Title: "Here To Stay" Author: Lisa Renee ========== Disclaimer: Catherine Marshall's beautiful story of Christy is owned by the LeSourd family. I am in no way seeking profit from or credit for her story. I am continuing the story of Christy for my own amusement only. Any additions in story line and characters were invented by the author of this fanfiction. ========== ========== Part One ========== “Absolutely not. It’s much too soon.” Dr. MacNeill stood in the mission parlor, an imposing presence with his muscular arms folded across his barrel chest, strong jaw jutting out, piercing eyes glaring at me from under his lined brow. I commanded myself not to be intimidated by him this time. “It’s not too soon! I’ve been recovering for two weeks!” The Doctor was immovable. “Doctor MacNeill, my parents have been worried sick about me since I got typhoid. I really should go home for a while, like Mother wants.” Still he glowered. “It’s almost Christmas.” “And?” “Mother expects me to come home for the holidays.” “Your mother doesn’t seem to understand the extent of your illness.” “She does,” I argued. “Why do you think she wants me to come home?” “Neil,” Miss Alice broke in, “I do not see why thee is so adamant against Christy going to Asheville.” “Because she’s not up to traveling yet!” The Doctor tugged at his hair with both hands. “I can’t believe her mother wants her to be moved all the way to Asheville!” They talked about me as if I wasn’t there - I hated that. Miss Alice looked like she was trying not to smile. “It is not as though Christy will be walking to Asheville. It’s only a six-hour train ride.” “Good Lord, Alice! Christy nearly died - she’s got a long recovery ahead of her. The trip to El Pano would drain her, then add a train ride... What if she’s alone on the train and faints or spikes a fever? Who would take care of her then?” I had seen Dr. MacNeill irritated, but never in such a temper as this. He normally maintained a tight control of his emotions. His anger was unsettling. With her usual Quaker calmness, Miss Alice said, “I am as concerned for Christy’s health as you are, Neil, but thee must not forget she was miraculously given back to us.” Dr. MacNeill’s voice was so low that it was nearly a growl. “I just want to make sure Christy has a smooth recovery - no complications, plenty of rest. Is that so much to ask?” This was so exasperating! I was getting well! “I’m going home, Doctor.” Dr. MacNeill stared at me for a what seemed like a full minute. His hazel eyes flickered, and I watched the muscle in his jaw constrict. “I can’t stop you,” he finally said. “But I’m warning you, it’s not wise.” He turned on his heel and left the parlor, slamming the door so hard that the pictures on the wall rattled. I ran outside after him. “Doctor MacNeill!” The Doctor spun to face me. “I have a name, Christy.” “Why are you so angry with me, Neil?” I’d never called the him by his first name. It felt strange, but for some reason I wanted to say it again. “I’m not angry with you.” “Then why are you acting this way?” Neil sighed. His breath was steamy in the winter twilight. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. But I’m worried about you.” “I’ll be fine - I’m only going home.” “I can see nothing I say will change your mind,” Neil said. With a slight grin he added, “You’re as stubborn as I am.” We laughed softly, and the tension between us lessened. I liked it when I could laugh with Neil, but he quickly became serious again. “Just be careful - don’t tax yourself. You’ve had a rough time of it, Christy. Remember that though you may feel better, your body still needs lots of rest.” “I promise to take care of myself, Neil.” I smiled. “Not that I’ll have to - Mother will hover over me like a dozen doctors. She’s more cautious with me than you are!” “That’s what I’m afraid of.” I arched my brow, not understanding Neil’s statement. He lowered his eyes and fiddled with the strap of his saddle bag. “You’ll stay in Asheville a while?” “A few weeks - till after the New Year.” He gave a small nod. “I’ll be by tomorrow to check on you.” I was cold, but I watched Neil make his way through the snow to the barn. His gait was slower than usual, and his shoulders slumped. He couldn’t be that worried about my health. “I don’t understand him, Miss Alice,” I said when I went back inside. Miss Alice didn’t look up from her mending. “Why is he so anxious about my health?” “Because Neil is a good doctor. Far too many patients have prolonged recoveries or relapsed into illness simply because they resumed their normal activities too quickly. It frustrates him that you might be so careless.” “I’m not being careless! He’s just... long-headed.” “To Neil anything outside his orders is careless.” “That doesn’t mean it is.” Miss Alice completed a row in her knitting and focused on the new one. “Has thee ever thought that Neil might be concerned about you? I mean, beyond your health. I think that the Doctor does not relish the thought of you being in Asheville for Christmas.” “I know!” I cried. Why did Miss Alice restate the obvious? “Christy,” Miss Alice said slowly, glancing over the top of her reading glasses, “you are aware that Neil does not look at you only with the eyes of a physician?” “Well, of course we’re friends-” “Would you want your friend-” she stressed the word “-to leave you for several weeks?” “No,” I replied, “but this has nothing to do with friends. I just want to be with my family for Christmas. Why doesn’t Doctor MacNeill understand that?” “I’m sure he does, Christy.” Miss Alice said. “Consider his position - it is Christmas for Neil, too. He has no family.” She set down her knitting. “He cares for thee.” I swallowed hard. “I know.” We sat in silence for several long moments as I struggled to collect my scattered thoughts. I’d known for days that I would have to sort through them sooner or later. But this was too soon. I wrung my hands and studied the shoes on my squirming feet. “I - I’m not sure how I feel about that,” I began. “I know Neil cares, but he’s so confusing.” “Neil is confusing? Or thy own feelings?” “My feelings.” “That is not new.” A smile played on Miss Alice’s lips. “Thee has never yet formed a solid opinion of Neil - at least not that I have heard.” “Exactly! At first I didn’t like him at all. We hardly talked, but when we did, he seemed so critical and condescending. This fall something changed - he was more... friendly.” “How did Neil’s friendliness make thee feel?” I thought for a moment before answering, “Like I could accomplish anything in this Cove. We’ve become good friends.” “So you are aware of the change that has taken place in your relationship?” I looked into my mentor’s grey eyes. The depth of them urged me to speak my heart. “Yes, but that’s all I understand - that it’s been a long, slow change.” “You’re not as confused as you think, if you understand that. Any lasting relationship takes time to grow.” As I contemplated this, I rose and stood before the fireplace. Miss Alice had a good point. David and I had fallen in love in no time - but it wasn’t real, lasting love. “What if one person’s feelings have grown deeper more quickly than the other’s?” “Can thee be a little more specific?” “I’ve discovered that Neil...” I almost said that Neil cared for me - but Miss Alice had said that. And he didn’t just care for me... I took a deep breath and forged ahead. “He loves me.” There, I had said it. When Miss Alice made no response, I continued. “I can’t ignore that kind of love, but I’m not sure I feel that way for him.” “Do you think that in time thee could come to love Neil? You said yourself that thy friendship with Neil was slow in developing. Why should thee fall in love quickly?” “That’s true, but it could take me a long time, and Neil already feels so deeply... I don’t want to hurt him.” “How could Neil be hurt?” I croosed the room. “What if he wants more from me than I’m ready to give?” Miss Alice arched her eyebrow. I stoppped pacing. “What if Neil wants to marry me?” “Don’t gentlemen normally court ladies before they ask to marry them?” Her teasing made me feel silly. “I just don’t think I could be... involved... with a man who felt more strongly than I.” “Has Neil asked to court you?” “No, but-” “Neil is a cautious man. He would not ask to court thee unless he had some idea that you shared his feelings. “But won’t it hurt him if he sees I don’t share his feelings right now?” Again Miss Alice was silent. I lost myself in thought, but was startled by a soft, yet strong hand lifting my chin. “ ‘Love is patient and is kind; love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails’.” I looked up at Miss Alice. “Are you saying that if Neil loves me, he’ll wait?” Her only reply was her placid half-smile. Part Two My talk with Miss Alice didn’t do much to lessen my confusion about my feelings for Neil, but I did sleep a little easier that night knowing I didn’t have to make a decision right away. It wouldn’t do to keep him wondering what I felt, so I decided to step back from all my past experiences with Neil and observe him anew. I was already in bed the next night before I had my next opportunity to observe him. I was reading my Bible when I heard a soft rap on my bedroom door. “Come in,” I called. Neil entered, his clothes and hair disseveled as usual. “Are you here to examine me?” I was so very tired of examinations and people worrying about my health. After my fever had broken two weeks before, I’d been too weak even to sit up without support, but several days’ peaceful rest left me ready to resume my normal activities. I was very restless, and it had been difficult to follow Neil’s strict orders about rest and diet. Even when he’d let me out of bed ten days later, he was still cautious and anxious. “Try not to look so down in the mouth,” Neil said as he unpacked his medical instruments. “If everything looks good, this’ll be the last time.” “I thought you wouldn’t make it tonight,” I said, encouraged. “You usually come earlier.” “I had a lot of calls today.” “We missed you at dinner. Miss Ida saved you a plate - pork chops, collard greens, mashed pota-” Neil’s features hardened. “She didn’t let you eat any of that?” There he was, worrying again. I was annoyed, but I bit back the defensive words that leapt to my tongue. I remembered my resolution to see Neil more positively. He was cautious because he cared about his patients. “I only wish she’d let me eat that,” I told him. “I had potato soup.” “Well then,” he said, “let me take a look at you.” Except for a few terse commands to sit up or breathe deeply, Neil was silent throughout the examination. I didn’t pay attention to his poking and prodding, but wondered at Neil’s demeanor. Lately he’d been friendly during examinations, filling me in on happenings in the Cove. What made him so quiet? He stuck a thermometer in my mouth. “Make sure it’s under your tongue.” My eyes followed Dr. MacNeill as he strode to the window, his boots clomping on the floorboards. The muscles in his forearm were tense as he leaned against the window frame. He stared out at the winter landscape, then his gaze wandered to my partially-packed suitcase which lay open in the corner. His frown seemed to tug a little more at the corners of his mouth. Was he angry? Last night he’d said he wasn’t. Had he told the truth? Or could he really be disappointed to see me go, as Miss Alice suggested? The thermometer dug into my tender lower palate. The only sound in the room was the impatient ticking of the clock. At last the Doctor took the thermometer from my mouth. “Normal.” He shook it down. “That’s five days in a row,” I said. “You ran a low fever for longer than I would’ve liked,” he said, “but I’m pleased with how you’ve progressed this past week. I think it’s safe to rule out the possibility of a relapse.” At last - Dr. MacNeill’s clean bill of health. For the first time in weeks I felt free. “You can try solid foods now. Nothing rich, be careful with meats and eggs - don’t overdo them. Try to eat a lot of vegetables. You need to put some meat back on your bones.” I knew that all too well. My cheekbones protruded from my already narrow face, and my clothes hung loosely on my frame. “I’ll still be very careful,” I said, hoping to lighten his mood. The Doctor didn’t look at me. He methodically poured some alcohol on a cloth and rubbed down the thermometer. “Alice tells me you’re leaving day after tomorrow.” I nodded. “Christmas Eve.” “Yes.” Why did the admission leave me feeling guilty? Why was this conversation going so badly? All day I’d looked forward to seeing him, so I could show him how much I wanted to be friends. Yet tonight he behaved as though we were perfect strangers. Why did he always have to act exactly opposite from what I was expecting? “I’m sorry, Christy.