but continued down the hallway with his jaw tightly clenched. His expression was one of painful concern. "Neil, if Christy wants to see Margaret, I think thee should let her." Miss Alice said from the doorway. Neil paused without turning around and stood silent for well over a minute. Then he pulled me closer, resting his forehead against mine, and whispered. "I'll not lose you, lass. I'll not." His voice tripped with emotion. After another brief pause, he turned, carried me back to Margaret's room, and lay me down across the bed so that I could see Margaret but still lie down. I lay on my side with my legs tucked against my body. Neil propped a pillow under my head, and Miss Alice spread a quilt over me. The moment Margaret's icy fingers touched my hand, I started to cry. "I'm so sorry Margaret," I said. "If it wasn't for me you'd...." "No Christy, don't say that. Don't." She held glistening tears in her eyes. "Don't take away from me that which I am most proud." The pitch of her voice swung between high and low as she talked despite her labored breath. The bed dipped as Miss Alice resumed her position on the other side of Margaret, and Margaret smiled at her with affection. "Thank you for what you did, Margaret, thank you." I said. "Oh, Christy, I so wanted to talk to you. I'm glad you have come. I wanted to tell you about that night. I was so wrong, Christy. God does exist. He's here now---can you feel Him? Close your eyes, can you feel Him?" I closed my eyes, but could not feel anything because I could not stop worrying about the suffering sound of Margaret's breathing. "He was there that night on the mountain." She closed her eyes, and her tears fell from her temples and disappeared into her dark hair. "All my life I was looking for something. I was yearning for love but I could never find it. I demanded it from mother," she opened her eyes and looked at Alice sadly. "But when I felt that you had failed me, mother, I looked for it in Neil." Then she turned her eyes to the Doctor, who stood tall and solid beside the bed. "But I didn't find what I was looking for with you either, Mac. I was angry; I hated you both for withholding the love that I sought. But I didn't realize that it was not something you or ANYONE could give me. It was God's love that I needed so desperately." Margaret's beauty seemed to unfold like a flower---a flower with a vibrancy of color that spilled into my heart. "And His love was there, Christy, waiting for me that night on the mountain. It had been there all along, but I didn't know how to find it. You showed me how." Alice sunk her head against her daughter's chest, sobbing. I watched her through heavy, crossing eyes. I felt cold and chills crackled all over my skin. I pulled my legs closer to me. "I don't know why I couldn't learn it from you, mother. You had given me such a clear path to follow, but I refused to follow." Margaret sat up and coughed so bitterly that an abundance of bright blood covered her hand and lips. Neil dipped a cloth into the basin of water and sat down upon the bed. He eased Margaret back upon her pillow and tenderly washed her face and hand. She smiled gratefully at him. "It was your selflessness, Christy." She stared again. "You were hurting worse than anyone and yet you were there for me. You should have been my enemy." More tears weep from her eyes, trickling beautifully and soaking her ears. "When Neil told me about what happened to George, my heart broke for you, and for the first time in my life, I didn't care at all about myself; all I wanted was for you to be okay, at any expense. You are my friend, my sister." She smiled at me again. "And when I set out to find you that night, God was there. I had finally let go of myself, my fear, my hate, and when I did, He was there." "It was unlike anything I expected. He is love. He is more beautiful than I could ever describe." Her eyes grew distant, staring unblinkingly over head. "In his presence, there is strength beyond all. In his presence, everything is the right color, the right smell...." She fought hard to gain her breath again. "I wanted to tell you that." She turned her head to me. "He is real, and He cares so much for you. Don't give up on Him." She paused, looking at me with a profound expression. "I like to think that I would have been more like you, Christy, if things had been different." She closed her eyes, drowsily, and all was quiet except for the ripping sound of her breathing. A long time passed without a word spoken; we all remained huddled around her as if we could somehow offer strength. Her eyes were only half-open, and she coughed only slightly now, but her breathing grew more and more difficult. I found it almost impossible to focus my eyes on her. My ears were burning, and my head had begun to throb. "Mac, there isn't much time," She said. "Hush now," he said. "You must rest." And he touched her forehead with his fingertips. "I don't want you to blame yourself for anything, Mac, but I know that you already do. I can see it in your eyes--that pain deep down, but none of this is your fault. Sometimes there are people you can not make better. Some people can never be fixed. It was all beyond your control. But I love you," she said. