Disclaimer: This story has been written for entertainment purposes only. The characters were created by Catherine Marshall in her novel Christy. Because part of the story is a portion from the novel told from a different perspective, I have used some excerpts from the novel. Title: Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace Author: Debbie H. Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace I've always imagined a certain scene taking place in Catherine Marshall's book. But since the story is told from Christy's perspective and she was in Asheville on vacation at the time, she wasn't in the Cove to witness it. Let me know what you think.... Part One July 12, 1912 Dear Miss Huddleston, Neil stared critically at the words he had just written. The script was too meticulous, the tone too formal. "Ack!" he exclaimed as he crumpled the thick creme-colored stationery into a ball. He tossed it on the floor, where it joined several similar sheaves. This one document was proving more difficult than any graduate thesis he had ever written in medical school. He reached into one of the cubbyholes of his desk and retrieved another sheet. To his dismay, the doctor realized it was the last one. This letter had to be right. It *had* to be the one. Neil sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. Once again, he picked up his pen and dipped the nib into the inkwell. Lost in thought with pen poised, he studied the blank page. A firm knock on the door disrupted his concentration. "Who's there?" he called distractedly. "It's Alice, Neil. May I come in?" Neil stood up and strode to the front of the cabin, the discarded pages crunching under his feet. "Hello, Alice," he greeted as he opened the door. "What brings you up this way? No emergencies at the mission, I hope?" He stood aside and motioned for the elderly missionary to enter. As Alice walked across the room and settled herself into the dainty low-back chair, her keen eyes scanned the cabin. They didn't miss the evidence of her son-in-law's futile efforts; nor had they missed his downcast demeanor of late. "Writng an article for one of your medical journals?" Alice asked casually. The doctor cleared his throat. "Well, no," he answered, shifting his feet uncomfortably. "Actually, I was . . . uh, writing a letter to Miss Huddleston." The floorboards at his feet suddenly became of critical interest to the lovelorn man. "Ah, I see." Alice replied. She waited patiently for him to continue. When Neil finally met her eye, the woman could see the agony he was trying so desperately to hide. "Thee has special feelings for her." The doctor nodded slowly. He sat down on the hearth and looked up at the woman who had become a dear friend. "I didn't realize how much I'd grown accustomed to her company," he began. "These past two weeks seem like a year." He shrugged. "I thought I'd just write her a little note; let her know we're all thinking about her, but the words come out stilted and cold or . . ." his voice trailed off. "Or you reveal too much," Alice finished. Neil looked at his confidante in surprise. "Exactly!" he exclaimed. "I'd hate to frighten the poor girl. After all, what would a peart, young lady like her want with an old hillbilly doctor like me?" The clock on the mantle ticked loudly as Alice considered Neil's statement. Finally, she spoke. PART TWO: "You have much to offer, Neil." The man laughed mirthlessly. "Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't seem like she's noticing if I do." Alice smiled knowingly. "Impressionable young women like Christy respond to the attention they are given." "And a certain preacher has been giving her plenty lately," Neil added drily. "I won't deny it," the missionary stated. "But now you must decide what to do about it." The doctor reached over to the coffee table and poured two glasses of water from the heavy pewter pitcher. He handed a glass to his mother-in-law and took a long drink from the other. "Well, the way I see it," he said, "I've got two choices. I can let her know how I feel, or I can continue as I have been." "And what is the worst thing that can happen in either case?" the woman prodded gently. "It's rather obvious, I think. If I tell her how I feel, she might not return the feeling. In addition to heartbreak, I would most likely suffer embarrassment, and possibly ruin the friendship that she and I have built." Neil sighed. "If I don't tell her how I feel, the worst that could happen is," the man gritted his teeth, "that Christy would marry the Reverend; and I would live an unbearably long and healthy life, wondering daily what might have been. By the ripe old age of eighty, the searing pain in my heart might subside to a dull