“ My head jerked up. “It’s just-” he walked back to the window and clutched the sill. “I’ve never had much reason to celebrate Christmas, and now that I do...” This was an unexpected turn in conversation! Since I’d heard Neil’s prayer, I’d wanted to ask him about his conversion. The thought of Neil becoming a Christian filled me with a renewed sense of excitement about my visions for the Cove. Neil was a vital connection between the mission and the mountain people - he could do so much to help us. But in the two weeks since his prayer, he hadn’t said a word about it. Maybe tonight he would. I waited expectantly for Neil to pour out his dramatic spiritual discoveries, but he was silent. Why didn’t he just tell me? It couldn’t be that hard. Then it occurred to me that maybe Neil didn’t know how to talk about it yet. Christianity was, after all, new to him. I studied Neil’s profile. His face was serious, and his eyes seemed to look beyond the scene outside the window. For the first time I noticed that he was not a man to speak carelessly; his frequent pauses in conversation were so that he could choose the right words - so consistent with his perfectionistic nature. He traced a pattern in the condensation on the window. “I thought you’d be here.” I didn’t know what to say. I was disappointed that Neil had again turned the conversation in a new direction, but that thought was soon eclipsed by another: Neil didn’t want me to go - not because of my health, but because of me. Miss Alice had told me so last night, but it was real now that Neil acknowledged it himself. “Do you have someone to take you to El Pano?” Tugging at the long hair at the back of his neck, he continued, “The snow’s quite deep, and you’ll need a sled to get through-” I barely heard him. I knew I had to do something to help Neil enjoy Christmas, even if I wouldn’t be in the Cove. “Why don’t you come with me?” Neil gave a wry grin. “That’s what I was asking.” “I mean to Asheville.” The Doctor was speechless - and so was I. The invitation had fallen from my lips before I’d even thought about it. I’d wanted to show him my friendship, but wasn’t inviting him to Asheville a little extreme? Yet it seemed to be the perfect solution to the problem. “You want me to go to Asheville with you? For Christmas?” I had to smile at Neil’s incredulous expression. There was something satisfying about catching him off-guard. “Why not? You’d just be alone here, and I’m sure my parents would feel better if I didn’t travel by myself...” Why did it sound as if I was trying to convince myself rather than Neil? I wondered if it sounded that way to him. I quickly added, “I’d be happy for you to come.” My thoughts were bouncing back and forth, and suddenly I doubted myself. What was I thinking? Neil couldn’t spend Christmas with my family! They didn’t know him; what would they think when they saw him with me? “Of course I understand if you can’t leave your patients-” “Cutter Gap can spare me for a few days.” I got a sinking feeling inside. He was going to say yes. “Really?” “Like you said - I’d be alone if I stayed here.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his corduroy pants, taking a relaxed stance for the first time all evening. “I’d like to meet your family and be with you. I can’t think of a better way to spend the holiday.” Neil looked on me with that measured expression I’d seen before. His face was still serious, yet peaceful. He smiled faintly. The lines around his eyes were soft, expressing some very deep feeling I couldn’t name. What did that look mean? “But you’re sure no one will mind?” he asked, again reaching for the ends of his unruly hair. I wavered for a moment. I could still change my mind. But no - I looked up at him again. Was it hope I saw in his hazel eyes? Maybe it had been an impulsive invitation, but I couldn’t let Neil down. He deserved more than that. “We’ll be happy to have you.” Neil’s smile was wide. “Then I accept!” Part Three “I invited Doctor MacNeill to spend Christmas in Asheville.” I’d decided the night before that I ought to inform Miss Alice of my new travel plans. Since David was bound to find out sooner or later, I thought that breakfast time, in the company of Miss Alice, would be a good a time to make the announcement. I wasn’t sure what the reaction to my news would be, so I braced myself for anything. Miss Ida snorted as she slopped gravy onto my biscuits, but said nothing. Miss Alice’s eyes twinkled with a knowing delight that made me blush. David swallowed his mouthful of eggs, then asked, “Are you sure you can handle the Doc for that long?” His was the reaction I’d worried most about. David hadn’t mentioned our relationship at all during my recovery. In fact, he was back to his old jocular self, and it almost seemed as though he’d never even proposed to me. Still, I feared he might be jealous. But he laughed loudly. “Or should I ask if he’ll be able to handle you?” “Why, David Grantland, whatever do you mean?” I asked, joining in his banter. “Nothing,” David said. “Only that you have a way of ruffling his feathers a little.” “Me? I-” I was interrupted by Miss Alice’s laughter, and then a scraping outside. We all looked up as the kitchen door swung open and revealed Neil stomping his feet on the stoop. Snow swirled around his legs, covering the toes of his boots and the floor. “Snow’s really coming down,” he said, shutting the door against the cold. The walls of the mission house groaned as they withstood another blast of icy wind. I watched Neil peel off his wet coat and scarf and hand them to Miss Ida, who looked in dismay at the puddle that formed around him. She looked like she wanted to scold him, but said, “Stand in front of the stove, Doctor MacNeill, and thaw out. You’d like some coffee?” “How about a hot grog?” Neil asked, rubbing his hands together. Miss Ida didn’t even look at him. “Cream and sugar?” Neil laughed. “Just sugar.” “Will you share our breakfast, Neil?” asked Miss Alice. “I had some biscuits at home, thanks.” “Left-over and hard, I imagine,” said Ida, setting a steaming mug at an empty place across from me. “Have some fresh ones. There’s sausage gravy - and eggs, too” “You’ve twisted my arm,” Neil winked at Miss Ida as he took the seat she’d indicated. “How’d Charlie do in the snow?” David asked. “There were some tough spots, but he managed all right.” Neil glanced out the window. “If this keeps up, we’ll be snowed in by nightfall.” I sat bolt upright. “But we have to leave for El Pano in the morning!” “Don’t panic, Christy,” said Neil. “We’ll make it to El Pano.” Neil’s confidence was reassuring, but I shuddered at the thought of anything stopping me from making my trip to Asheville. Neil calmly finished a biscuit. “Still, it would be wise to get out of the Cove before it gets worse.” “Why don’t the two of thee leave today and stay the night at Mrs. Tatum’s?” Miss Alice suggested. “Jeb’s taking Ida and me over this afternoon,” said David. They were going home to Pennsylvania for the holidays. “I’m sure there’d be room in the sled for you two.” “That’s exactly what I had in mind,” Neil said. “Will that do for you, Christy?” I nodded. I didn’t care when we left Cutter Gap, so long as I was in Asheville for Christmas! Neil sopped up the last of the gravy from his plate with a biscuit and popped it into his mouth. He drained his coffee mug, then stood. “I need to go home and pack.” I walked with Neil to the door. “You’re sure you can get away from the Cove?” “Quite sure. Alice can handle any emergencies.” He grinned. “Besides, I think I deserve a vacation.” I thought about his recorded one hundred and seventy-four night calls and his attentiveness to more than fifty typhoid patients. Yes, he certainly deserved a vacation. I returned Neil’s smile, and was surprised at the broadening of his. “I’ll see you around noon, then.” He reached for the doorknob, then turned back to me. “Thanks again for inviting me to Asheville, Christy.” That Neil made no effort to hide his gratitude and eagerness was new to me. He was seldom this transparent, and his inability now to contain his feelings made me realize how excited he was about our trip. I wondered just how often Neil was at the receiving end of a kind deed. His boyish enthusiasm told me I had done the right thing in inviting him along. ========== “Christy, what are you doing up there? We need to leave!” Neil’s voice boomed from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m coming!” Suitcase in hand, I rushed from my room. I was so bundled up I could hardly move. A thick scarf kept me from moving my neck, and it was hard to bend my knees because of the flannel underclothes I wore beneath my warmest stockings. My arms stuck out from my body like a ridiculous snowman. As I carefully maneuvered the stairs, my suitcase broke off from the handle and clattered to the floor. Somehow the clasps came unfastened, and the contents of the suitcase - chiefly undergarments - spilled at Neil’s feet. Horrified, I waddled down the stairs as quickly as I could and bent to pack the unmentionables out of sight. I didn’t dare take the time to pack the chemises, bloomers, stockings and corset as neatly as they had been. I thought only of throwing them in my suitcase and clasping it shut. “You forgot one.” Neil dangled a long brown stocking in front of my face. I didn’t make eye contact with Neil as I snatched the stocking from him. Neil’s deep laughter rumbled out of him. “I assure you, Miss Prudence, there is nothing inappropriate about a stocking - especially not a thick, brown wool one!” I kept my face down so that Neil wouldn’t see my flame-hot cheeks, and also because I was too annoyed to look at him. Perhaps it was absurd for me to be so embarrassed. Neil had, after all, seen me in various states of undress when I was ill. But now that our relationship was no longer that of doctor and patient, I found myself succumbing to old pruderies. Ladies’ undergarments were not for the eyes of men. And brown woolen stockings aside, it was certainly not gentlemanly of Neil to laugh at my embarrassment. His laughter died as he straightened himself up, and started for the door. Realizing that I had not moved from where I knelt on the floor, he cried, “Well, come on, Christy! David and Ida have a train to catch!” I stuffed the remainder of my underclothes into the suitcase and scurried outside after Neil, he was already helping Jeb and David load the baggage. The snowfall had let up a bit, and Miss Alice stood near the sled, looking on at the preperations. “This, Miss Huddleston, is the finest sled in these mountains!” she said. Jeb Spencer’s drag sled was actually a makeshift sleigh. He had rigged a buckboard and wagon bed to the runners of an old sled. Along each side of the bed he had attached a long board for passengers, and in the middle was ample room to load goods - trunks and suitcases, in our case - for transport. The sled was not much in the way of looks, but it was a clever invention on Jeb’s part, and served his needs. And today it was our only means of getting to El Pano. “Come on, Christy,” Neil gently tugged my elbow. “Into the sled.” “Just a minute.” I turned to Miss Alice. “I feel so badly that all of us are leaving you at Christmas time.” “I will not be alone, Christy,” she said. “I have told thee already!” “Don’t you be worryin’ about Miz Alice,” said Jeb, grinning down from the buckboard. “She threw a mighty fine play-party last year. I reckon she aims to do it again.” “You see?” Miss Alice’s eyes sparkled beneath her finely arched brows. “Mr. Spencer does not doubt my ability to make merry on my own!” She embraced me and kissed my forehead. “May you have a lovely Christmas, my dear.” “Merry Christmas, Miss Alice.” Neil helped Miss Ida into the sled, then chuckled at me. “You’ll never get up there, you’re so bundled up!” He lifted me into the sleigh. I chose a seat across from Miss Ida. Neil sat down next to me and pulled a blanket over our laps. “Will you be warm enough?” he asked. “There’s another blanket if you want it.” “I’m fine.” “What about you, Ida?” “No thank you, Doctor MacNeill,” she replied in her prim voice. She was even more bundled up than I was, and her hands were tucked into a rather old-fashioned moleskin muff. I thought it was very ugly, but Miss Ida held it ostentatiously in front of her. I thought I ought to compliment it. “I think my aunt has a muff like that, Miss Ida.” I didn’t mention that it had been in my aunt’s attic for years, moth-eaten, but it was the nicest thing I could say about the muff. “It belonged to my great-great grandmother,” she replied, and pursed her lips in an a pinched-looking smile. I couldn’t help but picture a shrew - maybe because the stocking cap she wore covered her hair, accentuating her large, long nose that protruded from her narrow face. “Take care, Alice,” David said climbing up beside Jeb on the buckboard. “Godspeed to you all!” Miss Alice called. “Yah! Git now!” Jeb cried, clucking the reins on the mules’ backs. The sled lurched forward. “Hang on to your britches,” he called back to us. “Hit’s gonna be a bumpy ride!” Part Four The mission house disappeared behind us as we rode through