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then sat back again and took her hand. "I have always loved you," she said. "but I think in me, you found only pieces of the woman that you were meant to be with---" She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it, then gently laid it down over the top of my hand. "---the woman you truly love." Neil cried. "Mother, you are the most amazing person I have ever met; funny it took me a lifetime to realize that. I love you so very much, and no matter where I am, I will always love you." "Oh my beautiful baby girl." Miss Alice said and stretched her hand out to stroke her daughter's ivory cheek. Margaret closed her eyes and placed her hand over her mother's, holding it against her face. "My Margaret has come home at last," Alice said, smiling through her tears, and then she took Margaret in her arms and rocked her daughter gently. "I love you sweetheart," She said then kissed her daughter's tear soaked temple. And in the flickering light, Miss Alice sang her daughter to sleep. "Lullaby and goodnight, With pink roses bedight, With lilies o'erspread, Is my baby's sweet head. Lay you down now, and rest, May your slumber be blessed! Lay you down now, and rest, May your slumber be blessed!" "Lullaby, and good night, You're your mother's delight, Shining angels beside My darling abide. Soft and warm is your bed, Close your eyes and rest your head. Soft and warm is your bed, Close your eyes and rest your head. Sleepyhead, close your eyes. Mother's right here beside you. I'll protect you from harm, You will wake in His arms. Guardian angels are near, So sleep on, with no fear. Guardian angels are near, So sleep on, with no fear. Lullaby, and sleep tight. Hush! My darling is sleeping, On her sheets white as cream, With her head full of dreams. When the sky's bright with dawn, She will wake in the morning. When noontide warms the world, She will frolic in His love......" (Brahms's Lullaby or The Cradle Song) ######################################################################## Part XXXIV (34) Miss Alice continued to sing; though Neil had told her that Margaret was gone. I lay very still, trying to clear my head, but everything was becoming a slow-moving montage. I could hear Miss Alice singing; she had never sung before, and the low hushed tone soothed my breaking head. The song flowed into endless circles. I felt strange; unlike anything I have ever known, I was teetering. I became detached----not apart of myself. I closed my foggy eyes, trying to pull and regain my mind, but the pulling exhausted me and made my head feel even more dim. "Christy?" I heard Neil's soft voice, which kept me from totally separating. His large, cool hand covered my forehead. I opened my eyes to look at him. He was talking to me, I knew he was talking, but what was he saying? "Neil, I can't.....think......my head.....hurts so much........I can't---" I could feel his gentle arms around me; he carried me, but a dark whirling pool sucked me away, drawing and absorbing, until I floated, spinning in darkness. ************ Day and night, the blankets swallowed me, ingesting me; I kicked at them, pushing and tearing, but they would not stop. "You have to fight this Christy, I know you can--" It was David's voice. I wanted to see his beautiful smile. But I was a captive of the darkness. "Pull me out of the rain, David. It's raining." I said, but I stood alone as it poured down and down. Ben Pentland led the way over the slate blue mountains. "Mail's stacked up something fierce." He called over his shoulder to me. I followed him closely, stopping only to look out over the mountains, and the mountains were a soaring beauty that lasted. The sun baked and then froze me. Would the night never end? Dr. MacNeill poked and pressed at my side. "That hurts!" I said. "Aye, my brave lass---" Paul's tacky face appeared in the darkness. His hot breath, rank with alcohol, wafted over my face. He kissed me. "No please leave me alone." I said. I slipped out of his reaching hands and ran. He chased me through the trees, down the hills, until I was breathless. I was so tired. I trembled with the fear that he would catch me. "I'm here now, Christy; I'll not go away again. Shhh, shh, lass, rest now. Close your eyes and rest." My face lay against Neil's medicine soaked shirt. Fields and fields of wildflowers, and I followed the butterflies along stippled, grass tops----leaping and running, skipping with boundless energy, the energy of a child. I crossed the quiescent