the snowy forest. I drank in the white world, not believing that a natural phenomenon as beautiful as snow could trap people inside their own houses or keep a train bound motionless on its tracks. “I get so tired of snow,” David was saying to Jeb. “I like to be outdoors, and I nearly go crazy in the winter.” “Thar’s plenty to do in the snow,” Jeb replied. “You ever snowshoe?” “I’m a baseball man myself,” said David. He moved his arms as if holding a bat and took a swing. “Baseball’s my true love. Come summer, we ought to start a league here in the Cove.” “Don’t reckon I know much about baseball,” said Jeb, and David launched into a detailed description of the sport. During the ride, I had turned half-way around in my seat to get an unobstructed view of the scenery. I felt a hand on my back. “What are you thinking about?” Neil asked, his face close to mine. “I was thinking how much I'd like to build a snowman.” I’d spoken without thinking, but Neil responded with a chuckle that made me realize what a juvenile statement I’d just made. “We could do that when we get to Mrs. Tatum’s.” Neil’s voice had a lilt to it, and not a note of condescension. He leaned back against the the sled, stretching his arms out. “Jeb mentioned snowshoeing. There’s nothing like a snowshoe hike through these mountains.” “I’ve never snowshoed,” I replied. “It sounds like fun.” “I’ll teach you. You’d like it, Christy. You see some beautiful -” The brays of the mules interrupted him, and the sled rocked a little. “Easy, boys,” Jeb encouraged the mules, then called to us, “Hang on back there - this here pass’s mighty rough.” I looked around. We were on a much narrower path now, and in places rocks jutted out from the snow. Up until now the ride had been smooth, the sled gliding over the snow like a skater on a frozen pond. Now bumps in the path jostled us against the sides of the sled. Neil moved a little closer to me and slid his arm around my shoulders. I looked up at him questioningly , and he casually replied, “Can’t have you thrown about.” I didn’t protest. Neil’s arm around me cushioned the jolting. I heard the faintest “humph” from Miss Ida, who tucked a blanket between herself and the back of her seat. As we rode on, I relaxed against Neil. I fit nicely in the crook of his arm and felt so comfortable that I didn’t even trouble myself about Miss Ida’s disapproving scowl. ========== We arrived in El Pano in better time than I expected, though there had been times that I was sure we would never make it across some of those terrifying ice passes. Once or twice the mules lost their footing, but Jeb remained calm and encouraged them back onto the safe ground. However, I was relieved when we reached the little town, despite Jeb’s skilled handling of the sled. At the train station, David hopped down from the sled and pulled a few dollar bills from his pocket. “Here,” he said, handing them to Jeb. “Naw, Preacher,” Jeb protested. “I can’t be takin’ none of your money.” “It’s for the mules - they deserve some extra oats after the trip they’ve made today.” “Oats don’t be costin’ that much,” said Jeb, his thick mustache drooping with a frown. “No, but the rest of it is to pay you for the day’s wages you gave up. You should have been in Lyleton selling honey and pelts, not driving my sister and me all over these mountains.” Now a slow grin crossed Jeb’s face. “You beat all, Preacher. It’s too much money, but you give me no cause to turn it down.” He took the bills from the smiling David. “I’m obliged,” he said, shoving the money into the pocket of his overalls. David’s tactful way of getting Jeb to accept money brought a smile to my face. Since the typhoid epidemic, he had at last begun to establish friendships with the mountain men. I was so happy to see David finding a sense of purpose in the Cove. The three men began to unload luggage from the bed of the sleigh. “Ida,” David said to his sister. “Why don’t you wait for me inside the depot where it’s warm?” “I’ll keep you company,” I told her. We briskly walked the few yards to the small station house and stood before the pot-bellied stove inside. I watched Miss Ida remove her gloves and chafe her hands. Her normally sallow skin was red with cold. It was then I noticed that my own fingers tingled as the warmth of the stove penetrated their numbness. “What do your parents think about you bringing Doctor MacNeill to their home?” Miss Ida asked as I took off my gloves. Her stony gaze froze me from an immediate response. “Well, I- “ I stammered. “I didn’t get a chance to telephone them again -” Miss Ida looked patronizingly down her long nose at me. “I’m sure they’ll be rather surprised to see you stepping off the train with a man.” I started to respond, but she droned on, disinterestedly, “You do realize they’ll think the Doctor is your fiance?” No one could make such an assumption! Again Miss Ida interrupted my attempt at a protest. “Oh, you’ll be able to clear up the misunderstanding,” she said. “But it will be a little more difficult to convince anyone that Doctor MacNeill is not very seriously courting you.” “But he’s not courting me at all!” I cried with a gasp. I felt as though I’d had the wind knocked out of me, and my heart pounded wildly. Ida shrugged nonchalantly. “Appearances, Miss Huddleston, often negate the truth.” Another blow. “Appearances?” I managed to repeat. “Excessive attention and any kind of physical contact are generally associated with courtship.” Physical contact. Neil had put his arm around me on the sled, but he hadn’t intended it as romantic gesture. Still, I wondered if Miss Ida had a point. Intentions weren’t clear to everyone. I would have to be more careful if I didn’t want people to start forming wrong impressions about my relationship with Neil. “Of course, many people don’t worry about other people’s impressions or opinions.” Miss Ida looked directly in my eyes. The severe lines of her face were even harder than usual. “But as a mission schoolteacher, I’m sure you want to avoid every appearance of evil.” All warmth left my body, and an icy feeling gripped my stomach. “Evil?” “Do you think it’s entirely appropriate for you and Doctor MacNeill to spend the night together at a boarding house?” Miss Ida’s insinuation was so ridiculous that I laughed. “Miss Alice suggested it. And we’ll be in separate rooms.” Miss Ida shrugged again and turned back to the fire. “Most people will get word only that you and the Doctor spent the night in El Pano before you left for Asheville.” “That’s not the way it is!” I exclaimed. “But that’s the way gossip is,” countered Miss Ida. “I’m just warning you. The truth is not always what people hear - or choose to believe.” The warmth that had left me returned, flooding my face. “Then that’s not my problem!” My fingernails dug into my palms where I’d unconsciously balled my hands into fists. “It’s not your fault.” Miss Ida was sickeningly calm. “But it is your problem.” I wanted to shout at her, but I could not. She was right. I hadn’t thought through these aspects of the situation. Everyone would misread my intentions toward Dr. MacNeill - perhaps even he had. I’d done something horribly wrong, but I couldn’t undo it. I turned away from Miss Ida and ran to the door. Blindly I stepped off the platform and started for Jeb’s sled, only to encounter David. “Whoa there,” he said, grasping me by the shoulders. “What’s the matter? Ida make you mad? You’re red as a beet!” His face told me he was only joking, but Miss Ida’s words haunted me. I shrugged away from his touch, lest anyone think I was behaving inappropriately with the minister as well as Dr. MacNeill. “It’s nothing,” I said. “I just got too warm inside.” “I’d rather be too warm than as cold as I am right now,” David said. He shivered and pulled his coat closer around himself. “In fact, I think I’ll go get too warm right now.” I watched him enter the depot, then sat down on the porch. Within seconds, Jeb and Dr. MacNeill approached me. “Are you all right, Christy?” the Doctor asked. His forehead was etched with his physician’s concern. “You look tired.” “I am tired,” I said. “It’s been a long day.” I’d hoped Dr. MacNeill would accept my explanation, but he didn’t. He reached out and touched my forehead. “You look a little flushed.” “I stood too close to the stove,” I argued, flinching away from him. “I’m fine, I promise.” Dr. MacNeill frowned but didn’t press me further, but his penetrating gaze never let go of my eyes. I remembered he’d once said, “Your eyes are very expressive, Miss Huddleston. They tell me you don’t believe me.” I quickly dropped my eyes, afraid that he would see my thoughts. The shrill train whistle pierced the cold, silent air, and the train conductor shouted, “All aboard!” “That’s us, Ida,” I heard David say inside the station house. He strode out onto the platform, Miss Ida at his heels. “Thanks again for the ride, Jeb. You take care.” He nodded to Neil. “Doc,” he said with a quick handshake. Then he turned to me. “Merry Christmas, Christy.” He held out his arms for a hug, but I hesitated under Miss Ida’s stern eye. David caught me in a bear hug anyway. “I’ll tell Santa Claus you wouldn’t hug me. He’ll put coal in your stocking for not being nice.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Merry Christmas, David.” The train whistle blew again. “Come on, David,” Miss Ida nagged. “The train won’t wait for you to make your jokes.” “Okay, I’m coming,” David said. “Bye, all!” Miss Ida only smiled her wooden smile, then followed her brother inside the train car. The whistle blew for the third time, and the train chugged into motion. I watched the black smoke rise from the stack and dance with the graceful white snowflakes. My attention was diverted by a gentle tug on my arm. It was Neil. “Let’s go on to Mrs. Tatum’s,” he said. “You’ve been out in this cold much too long.” I walked slowly behind the Doctor, but he waited for me at the sled, then helped me up. I remained standing in the bed till he sat down, then took the seat across from him. His eyes flashed as if he didn’t understand, but I didn’t move next to him. I hated to hurt him, but I couldn’t deny what Ida said about appearances and impressions. It had to be this way. Jeb clucked the mules into a trot, and the sled quietly sped along the snow-covered road to Mrs. Tatum’s boarding house. Part Five It was not Mrs. Tatum who answered her boarding house door, but a lanky man who was unfamiliar to me. “Leroy,” Neil greeted the man. “Haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?” The man responded with a nod. “Have you met Christy Huddleston?” The man stared blankly at me for a moment, then said in a sluggish drawl, “I seen her here one time.” There had been several of Mrs. Tatum’s family members at the boarding house that night, but I couldn’t remember any of their faces. I’d been too preoccupied with my unexpected circumstances to take any special notice of the strangers. “This is Mr. Tatum,” Neil explained, as though reading my thoughts. I still didn’t remember Mr. Tatum. He hadn’t said a word to me that first visit. “Is Hetty here?” Neil asked. “Yon.” Mr. Tatum nodded over his shoulder, indicating the inside of the house. “Fixin’ supper.” I expected to be invited inside, but Mr. Tatum leaned lazily against the doorframe. His taciturn manners reminded me of my early encounters with the mountain people. How uncomfortable it had been to establish relationships with people who resented outsiders. Or others, who were simply indifferent to my presence, as Mr. Tatum appeared to be now, his cheek swollen with a chew of tobacco. A sharp gust of wind sent a flurry of snow onto the porch. The cold penetrated my layers of clothing, and I began to shiver. Neil glanced at me and frowned. “Are there any rooms available?” he asked Mr. Tatum. For a moment Mr. Tatum didn’t seem to hear Neil. When he finally did speak, his only words were, “What’s that?” Neil’s eyes widened in frustration. “Miss Huddleston and I need rooms for the night.” Another dazed response from Mrs. Tatum’s husband. Neil clutched his hair, just as Mr. Tatum turned and retreated into the house. “I’ll tell Hetty.” Neil nudged me toward the door, which Mr. Tatum had left standing open. “Go on in.” My feet were rooted to the porch. “He didn’t ask us.” “Are you waiting for a written invitation?” His voice was tinged with that domineering note. “Surely you’ve seen by now that Leroy Tatum isn’t exactly brimming with hospitable chatter.” “I’m just not used to walking into people’s houses without a word of permission,” I said, shying away from the light touch of his hand on my back as he directed me inside. “You’ve lived in Cutter Gap for nearly a year. I know you’re aware that mountain manners aren’t like Asheville ones.” He was right, of course, but my close friendships with Fairlight Spencer and Opal McHone, and the acceptance I’d gained from other Cove families sometimes made me forget that I couldn’t expect the same warm receptions from families