river upon tottering rocks. The air was crisp, but not uncomfortable. I walked through the trees, and then I found myself in a meadow, nestled in a tight valley--a holler. The autumn sun spread a golden blanket over the sage grass. The trees circled all around, aflame with crimson, saffron, and pumpkin leaves. The sky hung over head, royal blue and majestic. I walked to the middle of the meadow and lay down atop the stiff grass and looked up at the sky so inky and blue. What glorious peace I felt lying there, lazily closing my eyes. "The Lord is my shepherd: I shall not want...." I sat up because I thought I heard David's voice. But I was alone in the valley---alone, but for the yellow butterflies. I lay back down. "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil...." "David?" I called out, but still there was no one there. I closed my eyes, feeling rest at last, and on the breeze, gently floating, I heard the voices of children singing sweetly. I sat up and across the meadow I saw a tiny girl. Her bonnet hid her face, but her gold hair peeked out from beneath, and she wore a lavender calico dress. She did not see me; she was busy catching leaves as they sauntered to the ground. I walked toward her, but when she saw me, she ran. I followed her. She ran by the river. The river seemed familiar, it looked like Big Spoon Creek, but was it? The girl left the river to follow a tiny spring, up and up into the mountains, through close knitted trees that blocked the sun. We followed beside trickling waters that fell into still pools. The tiny girl was quick; and managed to stay just out of my reach. "Wait for me," I called. "I'm not going to hurt you!" But the spring grew wider and deeper, until it was a river all its own. We finally broke out of the trees into the bright light that filled the prettiest little valley I have ever seen. The valley was perched in the steep hills, a niche that the stream had carved from the great blue mountains that jutted all around me. The river rushed through the valley's center. The face of a high cliff stood immense at the farthest point of the valley, and from its height a white waterfall cascaded down and fell like cotton clouds into a pool of blue water. It was glorious. The girl crossed the river with ease--she did not even seem to be wet when she came to the other side. She ran in the direction of a huge Maple tree with knobby limbs. I saw others standing there, and I crept closer; then I noticed beneath the yellow leaves of the maple, a young woman. She picked up the little babe and supported her upon her hip with her arms clasped around her. The people all looked intently in the direction of the waterfall. I walked closer to them, until I stood at the river's edges. My breath left me, for I recognized the young woman. It was Margaret, and the little girl was Amelia. Their eyes, a perfect match together, pierced me with joy. Beside Margaret, stood Fairlight. She had a large, dimpled grin on her face; she held the tiny hands of two little'uns that stood beside her and hid their shy faces in the skirts of her dress. I saw George next, tall and strong with two beautiful legs. He too was smiling, handsomely; and Mother and Daddy stood next to him. Daddy had a strong arm around Mother. I called out to them, but they did not hear me. They waved, but in the direction of the waterfall, and I turned, confused, to look for the person for whom they waved, but I saw no one there. "Mom, Dad!" I called out again. But they did not answer. They were talking and smiling. Margaret swung little Amelia about by her arms. My little sister giggled, and her bonnet fell from her head, releasing her golden hair. "More," she cried out, waving her arms up at Margaret. I stood frozen watching them, fearing that one false move would cause them to disappear. Merriment filled their faces, and I longed to be with them. The longing swelled, until it towed me into the cold river. And then, at the center, I felt it! Just as Margaret had said---a strength beyond limits, a beauty indescribable, colors all together without one hue losing its vibrancy in the mixture, a fragrance faint like hay and honey suckles but strong like winter smoke from a chimney, the feeling of effortless floating--with nothing to weigh me down, the sound of peace that could only be described as music. The taste of flowers, and something else. It was a knowing. It WAS God! But as I continued across the river, the water at my waist, I felt an earthy wind blow through the valley and brush my cheeks; the sound of it was a whisper so eloquent that I tilted my head to listen; chills bloomed all over me. Butterflies flittered in my stomach, and I turned around and looked in the direction from which I had come. There was something that held me; I was still needed, a strength of love pulled me backward. I looked again at my family ahead of