I didn’t know as well. As soon as we were inside Mrs. Tatum’s living room, Neil hovered over me. “You’re freezing,” he said. “I’m fine.” Neil helped me out of my coat, then took my hands and pulled off my gloves. “You’re not fine - your teeth are chattering.” He gently rubbed my hands between his large, calloused ones. “Your hands are cold, too,” I said, moving closer to the fire - away from him. For a moment Neil stood still, his hands hanging at his sides. The bewildered look in his eyes sent a twinge of guilt through me, and I was about to apologize, when the kitchen door swung open and Mrs. Tatum bustled through it. “Well, this shorely explains things,” she said. “Ole Leroy came into the kitchen mumblin’ sompthin’ about Doc. Couldn’t make it out a-tall, so I come in here to see what he was about.” As I listened to Mrs. Tatum, whose booming voice seemed to fill every corner of the large house, I recalled the first time I’d seen her. Then I’d been taken with what a large woman she was, but she seemed even more so now, beside Neil. She was only an inch or two shorter than the Doctor, and her shoulders were nearly as broad as his. But despite her masculine build, she had the fussy compassion of a great-aunt; with her mousy hair knotted at her neck and her wide calico apron, she very much looked the part of a woman in charge of a boarding house. “You headed out, Doc? Or on your way back into the Cove?” Not waiting for an answer, she clucked her tongue. “Snowin’ sompthin'’ fierce out there. I’m glad you pulled in here - can’t abide a body bein’ out in such weather.” “Miss Huddleston and I are on our way to Asheville tomorrow morning,” Neil answered Mrs. Tatum’s first question. Mrs. Tatum peeked around Neil and saw me for the first time. “Well land sakes! I ain’t seen you in a spell! I won’t say I wasn’t surprised when you didn’t come cryin’ back here after a week in Cutter Gap. I looked for you nigh on a month, and when you didn’t come, I said to Mr. Tatum how you did have spunk and that maybe you’d make it outen there after all. I done heard them young’uns has took a liking to you, an’ that you and the preacher got Bird’s-Eye Taylor powerful riled up. And here you are, fine as frog hair! Only you’re rail thin, sugar. Ain’t them mission folks got enough food?” “I’ve been ill, that’s all.” “The typhoid.” Mrs. Tatum clucked her tongue again, this time ominously. She quickly brightened. “I heard you was took bad with it, and that Doc MacNeill wouldn’t leave your side all the time you was tetchious with fever.” I felt the color rise in my cheeks, and didn’t even look for Neil’s reaction. “Lordamercy!” Mrs. Tatum exclaimed. “Here I am blatherin’ when supper’s on the stove! Y’all need a room, I s’pose?” “Two,” I said. “We each need one.” Neil sniggered, and Mrs. Tatum cried, “I wasn’t thinkin’ of puttin’ you two up together! I run a Christian boarding house!” I was afraid I’d made her angry. “I - I thought -” Mrs. Tatum guffawed. “I know y’all ain’t hitched! Believe you me, that news woulda spread like wildfire acrost these mountains!” I was still blushing furiously as I followed Mrs. Tatum upstairs to her guest rooms. ========== That evening, as Neil and I ate supper with the Tatum family, Mrs. Tatum turned to me with worried eyes. “Honey, are you feelin’ alright? You’ve hardly touched your dumplins.” I took a big bite of the dumplings and tried to avoid Neil’s concerned gaze. “I’m just a slow eater,” I said. “And I sometimes loose my appetite after a day of traveling.” Mrs. Tatum gave her characteristic cluck of the tongue. “Nothin’ll take away an appetite like a trip through those twisty paths!” She chuckled. “If you ain’t hongry for your second helping, I’m sure the Doc’ll eat ‘em!” Neil grinned sheepishly up from his half-eaten bowl of dumplings. It was his second helping. “So y’all are headed Asheville-way?” Mrs. Tatum asked. “Aimin’ to be wed?” I shrank down in my chair. I wanted to hide under the table. Miss Ida had been right - I was sending a horribly false message by traveling with Neil. Why hadn’t I thought about that before I invited him along? Neil, however, didn’t appear to be at all uncomfortable with Mrs. Tatum’s nosy assumptions. He carefully chewed the bite of dumplings in his mouth, swallowed, took a long drink of water, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and said, “No. Miss Huddleston’s family graciously invited me to spend Christmas with them, since I have no family.” “Well, I don’t trouble myself with the talk that goes around. I heard one day that Doc’s courtin’ the schoolteacher, but the day before that folks was sayin’ she was the preacher’s gal. Me, I just saw wood and say nothin’.” “A whole lotta nothin’,” Mr. Tatum mumbled. “Hesh up, Leroy.” “Yore always sermonizin’ me to speak to you, and when I do, you tell me to hesh.” Mr. Tatum shook his head. “I don’t tell you to sass me when I got boarders,” Mrs. Tatum retorted. To me she said, “Find yourself a sivilized man, Miz Christy - not one that only opens his mouth to grumble and eat.” “I’ll keep that in mind, Mrs. Tatum,” I said, with all the lightness I could muster. Why all the talk about courting and husbands? This was only the second time I’d met Mrs. Tatum, but she seemed to have a deep desire to have me married. “Wal, so’s I don’t say something outa ignorance and offend you,” the boarding house owner said as she cleared the table, “is the preacher still courtin’ you?” I didn’t want to answer her. It wasn’t any of her business. But I didn’t want more gossip flying around these mountains. “No, he’s not.” Mrs. Tatum clucked her tongue. “Got a suitor back in Asheville?” My jaw was so stiff from gritting my teeth that I could only give a little nod. It was probably good that I couldn’t speak, because my voice would surely have had an edge to it. “Looks like it’s safe for you, Doc.” Mrs. Tatum swept into the kitchen. I didn’t want to, but I glanced at Neil for his reaction. As usual, his face revealed nothing. “How old are you? Eighteen?” Mrs. Tatum asked, bringing a pie out of the kitchen. “I’ll be twenty in a few days.” Mrs. Tatum shook her head as she cut a thick slice for Neil. He’d been eying it eagerly since she’d set it on the table. “You seem awful young to be twenty. But if it’s so... You’re a fair piece older’n I was when Leroy asked for my hand.” “I know lots of girls my age - and older - who aren’t married!” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished I’d just nodded and changed the subject. Of course my argument would only bait the nosy woman. “Has a feller ever asked you?” My eyes smarted. Why wouldn’t Mrs. Tatum leave me alone? In frustration I sputtered, “Yes.” All eyes were on me. Even Neil looked surprised. I couldn’t think why he would be, but then I realized I’d told no one of David’s proposal. I watched him for a moment. Something flickered in his eyes, but disappeared before I could identify it. Was he disappointed? Jealous? “You turned him down.” Mrs. Tatum’s black eyes were round. Not exactly, I thought, but nodded. “And you near twenty year old!” Mrs. Tatum looked thoroughly appalled. “Gal-wimmen only get one chance at marryin’ a good man, but some’s got notions or are just plain uppity-” I sprang from my chair. My voice trembled as I said, “I’d rather be an old maid than marry the wrong man.” I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and my head throbbed. I wished I was at home in Asheville, or back at the mission. Anywhere but here with nosy Mrs. Tatum. “Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Tatum. Do you have a lamp? I’m going to get to bed now.” Mrs. Tatum’s brow went up. “So early? You don’t want to sit up and visit?” I shook my head. “I’m very tired, and we have an early train tomorrow.” Now Mrs. Tatum’s features sagged in sympathy. “I got water heatin’ for a bath. Won’t you soak in the tub for a while afore you go to bed? It’ll help you sleep better.” A bath sounded wonderful. I always took a bath to wash away my troubles. I nodded, the mere thought of one making me feel warm and relaxed and unworried. “Wal then, Leroy, you fill that tub in the kitchen and put up the curtain. And fetch our fluffiest towel and my special bath salts.” My annoyance toward Mrs. Tatum ebbed as her husband scurried off to carry out her orders. “Oh no, you don’t have to-” “I always take good care of my boarders.” Mrs. Tatum patted my hand. “And you need someone lookin’ after you away out here.” Mrs. Tatum really was a good-hearted woman. How could I stay angry at her? ========== When I awoke the next morning, I couldn’t remember where I was. I lay still under the covers of the strange bed, trying to remember. I spied my small carpet bag on the bureau across the room. Oh yes - Mrs. Tatum’s boarding house in El Pano! Today was Christmas Eve! Soon I would be in Asheville with my family! I sprang from the bed. My sound night’s sleep had left me refreshed and eager to start this day. I was startled by a soft knock on my door. “Christy?” came Neil’s muffled voice from the hallway. I clutched my robe around me and cracked the door. “Good morning.” “Morning,” Neil replied, looking rather nervous. “What’s wrong?” A sudden panic rushed over me. “What time is it, Neil? Did I oversleep? Did we miss the train?” “There’s no train, Christy.” I stared at him, uncomprehending. “We’re snowed in.” Part Six I pleaded and reasoned and tried to convince Neil that there must to be some way for us to get to Asheville. He assured me that there was not, but smiled sympathetically and touched my chin saying he’d see to it that we’d have a merry Christmas, despite the change of plans. I should have been cheered by Neil, but I didn’t want to be. All my life my parents had sheltered my brother and me from disappointments by making the best of every situation. Neil’s doing so only reminded me that I was not with my family, and that I wouldn’t been seeing them for much longer than I’d anticipated. Dear Father... I knew he would be as disappointed I was. Absently I made my way across the cold, sparse bedroom and peered out the window. A barren white field stretched before me. The tiny frame houses looked very small indeed, with the snow piled up high around them. If it had not been for the train station down the road from the boarding house, I would have no idea there was a railway running through the town, for the tracks were completely buried under several feet of snow. The sight of the snow-covered village of El Pano - my only link to home - was more than I could bear. I flung myself on the bed and cried myself into exhausted slumber. ========== I awoke several hours later, groggy and with a dull headache. I had a pit in my stomach, too; it was a long time since I’d eaten. A look in the mirror revealed a splotchy white face and red-rimmed eyes. I splashed my face with icy water from the basin then, shivering, dressed as quickly as I could. I brushed and braided my hair, then dusted my face with a light layer of powder, which improved my tear-stained complexion considerably. I opened the bedroom door, and was startled to find myself face-to-face with Neil. His arm was in the air, poised to knock. “I was afraid I was going to have to drag you out of bed,” he said, grinning. He grabbed my hand. “Come on, I have something to show you.” Neil kept a firm grip on my hand as we quickly descended the stairs. At least one of us was in a good mood. What could he possibly have to show me? In the center of the living room stood a fir tree. It had a fine spread of branches and nearly touched the ceiling. “Neil, what-” “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a Christmas tree,” Neil said. “Of course I have. But where did you - how?” Neil laughed his deep, rich laugh. “We’re surrounded by trees, Christy. I just strapped on a pair of snowshoes and hiked out there with an axe.” His face became serious. “I hope this one will do for you.” “For me?” I walked over to the tree and drank in the clean scent of the pine needles. The Huddleston family had found some beautiful trees for our Christmases, but never one so healthy and full as this one. “It’s perfect,” I murmured, turning back to Neil. He looked very pleased. “I’d hoped it would be,” he said. “And we’re going to decorate it.” Now I was really surprised. “With what?” “Miss Huddleston,” Neil said, “I found a tree, didn’t I? Don’t you think I have a few more tricks up my sleeve?” I smiled, but I didn’t want to be cheerful. Maybe Neil had found a Christmas tree, but that could hardly make up for my missed trip to Asheville. “I think I’ll have some breakfast first.” I excused myself and went into the kitchen. “You shorely slept late,” said Mrs. Tatum upon my entrance. “I’ll bet you’re hongry.” “Starving.” I sat down at the table and poured myself a cup of coffee. “Ol' Doc’s got some courtin’ planned today!” Mrs. Tatum boomed as she served me a plate heaping with ham and eggs. “Courting?” I nearly choked on my coffee. Mrs. Tatum clucked her tongue. “Why yes, child! He come in here early this mornin’, talking’ about how sad you was ‘bout gettin’ snowed in... Said he was bound and determined to see you had a happy Christmas.” I fingered the end of my braid. “Did he?” “Shorely did! Then he went out and drug that tree in here.” Mrs. Tatum stood with her hands on her hips. “Now I heard of men courtin’ with flowers, but trees? I had to laugh. “Mrs. Tatum, Christmas trees are a holiday tradition!” “I know that! But I swear, it ain’t traditions that’s on Doc MacNeill’s mind today.” She gave me a sly grin. “Unless it’s mistletoe.” The legs of my chair screeched on the hard wood floor as I jumped up from the table and put my dishes in the wash basin. “Breakfast was great,” I said, then darted out of the room. I stood in the hallway between the kitchen and living room for a moment. Was Mrs. Tatum just being a busybody again, or was Neil really courting me? Mrs. Tatum’s words about the mistletoe haunted me. Surely Neil would not be so bold - not when I’d never confessed to him mutual romantic feelings. As Miss Alice had said, Neil was a careful man. But just as I took a step down the hall, I was frozen by another thought. Mrs. Tatum was not the only person to comment about something more than friendship between Neil and me; only yesterday I’d had that sickening conversation with Miss Ida about the same thing. What was I to do? I didn’t even know what to think. How could I when I had so many people giving me their thoughts about it? At that moment, I became aware of a smell wafting from the parlor. It was a familiar smell of something cooking over an open fire, but before I could identify it, the hall door swung open. “Are you ready to help me decorate the tree?” Neil asked. “I’ve got corn popping - for stringing.” The troubling questions in my mind were replaced with a new one. “Where on earth did you get popping corn?” “I told you I had a few tricks up my sleeve, Neil said with a chuckle. “Does that mean you’re not going to tell me?” I asked. I seated myself on a hooked rug in front of the fire. “Isn’t it more fun for that to be my secret?” “Fun for you, maybe.” I reached into a large bowl of fluffy popcorn. “Here.” Neil handed me a ball of twine and a needle, then sat on the hearth. “You’re certainly prepared,” I commented, fixing my attention on threading my needle. “Here are some cranberries, too.” Several long minutes passed as we silently strung the popcorn. It was a comfortable silence, and I realized how I'd come to enjoy Neil's silences as much as Miss Alice's. He was stringing much faster than I was. Presently he said, without looking up from his work, “I don’t think I’ve ever done this.” “Strung popcorn?” “That, too,” Neil said. “I was referring more to celebrating Christmas in general.” I looked up at him for an explanation. Still intent on his string of popcorn and cranberries, he said, “I mean, growing up I always participated in the Cove tradition shooting rifles off on Christmas Eve. And Margaret and I had some nice Christmases, but after she died... There didn’t seem to be much point in celebrating alone.” He poked his needle through another piece of popcorn, only to have it crumble. He popped the bits into his mouth. “I went to Alice’s party last year, but - I didn’t understand then. This is my first Christmas to really be able to celebrate.” I must have looked very surprised at his comment, because Neil leaned forward and asked, very softly, “Don’t you know, Christy?” I wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “That you’ve-” “Become a Christian,” Neil finished for me. “I heard you pray,” I said. “I wondered when you were going to tell me about it.” Neil shifted his eyes and twisted the twine around his index finger. “I’m sorry - it’s just all so new to me.” It was new to me, too. This was first time I’d spoken with a new Christian about his faith. I knew I should be encouraging, welcome him to the fold, but found myself at a loss for words. This was not the scientific man who had challenged me about my faith that day in my schoolroom. Then he’d been so calm and sure as he stated that God didn’t concern himself with people. Now he was almost timid as he struggled to discuss the faith he’d come to accept. “I can’t even explain it,” Neil said, “except that God was suddenly real. I knew that He really did concern himself about people.” He looked up at me earnestly. “Have you ever felt that way, Christy? That He’s just... there?” I nodded. “I was lost when Fairlight died. I wondered if you were right about God after all. But He just came to me one morning, and I knew for the first time that He was love.” “It’s so much more than just believing the stories, isn’t it?” said Neil. “I was raised on the Bible. And Alice - she tried to share the Gospel with Margaret and me so many times.” “Real belief comes from God,” I said, wondering at how truths I’d never before grasped had suddenly become clear. “Alice showed me a verse about that: ‘For it is by grace you have been saved.’ I could have heard a hundred times, but it took the voice of God for me to believe it.” Neil had such a simple, trusting way of explaining his new-found faith. It was real, based on deep personal experience. I realized these were the things that had drawn me to Miss Alice. “Christy,” Neil’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “I want to apologize for - for being so arrogant and questioning your faith.” I knew he referred to the day in the schoolhouse, and inwardly I smiled that we both remembered that day so vividly. “That was a long time ago, Neil,” I said. “I know.” He picked up the poker and jabbed at the logs in the fireplace. “But I want to... resolve the past. You did walk out on me pretty angry that day.” He grinned, and I laughed. “You were rather frustrating.” I looked down at my short string of popcorn and cranberries. “Your questioning did me more good than harm, you know. I would never have found my own faith if you hadn’t pointed out that I was just riding on Miss Alice’s coattails.” “Then I guess we’ve both helped each other find our faith, haven’t we?” I looked up into Neil’s face. His lips curved in a gentle smile, and his eyes shone with admiration and respect. “I hope you know, Christy, that you’ve challenged me as much as I’ve challenged you.” “Have I?” I felt myself blushing under his intense gaze, but I was unable to pull myself away from the hold his eyes had on me. “You have.” His voice was very soft. He reached out and took my hand. I thought of the day he’d taken my hand on the ride home from Ruby Mae Beck’s. “Thank you for coming to Cutter Gap.” He gently squeezed my hand. This time I did not pull it away. Part Seven “No wonder you haven’t made any progress, Christy!” Neil exclaimed. “You’re putting more popcorn in your mouth than on that piece of twine.” I was about to protest, when I realized I was guilty as charged. My mouth was full of popcorn. I hadn’t even realized I’d been eating it. I observed Neil’s long string of popcorn, with bright red cranberries between every few pieces, then studied my own, barely longer than a foot and a half. “I like popcorn,” I said. “I can see that,” Neil replied, moving the nearly-empty bowl away from me. “Guess it’s about time to pop some more.” He poured a cupful of corn kernels into a skillet, then held it over the fire. “Next time we do this, remind me to pop a bowl for you to eat, and another just for stringing.” Next time. Neil’s words caused another lapse in my popcorn-stringing as I realized he was thinking of future Christmases together. Did he mean as friends, or as more than friends, or... as a married couple? I was getting ahead of myself. But even if he did mean the latter, if we were as comfortable as we were now... I had to admit it would be a very happy Christmas. Morning melted pleasantly into afternoon as Neil and I made our popcorn and cranberry strings. When at last Neil declared we had enough, and I’d eaten more than my fill of popcorn, he produced sheets of crisp white paper and two pairs of gleaming scissors. “What next?” I asked. “Snowflakes.” I shook my head. “I had no idea you were so interested in arts and crafts.” “I’m interested in many things of which you’re not aware.” My scissors paused mid-air. What did that mean? He bent low over the snowflake he was making, hiding his face from me. Then I understood. He meant he was interested in me. My heart beat a little faster. For a while the only sounds in the room were the crackling of the logs on the fire and the soft clip of the scissors. The smell of popcorn lingered in the air. I wished I had some more. I watched Neil, bent intently over his work, surrounded by snowflakes. “How do you do that?” “Do what?” “Make them so perfectly!” Neil examined his snowflake, then shrugged. “I don’t see anything special about it.” I held up mine, which looked rather more like an ugly doily than a snowflake. “Yours are beautiful - like lace!” Neil grinned sheepishly and cut another sharp curve in the folded white paper. “Maybe it’s my physician’s attention to detail.” “Maybe. Or maybe you practice making paper snowflakes.” “Why would I do that?” “So you could show off. To impress me.” Had I just flirted with Neil? I was a little surprised at how easily the playful words had tumbled from my mouth. It felt natural and... right... to flirt with him. “If I’d known that’s all it took to impress you-” Neil chuckled, then studied me for a moment. “Are you impressed?” His expression was so incredulous it was all I could do to contain the laughter that had come unbidden. I struggled against the smile that tugged at my lips. I was impressed with Neil - and touched that he’d gone to so much effort to help me have an enjoyable Christmas Eve. “Not really,” I said. “But I’m green with envy.” Neil threw back his head and laughed. I decided that I liked his laugh. It was so rich and full, like he was laughing from his soul. He sprang from his seat and pulled me up from my spot on the floor. “Come on - let’s get these on the tree.” While I gathered the snowflakes, Neil began to hum. I listened for a moment, then recognized “O Christmas Tree”. I remembered from Ruby Mae’s wedding that he sang very well. “Sing out loud,” I requested. “You have a wonderful voice.” “Only if you’ll sing with me.” “Oh no!” “Why not?” “Because I have a terrible voice.” “I doubt that,” Neil said. “Well, it’s not awful, but not nearly as good as yours.” “Sing with me?” Defeated, I grinned at him and joined in as we strung our garland through the branches of the tree. “O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how lovely are your branches...” “You’re doing great!” Neil said after a few verses. We started another song, and not far into it, he slipped into harmony. Music flowed through his veins as it seemed to flow through most of the mountain people. I was so spellbound by his rich voice, that I didn’t pay my own singing enough attention. Neil suddenly winced, and I realized I was terribly off key. “Sorry.” “If you couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket I’d still want to sing with you,” he said. He gave me that look again, that one that usually made me feel so self-conscious. This time it didn’t make me feel that way. I suddenly wanted to be alone. “Neil,” I said, “I think I want to go lie down for a while.” His forehead creased in concern. “I’m just a little tired from all the excitement,” I told him. “A nap should do the trick.” Before he could utter another word, I was up the stairs and in my room. Why did I run from him? I asked the reflection in the small frame mirror that hung on the bedroom wall. Neil hadn’t done anything. Or had he? There was no mistaking that he’d flirted with me. Was that why I’d run away? Was I frightened? He’d flirted with me before, I realized, and I’d never been frightened. I’d even been flirting back. And the feeling I’d had when he gazed so deeply into my eyes - it wasn’t fear. With a heavy sigh I sank back onto the bed. I only wished I knew what that feeling was - and why it hadn’t gone away. ========== A gentle knocking, then a voice, stirred my senses from light sleep. “You feelin’ poorly, child?” Mrs. Tatum asked. “Just a little sleepy,” I replied. The bed creaked as she sat on the edge of the mattress. “Doc told me you up and run out on him. You wanna tell ol’ Hetty about it?” What had Neil said to Mrs. Tatum? That he’d flirted and I ran away? Had he sent her up here? No, that wasn’t Neil’s way, unless he was worried about my physical condition. But I certainly didn’t want to talk to Mrs. Tatum about it. She was genuinely concerned about me and had a mothering way about her, but if I said one word about why I’d run from Neil, she’d tell him in minutes. I shrugged my shoulders. “There’s nothing to tell.” “You can’t be hidin’ nothing from this woman’s eyes,” Mrs. Tatum said. “I know I overstep myself sometimes, and I’m sorry if I’ve vexed you, but there’s just sometimes I gotta say what’s what.” She rose from the bed and stood