me, they were there, smiling, still not seeing me. It was then that I knew; I had to go back. I nodded with understanding and then waded back across the river. ******* The buoyancy left me, and suddenly, a tremendous weight pressed down upon me, making it hard for me to breathe. My eyes would not open, but I heard a voice, a man's voice. My mind was a murky bog. Whose voice was it? He was calling my name. "Christy, oh Christy please, you cannot leave me. Christy, I love you with all of my heart, from the depth of my soul, I love you. Can you hear me? Please you have to hear me, please, Christy, you can not leave me without knowing that I love you more than my own life. I've always loved you." The accent was unmistakable. It was Neil MacNeill. I fought to open my eyes, but they would not obey. He was sobbing and tugging at the quilts that engulfed me. "God, please hear me. I know I have no right to ask for You to listen, for I have cursed Your name over and over again. I blamed You for taking my parents away, I blamed You for Margaret, and each time I lost a child, I sat by Your river and swore undying hatred for You. But I was wrong. I was so arrogant and foolish; I did not understand. I thought I knew something because I was a doctor, but I know nothing, God. I know nothing at all. He wept, gasping for air as if he were drowning. "And then you sent Christy, whose soul is so beautiful that she brightens everything she touches. And in her, I found a love that I did not know existed on this earth. A love so strong that when tears fell from her blue eyes, it was my cheeks that stung, my heart that broke. I know now that this love could only have come from You. You gave it to me, even though I cursed You. Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I am so sorry for what I have done. Please forgive me. I do not deserve favors from You; I deserve nothing at all--You are the creator and I am the created. I am nothing, and now I am helpless. There is nothing more I can do for Christy, and I love her. I have nothing to give you but this precious love I have and our lives--hers and mine---do with us as you will." Neil loved me. He loved me like that. I wanted to comfort him, to ease him. I opened my eyes weakly. I was in my room, Neil had his faced buried in the disheveled sheets, and the dark room arose with the yellowing dawn. The light saturated everything, pushing the shadows away, renewing itself as my daddy always said it did. And starting at my head, it cooled my burning body, until the fever was gone. I was still weak, my hand shook as I feebly lifted my arm and placed my fingers deep into the ruddy locks of the man that I loved. "Christy!" He said, and he lifted his head to look at me in disbelief, and then the disbelief melted, and he smiled through his tears with an understanding in his eyes. He pulled me into his arms and sobbed, stopping only to kiss my cheek, my forehead, my eyelids, my nose, and my lips. In our embrace, we were so close that my body echoed his shivering and his heaving as his great chest drew in the newness of dawning air. "Oh thank you God, thank you God," he said. And when his breathing recovered from his weeping. He cuddled me in his arms like a babe, so weak I was that he had to hold my head in his hands. We rocked together as he sang our song and the lyrics that he had written for me. "Down in the Valley, The valley so low, Hang your head over, Hear the wind blow, Hear the wind blow, lass Hear the wind blow, Hang your head over, Hear that Wind Blow. For it was the wind, That whispered your name, Calling you to me, Through mountains and rain, Through mountains and rain, lass Through mountains and rain, Calling you to me, Through mountains and rain. Here in these mountains, These mountains smoke blue, You've helped so many, With all that you do, With all that you do, Lass With all that you do, You've helped so many, With all that you do. A dance in the moonlight, A wade in the stream, I gave you my heart, It wasn't a dream, It wasn't a dream, lass It wasn't a dream, I gave you my heart, It wasn't a dream. For it was your kindness, And your smile so bright, You saved my soul, You showed me the light, You showed me the light, lass You showed me the light, You saved my soul, You showed me the light. There in your eyes, I can see your tears, I want to hold you, And rock away your fears, And rock away your fears, Lass And rock away your fears, I want to hold you, And rock away your fears. You touched my life, lass More than you know, I should have told you, Christy, I love you so, Christy, I love you so, lass Christy, I love you so, I should have told you, Christy, please don't go." With my ear pressed against his chest, I heard and felt his voice coming from his very spirit, it was the sound of peace, the music of heaven. ############################################## The End? Maybe.