before me. “You’re a fine gal, Miz Christy, but you shorely don’t know much about love.” “I-” “Maybe it’s your city up-bringin’.” She shook her head. “But I know you know that man downstairs is head-over-heels in love with you. And you’re in love with him, too. “Mrs. Tatum, I-” That strange feeling I’d had - could it be love? “You’re confused, child,” said Mrs. Tatum. “It’s cause you’re so young. And I’m guessin’ you’re also scared. “Why would I be scared?” I asked. “Beats me!” Mrs. Tatum cried. “You shouldn’t be scared, honey - love ain’t nothin’ to be afeard of. Ain’t no shame in it. And don’t be fearin’ the Doc, neither. He’s a good man. A gal couldn’t ask for no one finer.” She clucked her tongue. “But if you’re just confused, then stop thinkin’ so much.” This was the same advice Miss Alice had given me, I mused. “You’re a gal,” Mrs. Tatum continued, gesturing excitedly with her arms. “You like the things other gals like. Just let Doc court you - he shorely is a hand at it - and you’ll soon stop frettin’.” Mrs. Tatum’s idea made sense - especially if I was falling in love with Neil. What did I have to lose? “Now child, tonight’s your chance to start.” “Start?” “The sooner the better! Doc told me himself he’s got another surprise for you.” Mrs. Tatum threw open my steamer trunk and began to rummage through my carefully-packed clothes. “Ah, just the one!” Mrs. Tatum held up a deep blue taffeta dress - one I’d brought to the Cove but never worn. It was rather plain by Asheville standards, and looked a little old-fashioned, but Mother had always said the trim bodice and slightly full skirt complimented my too-slender figure. The long, straight sleeves had big white cuffs which matched the trim at the neck and shoulders. “Wear that,” said Mrs. Tatum with a cluck of her tongue, “and ol’ Doc won’t be able to keep his eyes off you!” I felt the color rising to my cheeks, as she continued, “You oughta leave your hair down, too - just pull a little up. Menfolk always like that.” Suddenly the hilarity of the situation hit me. If I didn’t take initiative, Hetty Tatum would surely take it for me! I nearly laughed aloud, but managed to hold it in. “Mrs. Tatum,” I said wickedly, “I thought I was the one who needed help falling in love.” Mrs. Tatum stared at me for several long seconds, than broke into her boisterous laughter. “Then maybe I should go down and see if the Doc needs any help pickin’ out fine wearin-clothes.” She winked at me, then left me to dress. I sat on the bed, clutching the pretty blue dress against me. I fingered the white trim on the bodice. If Neil really had been courting me all day, letting him continue to do so sounded like a rather nice idea. ========== By the time I descended the stairs, however, my nerves began to get the better of me. I had a vision of Miss Ida’s perpetual look of disapproval deepening as she scrutinized every last inch of me. I wore the blue dress, and in spite of Mrs. Tatum’s advice, I’d arranged my hair up in a dressy style with mother-of-pearl combs. I gave every appearance of trying to “catch” Dr. MacNeill. Miss Ida had warned me against inappropriate appearances. It was hardly conventional for Neil and me to be snowed in a boarding house together. Turning it into an evening of courtship couldn’t be proper. My mind rebelled at this morose train of thought. Neil and I weren’t alone at the boarding house; Mrs. Tatum’s eye was on us at all times. Miss Alice hadn’t discouraged me from a romantic relationship with Neil. Miss Ida had played on my inner doubts, but I couldn’t let her negativity influence the steps I’d taken in realizing my feelings for Neil. “Christy.” Neil was behind me, at the top of the stairs. Slowly I turned to face him. I gave an involuntary gasp at the sight of him as he came down to me. Gone were his typical plaid shirt and trousers. Instead he was dressed in a brown suit and necktie. In Asheville the men always wore suits, but something about this rugged man was more attractive than anyone I could recall. “Christy,” Neil said again. “You look -” He tugged at his high white collar. “You’ve never looked prettier.” “Thank you.” I could hardly find my voice. Was Neil nervous? The thought of him being the least bit unsure of himself made me nervous. The kitchen doorway swung open, and Mrs. Tatum poked her head out. “Come on, you two. There’ll be plenty of time for courtin’ later - right now there’s supper to eat!” Neil and I shared an awkward laugh, then he brightened and nudged me after Mrs. Tatum. “Into the kitchen,” he said, staying close behind me. “I think you’ll enjoy dinner.” When I saw Mrs. Tatum’s kitchen table, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a big bowl of mashed potatoes, dripping with butter; another of creamed corn; there was spinach and a mouth-watering dish of sweet potatoes; and in the center of it all, a juicy pink ham. “It’s - It’s what Mother serves every Christmas!” I looked at Mrs. Tatum. “It’s wonderful! How did you-” Mrs. Tatum clucked her tongue. “Doc can answer that better’n me.” “You?” I turned to Neil. His grin stretched from ear to ear. “Are you going to sit down and eat it? Or do we have to stand here and stare at it all night?” Gratitude and joy welled up from deep inside me, and so did the fluttery feeling. At that moment, I knew that Neil was a special man, and I liked him very much. I returned his smile. “You bet I’m going to eat it!” Part Eight The only sound in the living room was the melancholy voice of Mr. Tatum’s harmonica. Neil and I sat together on the sofa, wordlessly drinking in the music and the crackling fire, which bathed us in warmth. I was comfortable and content after Neil’s surprise dinner. After a few minutes, I turned to Neil and whispered, “How did you know about the traditional Huddleston family Christmas Eve dinner?” “How do you know that wasn’t the traditional MacNeill family Christmas Eve dinner?” “Too coincidental.” “Then it must have been a lucky guess.” I elbowed Neil in the ribs. “There is no way you made a lucky guess about every dish!” Neil squirmed at my playful jab but grinned. “Won’t you let me have my secrets, Christy?” “What’s the fun in that?” I asked, crossing my arms in a pout. “I can’t think of many things more fun than seeing you surprised.” “That’s fun?” At last the man admitted to purposely teasing me. “It is,” Neil replied. Leaning his head close to mine he added softly, “Someday I’ll tell you my secrets, Christy.” Mrs. Tatum barged through the kitchen door. I jumped a little in my seat, and Neil chuckled. “You’re funny when you’re startled, too.” “Chocolate cake, Miz Christy?” Mrs. Tatum held a saucer with a thick slice of gooey chocolate cake. “Oh, it’s my favorite!” I cried, taking the plate from her. “Thank you-” then I realized this was again Neil’s doing. I turned to him, laughing. “I don’t know how you did it, but I’m glad you did!” The room grew silent as we all munched our cake. Neil finished half his slice, then stood. “Well, I don’t know what comes next, Christy, so you’ll have to tell me.” Tell him what? Neil had a habit of picking up interrupted conversations exactly where we had left off and assuming I followed his train of thought. He smiled at my questioning gaze. “What does your family do after dinner on Christmas Eve?” All at once, though I was enjoying this Christmas, I wished my father was with me. “After dinner, we take turns reading the Christmas story from the Bible.” “Ours is on the mantle there,” said Mrs. Tatum. I watched as Neil strode to the fireplace and took the old family Bible down from the shelf. He held big, unwieldy book easily in his large hands. As he thumbed through the pages, I observed his tall silhouette. His craggy features seemed more deeply etched in the shadows, but the ends of his hair were red-gold in the firelight. As Neil began to read from the Gospel of Luke, I scarcely heard the words of the Scripture. I was paralyzed and senseless from the odd feeling that had returned to my stomach. I only wanted to listen to his deep voice, thick with emotion as he read, and to watch his brows knit together as he pondered the meaning of the passage. I was forced to stop my daydreaming when Neil handed me the Bible. I cleared my throat and read: “My soul magnifies the Lord, And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. For He has regarded the lowly state of His maidservant; For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed. For He who is mighty has done great things for me...” For the first time I understood the words of the Virgin Mary’s song to the Lord. Like Mary’s, my life had taken a sudden and dramatic turn. And like her, I found myself thanking God for every bit of it - especially this unexpected Christmas. When Neil finished the story and closed the Bible, Mr. Tatum picked up his harmonica and launched into a lilting melody. Instantly the music set my toes to tapping. Neil and Mrs. Tatum sang along, and I wished I knew the words to more of the lively mountain songs. Still, it was fun to listen. “Come on, Christy,” Neil said, grabbing my hands. “Christmas is a time for celebrating.” Before I could think, I found myself dancing with the Doctor in Mrs. Tatum’s living room. “That’s fine!” Mrs. Tatum cried, pushing chairs and small tables back against the walls. “Y’all dance till your breath’s gone!” Neil and I did just that. Mr. Tatum played song after song, and I danced until it was no longer a conscious effort. My feet moved as naturally as if I’d grown up doing the mountain dances. I twirled and spun as though I were a part of the music. There was nothing in the world but me and Neil’s laughing face above mine. And then the harmonica began a soft, simple tune. “I went out to a hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread... I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout.” I loved how so many of the mountain songs told stories. I thought of bards singing ancient ballads in the halls of great kings and lords and ladies. “Well I had laid it on the floor, I went to blow the fire flame, But something rustled on the floor And someone called me by my name. It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air.” Was it the aching pull of the music that drew me closer against Neil’s chest, or the enchanting lyrics, so vivid and alive in my mind with the clearness of his voice? I didn’t resist his strong arms tightening around me as he softly continued: “Though I am old and wandering, Through hollow lands and hilly lands I will find out where she has gone And kiss her lips and take her hands...” My breath caught in my throat as he drew me still closer and brushed his cheek against my forehead. I stared up at him, searching his face. His hazel eyes glowed, and he suddenly leaned down and kissed me. I closed my eyes as I felt the softness of his lips on mine. My body trembled against his. What was I doing? My eyes flew open, and I abruptly pulled away from him. My cheeks burned as I tore my gaze from his surprised and confused face and bolted for the door. Down the porch steps I ran, into the black winter night. I could hear him calling me as I trudged into the deep snow. “Christy, wait!” I stood with my back to Mrs. Tatum’s and took deep breaths, trying to still the pounding of my heart. I’d been kissed before, but never felt such an overwhelming sensation as I did now. The force of my own feelings - how I’d felt in Neil’s arms - surprised me. “Christy.” Neil stood just behind me. “Please look at me.” I obeyed, but couldn’t look directly at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.” My eyes smarted with tears. Why had I run from him again? “It wasn’t that-” Neil didn’t seem to hear me. “I was too forward,” he said, looking to the sky. “But Christy, I have to know - can I even hope for you?” His eyes were wide with agony, but the expression I’d seen before was there, too. He loved me like that. I felt dizzy as knowledge stole over me. I burst into tears. Neil stood by helplessly. His arms moved as if to hold me, but he let them fall to his sides. I cried harder because he couldn’t read my thoughts. “I - I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’ve never felt this way before... I don’t know how...” “I didn’t understand, either - why God made me love you so much.” He took a step closer to me. “It would be enough for me if you - could care for me just a little.” I couldn’t speak immediately. What words could express what I felt at that moment? I only hoped Neil would see it in my eyes. I tilted my face up to his, and a light of understanding eased the chisled lines of his forehead. I thought he would kiss me again - he looked like he wanted to - but he did not. Part of me wanted him to, but I also quailed at the thought. I hadn’t expected this to happen so quickly. Then it occurred to me that this wasn’t happening quickly for Neil. How long had he loved me, with no assurance that I would ever return his feelings? I wanted to relieve him of his doubts. I reached up to touch his cheek. “I do care for you, Neil - so much more than just a little.” It was the truth, and I felt relieved. I hadn’t said I loved him, but the cards were laid out before us. Neil’s eyes were warm as he folded me into his gentle embrace. He murmured my name as he rested his cheek on my hair. I had no idea how long Neil and I stood silently in Mrs. Tatum’s snow-covered yard, but when he finally pulled away from me and led me back to the porch, a shiver coursed through my body. I hadn’t noticed the cold when Neil’s arms were around me. Even now I was exhilarated, and my quick breaths formed little puffs of steam in the air. On the porch, Neil faced me and pressed my hands gently. “I should say goodnight.” This wasn’t what I’d expected. Good night? I’d just told him I cared for him! “Right now?” Neil’s face was serious, but his eyes twinkled. “Oh yes - Santa Claus can’t come till you’re in bed.” My eyes dropped to study Neil’s strong hands holding mine. He’d kissed me - he loved me. He couldn’t still see me as a girl, could he? “I thought Santa only visited good little boys and girls.” “This year he has something for a good young woman.” Woman. I remembered the first time Neil called me a woman. “You’ve got fire in you, and I like fire in a woman,” he’d said. I’d felt so childish after he’d questioned my beliefs and accused me of parroting Miss Alice, but even then I’d been a woman to him. And now, as he teased me about Santa Claus - I was still his equal. I met Neil’s level gaze. “Does he?” I tried to look as solemn as he did, but a smile had it’s way. “That’s a fact, Christy.” “Then I had better get to bed.” Neil and I stepped inside the boarding house, to find it completely dark, except for the light of two kerosine lamps on the hall table. I was a little surprised Mrs. Tatum wasn’t waiting at the door to ask when the wedding would be. Our kiss in the living room must have satisfied her nosiness enough to allow her to turn in for the night. Taking the lamp Neil held out to me, I started for the stairs. “Christy,” he said in a low voice. When I turned to him, he asked, “Don’t you want to hang a stocking for Santa Claus to fill?” I opened my mouth to reply, when he added, “One of your brown woolen ones will do...” I drew in an indignant breath as he stood before me laughing. “Good night, Doctor.” Neil brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. “Good night, Christy.” His eyes were soft and bright. Part Nine “Neil?” I knocked hesitantly on the Doctor’s bedroom door. I wasn’t sure if he was awake, but it was Christmas morning - not a day for sleeping late. I pressed my ear to the door, straining to hear any sounds on the other side. A buzz was muffled by the door. Snoring? “Neil,” I repeated, louder. “Wake up.” “Who is it?” came Neil’s voice, very alert for someone who’d just awakened. I heard his feet on the floor, then the sound of him clearing his throat. “It’s Christy.” “Are you all right?” Before I could answer, the door swung open, and my eyes widened at the sight of Neil, wearing only a pair of red long johns. I’d known I might wake him, but it had never occurred to me that he wouldn’t be dressed. “Sorry. I didn’t know...” I mumbled, turning to leave. He took my arm. “Are you sick? Someone looking for me?” I shook my head. I tried to fix my gaze on the floor, but my eyes kept wandering to his bare feet. The legs of his long johns were a little short, and I could see his ankles. His feet were large, like his hands, but not too wide. A freckle dotted his third toe. He had nice feet for a man. “You’re up awfully early,” Neil said, relaxing against the door frame. He yawned, then his voice dropped to a low, teasing lilt. “Couldn’t wait to get up and see what Santa put in your stocking?” “I always wake up early on Christmas morning,” I replied, trying not to sound defensive. I was a little embarrassed that Neil had found out my reason for waking early, but I wasn’t about to let him know. I was learning that Neil was much less nettling when I didn’t take him seriously. However, I was a little disturbed that he didn’t seem at all self-conscious about standing in front of me in his long johns. “Do you think you can stand the suspense for a few more minutes while I put on some clothes?” Neil asked. My cheeks grew warm. “I’ll wait right here.” When Neil emerged from his room moments later, dressed and grinning, I noticed the stubble of his red-blonde beard. I still wasn’t quite used to seeing men dressed so informally, much less unshaven, but I thought Neil looked very natural; the scruff was in keeping with his rugged masculinity. I must have stared, because Neil rubbed his chin. “If you want me to take the time to shave-” “No!” I shoved aside my scandalous wandering thoughts and grabbed his hand. He chuckled softly as I tugged him down the stairs behind me. The first thing I noticed in Mrs. Tatum’s sitting room was a brown woolen stocking dangling from the mantle piece. “You!” I cried. “How on earth did you-” I didn’t even want to know how or when he’d gotten my stocking - 0r why he persisted in making fun of it. Neil nonchalantly shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Santa Claus can do anything.” So can you, I thought. I went to the fireplace and took my stocking down from its hook. “What’s in here? It’s awfully lumpy.” “Look and see.” Neil tried to sound patient, but his bright eyes revealed his obvious eagerness for me to discover his surprises. I seated myself on a rocker and reached into the stocking. I drew out a small paper bag - gum drops. “I thought you’d like them,” Neil said. “I love them.” I popped one into my mouth, and offered him the bag. “Can’t stand them,” Neil said. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be eating candy?” I shook my head and delved deeper into my stocking. I felt something firm and round and dimply. “Gum drops and... oranges?” Neil’s fingers reached for the ends of his hair. “I’m your physician - I can’t in good conscience give you a stocking full of candy. And since an apple a day would keep me away...” I stared intently at the dimply fruits. The El Pano general store never carried oranges. Where had he found them? “Very thoughtful of Santa Claus.” Neil grinned. “I think he left one more treat in there.” For the third time I reached into my stocking. My fingers brushed something soft, and I pulled out a length of dusky rose-colored ribbon. “It’s lovely.’ “I like the color,” Neil said. “Just like the glow of your cheeks when you’re happy.” He noticed the color of my cheeks with particular moods? He really was an observant suitor. I felt very happy as I watched him step back to the Christmas tree and pick up the single package from under it. I took it from him and smiled to see the unevenly cut dark green wrapping paper, puckered in some places and gapped in others. “How can you make paper snowflakes so well and wrap presents like this?” “Santa wrapped that.” Neil gave a crooked grin. “He needs Mrs. Claus to give him a lesson in wrapping, doesn’t he?” “He didn’t do too badly for a man,” I replied. “And wrapping paper just gets torn anyway.” I tore into the paper, and gasped at what I found. “Neil, it’s-” I couldn’t say anything else. I held in my hands a carved box. It wasn’t made from teak or mahogany or even fine oak. It was just ordinary cedar, and the carving of mountain laurel was not an intricate one. But it captured the simplicity of life in the Tennessee mountains. Somehow I knew the artist had made it with great care and love. “Did you make this?” He shook his head. “Someone - very dear to me did.” I wondered who Neil could mean, but was too enthralled with observing the box to question him further. “Open it,” he said. I lifted the lid, and to my delight found a rainbow of colored pencils, pastels, charcoals, and other art supplies. “I noticed you sketching during your recovery,” Neil said. “Thought maybe you could use some pencils and things.” I almost dizzily explored the contents of the box. I was not a great artist by any stretch, but I was thrilled by the variety of colors and the quality of the supplies. “I’ve never had any so fine. They surely don’t sell these in El Pano.” Neil must have ordered them from the city - and paid a fortune. “You shouldn’t have-” Neil held up a restraining hand. “I wanted to. Do you like them, Christy?” “They’re wonderful.” Without thinking, I stood and kissed his prickly cheek. His unlined expression of pleasure tugged at me. “But I don’t have a present for you.” Neil took a step closer to me. “I don’t want anything - nothing that can be wrapped up and placed under a tree.” My heart lodged in my throat as Neil leaned into me, resting his forehead against mine. His large hands on my arms sent a surge of warmth through me, but I shivered. Was he going to kiss me? I anticipated the possibility, while at the same time wondering if it would be right to let him. Would kissing Neil cloud my ability to think clearly about him? The Doctor’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny. I knew he saw my hesitation, and I wished he weren’t so perceptive. I wished my turbulent emotions had not ruined this wonderful Christmas morning by confusing me again. His grip loosened, and I stepped back from him. The edge of the rocking chair brushed the backs of my knees, and I sank down upon it. “What is it, Christy?” “Nothing.” I knew Neil wouldn’t accept my answer. But why did he have to ask? “You looked the same way last night,” Neil said, crouching in front of me. “Like a deer that’s spotted a hunter.” “That’s just it. Neil, I’m - scared.” Unspoken questions hung in the air as Neil waited for me to continue. “Last night,” I began, “when you kissed me -” It wasn’t what I’d meant to say, but there was no taking it back now. “I liked it.” I thought I saw the faintest smile tug at the corners of Neil’s lips, but otherwise his face was unreadable. I thought about those romantic moments with David and how I’d enjoyed the feel of him. Naively I’d equated love with sensations - so had David. We’d nearly taken the irrevocable step of marriage when I began to sense we were missing something much deeper than what our physical bond gave us. Neil, on the other hand, required no physical connection to stir every emotion within me. He could make me glad or mad with a single word. He pushed me think and search myself. He wanted to talk with me and to know how I felt. He shared my love for the Cove and my visions for helping the mountain people. Weren’t these the characteristics that defined true love? If they were, why wasn’t I positive I loved Neil? He was constantly surprising me with his many facets. Was that why I was uncertain - because I sometimes felt I didn’t really know him? “I want to be sure, Neil,” I told him. “I want you to be sure, too.” “I just need a little time...” “Then we’ll give it a little time,” Neil said. “Or a long time. I won’t ask you for more until you’re ready.” Neil’s words were confident and decisive, but I worried that I’d disappointed him. “I do care for you,” I said. “I - I want it to be love.” Neil gave a soft smile. “I’ve never hoped more for anything.” “I don’t want to keep you waiting.” “Don’t worry about me.” Neil’s voice was very low and soft. “Don’t you know, Christy? My feelings for you aren’t going to change - not even if you keep me waiting for a year or two - or ten.” He understood. I reached for his hand and twined my fingers through his. “I don’t think it will be that long.” “I won’t deny I’m relieved to hear that,” Neil said with a wink. “Landsakes alive!” Mrs. Tatum appeared in the hallway. “Y’all shorely are up early! Tryin’ out the mistletoe?” Neil and I stared mutely as Mrs. Tatum grinned then turned and chuckled her way into the kitchen. My eyes wandered to the little plant that hung just above us, and I wondered if Neil was considering Mrs. Tatum’s suggestion. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Not till you’re ready, Christy. Not till you’re ready.” Part Ten Two days after Christmas, Neil trudged out through the deep snow to the El Pano train station to find out if the tracks had been cleared so that the trains could resume their schedule. He was gone for what seemed to be a long time. I’d had a lovely Christmas with him at Mrs. Tatum’s, but I was impatient to be at home to my family. When Neil finally did return, he was barely in the door before I questioned him. “Well? Did they get the tracks clear? Do you know when we’ll be able to go to Asheville?” Neil didn’t seem to be in any hurry to answer me. He stomped on the stoop to shake the snow from his tall boots, then deliberately shut the door against the cold. I watched him pull off his dark blue knitted cap and soft leather gloves before he reached into his pants pocket. “Never saw the East Tennessee Railroad work so quickly,” he said at last. “The trains are running?” I could barely contain my excitement as I took the train ticket Neil extended to me. “Running and bound for Asheville at 11:05.” He sounded a little disinterested, but I didn’t stop to wonder why. “This morning?” I glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was nearly ten-fifteen. “I’m glad I didn’t unpack my things.” “I need to do a bit of repacking,” Neil said. “Oh?” He looked down as he shuffled his feet. “I’ve got a bad habit - don’t fold and put away my clothes after I’ve worn them.” No wonder his clothes were always so wrinkled. What a study in contrasts this man was. He kept a meticulous laboratory, but didn’t put his clothes away. The image of his bedroom and hastily-made bed came to mind. “There weren’t any clothes on the floor when I changed in your room that day.” Neil had turned his back to me and moved closer to the fire. “I kicked them under the bed.” His words were humorous, but Neil’s voice contained no levity. I was a little troubled. Neil had been in good spirits for days and had seemed to be so earlier that morning when he’d left Mrs. Tatum’s to check on the trains. What could have happened in an hour to make him so sullen? Had he received bad news? I folded my train ticket in half. “So... Are you still coming to Asheville?” “Am I still invited?” “I - of course.” He was so short; had he interpreted my question as not wanting him to come? “I just thought you might have to go back to the Cove since we were delayed here.” “They can spare me a few more days.” I nodded, though his back was still to me. My eyes wandered to my train ticket, and I scanned the print. “Neil? This is a one-way ticket.” Neil didn’t reply as he leaned his arm on the mantle. “Why’d you get me a one-way ticket? Didn’t I give you enough for the fare?” Neil nodded. “Wasn’t sure how long you’d stay in Asheville.” That didn’t make sense - and it wasn’t like Neil to be irrational. “It doesn’t matter how long I stay - round trip is round trip. Besides, I told you I’ll be back after the new year.” “Will you?” “I have to be. There’s a new school term.” “And you’ll be teaching?” What was Neil thinking? He couldn’t really be serious. Perhaps he was only baiting me. If so, I wouldn’t take the bait. I moved to Neil and rested my hand on his shoulder. “How can you ask that?” I smiled, recalling a recent discussion we’d had about my new teaching ideas. “You know all the plans I have for the Cove this year.” He shrugged away from me. “Hard to carry out your plans if you don’t come back.” I felt my face flush with anger. His brusqueness was not in jest; he’d somehow gotten the notion that I was leaving Cutter Gap for good. “Why wouldn’t I come back?” Neil brushed past me without even meeting my gaze. “I have to pack.” For several minutes after he clomped up the stairs, I remained unmoving in Mrs. Tatum’s parlor. Once again Neil MacNeill had completely baffled me. ========== Hardly a word passed between Neil and me in the time after our peculiar conversation at Mrs. Tatum's. I'd kept quiet, hoping his mood would pass, or that he'd broach the subject himself. I felt shackled by the silence that separated us. How could we suddenly become so awkward when we'd grown so comfortable together? As we settled ourselves on a seat near the rear of the train, I could stand it no longer. "Why did you say that?" I asked. "Why did I say what?" "You know - that I wasn't going to come back." "I didn't say that." I felt my irritation rising. "You insinuated it." I waved my one-way train ticket in his face. "I don't understand why you would think I'm not coming back." Neil sighed. "You nearly died here." “But I didn't." I gripped his hand, which was balled in a fist. "Neil, you prayed for me, and God healed me. I have to believe He healed me for a reason, that I'm needed in Cutter Gap." Neil's features softened for just a moment, then his eyes darkened. "Or maybe it just wasn't your time to go." "God worked a miracle - in both our lives. Don't you believe He has a purpose?" "I'm not one to try and guess God's plan." My fingers relaxed on Neil's hand. In the days we'd been snowed in Mrs. Tatum's, we had, more than once, discussed subjects of a spiritual nature. While Neil didn’t have the foundation of a churchgoer, he was open to Christianity and its place in his life. But now - this was the old Neil talking. I let my gaze wander out the window as I pondered Neil's behavior. I noticed a man scramble into the station yard. He gestured wildly at the conductor. Was he angry? Whatever he was saying, it was urgent. The conductor looked away from the man and pointed straight at me. Was it at me, or just at the train? The man looked, too, then scurried out of my line of vision. "Doc MacNeill!" I heard footsteps clamoring up the iron steps to the train car. Neil whirled around. The man I'd seen through the window approached him. "They told me you was here," the man panted. "Doc, there's sickness in Raven Gap.” My heart sank. Sickness now? Why, when we were finally able to travel? Neil turned in the seat to face the man. “I’m on my way to Asheville. How serious is it?” “Three young’uns is took bad." I watched Neil’s jaw muscle work. I could not decide if he was tense with concern or frustration. "What are the symptoms?" When the man didn't answer, he reworded the question. "What's wrong with them?" "Old man McNab passed on from it - spiked up a high fever and couldn’t keep nothin’ in his stommick. Same thing with the young’uns. Reckon hit might be the ’flu?" “It might be.” Neil reached for his suitcase and stood. “See if you can’t find me some snowshoes. Snow’s too deep to ride.” The man raced away to carry out his commission, and Neil turned to me. "I'm sorry, Christy. Can't be helped." “Of course not. Influenza’s very serious.” My words sounded cold, resentful, though I didn’t mean for them to. He really did look sorry and disappointed. "You're not really going to Raven Gap on foot?" It was a long way, and with the weather we'd had... I didn't want to think of what could happen to Neil. Neil touched my shoulder. "I do it all the time. Don't worry about me." I followed him outside. "Please be careful, Neil." He nodded. "You do the same. I want you to take a nap every day." "Yes, Doctor." He stepped down from the train. "I will be back." "Aren't you afraid your parents won't let you?" So that's what had sparked his worry. He thought my bout with typhoid would reinforce my parents' misgivings about my staying in Cutter Gap. "Truthfully, the thought never crossed my mind," I admitted. "This is where God wants me to be." "How are you so sure?" "It's like when you first realized God is love. I just know." A blast of steam from the smokestack on the engine and the shrill whistle brought our conversation to an end. "You'd better go back to your seat," Neil said over the conductor's cry of "All aboard!" The train gave a slow lurch forward as it chugged into motion. "You'll be in my prayers, Neil." I saw him open his mouth in a reply, but his words were drowned out by the noise of the train. Our eyes were locked for a moment, but when the train began to pull away from the station, I tore myself from Neil's gaze and returned to my seat. I peered out the window at him. He stood at the edge of the platform, his arm raised as if reaching out for me. I pressed my fingers to the cold glass. His eyes never left me, even when the man who'd summoned him to Raven Gap returned with a pair of snowshoes. He looked so alone. Going to Asheville then was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I wanted to leap off the train and not let Neil go until he was fully assured of my return. At the same time, I was angry that he was so convinced I wouldn’t come back. Why didn’t he have faith in me? Or in God’s plan for me? I stopped straining my neck to see Neil. Settling into a comfortable position in my seat, I told myself that Neil would just have to work out his faith for himself. He would see. In a few weeks I would be back in Cutter Gap just as I’d promised. Part Eleven I basked in my parents’ pampering. I slept late every morning and soaked in long, luxurious baths. Mother cooked all my favorite meals and invited my friends over for a Christmas party. My father brought me candy and books and lacy handkerchiefs and perfume every day when he came home from work, and each evening we sat by the fireplace and played checkers until I could stay awake no longer. from the very beginning, when I first volunteered my service to Dr. Ferrand at Montreat, I’d had to fight my parents to get my way. We’d butted heads again when I wanted to return to Cutter Gap after my summer vacation. They were reluctant then, and now that I’d nearly died... I finally understood why Neil feared for my return to the Cove. When I finally did broach the subject of going back to Cutter Gap after the new year, I found myself more tempted to stay at home than I’d imagined. My parents’ arguments were reasonable. I’d done good work there and my sacrifices were commendable. But what about college? If I really wanted to be a good teacher, I needed to finish college. Some of my students were ready for advanced Latin and trigonometry and chemistry. I couldn’t teach those subjects, but if I finished college... I owed it to my students, to myself. Miss Alice and Dr. Ferrand would understand my decision. I would finish college, and return to Cutter Gap when I was better equipped to teach. I felt a twinge of guilt when I remembered my promise to Neil that I would be back in a few weeks. But he of all people would support higher education. The day after the new year I had lunch with my friend Eileen, with whom I’d roomed during my three semesters at Flora College. I’d planned to discuss returning to school with her, but found myself answering her questions about the year I’d spent in Cutter Gap. “Christy, you’re the last person I would have picked to run off and have so many adventures,” Eileen said after I’d shared several anecdotes about my friends in the Cove. “Do you have a beau there?” The question stunned me. “I thought I was interested in the minister, but it didn’t work out.” “Why not?” I didn’t want to get into the details of my relationship with David with Eileen. She was a good friend, but she would never understand why I’d refused a marriage proposal from a handsome young man. “Was there someone else?” “Sort of...” Eileen laughed and clapped her hands. “Let me guess - a mountain man?” I couldn’t help but smile. Eileen was joking, but if she only knew. Suddenly her eyes went wide. “Christy, you haven’t! You’re not in love with a hillbilly!” My face became hot. “He’s a doctor. He was born and raised in Cutter Gap, but he went to medical school in Philadelphia.” “Oh,” said Eileen. She took a long drink of water, then laughed again. “For a minute I thought you meant he was one of those poor people you told me about.” “He’s not rich,” I said. “He made a sacrifice to practice in the Cove.” I told her how he received donations from the doctors who put him through medical school, and how most of the mountain people paid for his services with chickens or firewood or sauerkraut. “Why would he choose to practice there when he could be successful in the city?” “Because he loves his people.” Eileen looked hard at me. “Just like you.” I contemplated her words. “Yes, just like me.” I never mentioned college to Eileen. ========== Epilogue The next week I found myself standing on the platform at the El Pano train station. Instead of battling Mother and Daddy again, I simply told them what I’d discovered in my conversation with Eileen. I had to go back to Cutter Gap. For the children. For Neil. For me. Surprisingly, they didn’t argue. Daddy did accompany me to El Pano, and he waited with me on the platform till my ride back to the Cove arrived. The sky was dark, and the clouds threatened more snow. We were quiet, not sure what to say on this parting. I knew it might be months before I saw my Father again. As on the morning he’d seen me off to Cutter Gap, I slipped my hand into the deep pocket of his overcoat and clasped his large, strong one. A few minutes later, Neil MacNeill appeared around the corner of the building. I introduced him to my father. My hand was still in Daddy’s pocket as the two men shook hands. “I believe we spoke on the telephone on Christmas Eve morning,” said Daddy to Neil. “When you called to ask what Christy’s favorite traditions were.” So that was how Neil had found out the Huddleston Christmas dinner and that I loved to trim the tree with popcorn, cranberries, and paper snowflakes. I shook my head at Neil, and he winked. Suddenly Daddy squeezed my hand and drew it to his lips. Then he placed it in Neil’s hand and closed the Doctor’s warm fingers around mine. “Take care of her,” said Daddy. He touched my cheek. “Goodbye, Girlie. Write me every day.” When my father had boarded the train back home, Neil spoke to me for the first time. “You came back.” “I told you I would.” I smiled at him and then slipped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his coat. “I’m here, Neil. Here to stay.” The end. ==========