ache." Alice couldn't help but smile. "And the best that could happen?" Neil grinned and his eyes sparkled. "Why, Christy would be flattered and would confess similar feelings for me. We'd live happily ever after and raise a heap o' young'uns, growing old together on the mountain top." He knit his brow in thought. "But if I don't tell her, the best that could happen . . ." he stopped. "Yes?" Neil chuckled. "There *is* no best case scenario. How could waking up every morning wondering what might have happened if... ever be good?" He placed his large hand on Alice's shoulder. "You've been a great help to me. I'm much obliged." "You know that my ear is always ready to listen," the elderly woman responded as she stood. "And-" "And your shoulder is always available, if needed, for a good cry," Neil finished. "I know, Alice. Margaret told me you used to say that all the time." Alice looked at him in surprise. "I didn't realize she was listening. She never would come to me with her problems. . . not until the very end." "But she did love you. She just didn't know how to show it," he added. Alice cleared her throat. "And that brings us back to the present situation," she stated, looking the doctor straight in the eye. "I guess I'm not any better at it." "On the contrary," Alice interjected. "You excel at making people feel special. With a naive girl like Christy, though, thee may have to come right out and say it." Neil shuddered at the thought. "Well, I have some thinking to do. Thank you for listening, Alice." ****** A few days later, Neil was working in his laboratory, carefully making slides from the scrapings he had recently taken from Granny Barclay's inflamed inner eyelid. Usually his mind raced as he worked, imagining what might be the root of this evil and how it could be treated. Today, however, his thoughts centered around a young schoolteacher. What could he possibly do to win her affection? Fortunately, an answer presented itself that very afternoon. While visiting with Liz Ann Robertson and her two-day-old baby boy, Isaiah, she told the doctor some startling news. "Hey, Doc," Liz Ann began as she nursed the infant. "You know how Will Beck's been a-courtin' Ruby Mae? Well, the two o' them's aimin' t' get thairselves hitched." "You don't mean it!" Neil exclaimed. "For shore and sartain I do." answered the new mother. "Ruby Mae come over here jest a short spell ago an' tole me herself. Jest decided on hit last night. Will went over t' ask Mr. Morrison this mornin', an' he said it don't matter t' him what feller takes that heap o' red hair outten his cabin, so long as one does." "So when do they plan to marry?" "Soon as th' preacher comes back from his holly-day." Liz Ann laid the baby on her shoulder and patted his back softly until a tiny belch escaped. "An Ruby Mae said they's goin' to wait til Miz Christy gets back, too. ‘Cain't get married ‘thout Miz Christy,' she said. The two o' them is thick as thieves." The doctor chuckled. "Yes, they are." He softly brushed a finger against the newborn's cheek. "You and Isaiah both seem to be doing great. I'll be by day after tomorrow to look in on you." ****** It took every ounce of discipline that Neil could muster not to ride down the mountain to the El Pano station that summer afternoon two weeks later. He tried not to think of David Grantland greeting Christy on the platform, but the imagined picture of them embracing warmly refused to give him peace. After several vain attempts at reading a somewhat current medical journal and cleaning the cabin, he decided to try fishing. Quickly, he gathered his pole and a bucket and marched resolutely to the creek. The day was a warm one. The sun shone brightly, but there were enough clouds to keep the temperature from rising uncomfortably high. In essence, it was a beautiful afternoon - the kind that usually inspired a deep sense of tranquility in the mountain man. Today, however, even the musical bubbling of the creek failed to soothe him. Suddenly, Neil threw down his pole and headed toward the mission house. He could bear the torment no longer. A few yards later, he halted mid-stride. "Stop, you fool!" he muttered to himself. "You go down there now, and you'll ruin everything. You spent too many sleepless nights coming up with a plan; and it's a good plan. Now stick to it!" he chastised. Wearily, he sighed and turned back toward the creek. PART THREE: To everyone in the Cove, Neil MacNeill was the same man he had always been. After Christy's return to Cutter Gap, he avoided the mission house, although he desperately wished to visit there. Fortunately, the medical situation in the mountain community distracted the doctor and helped him pass the four days until the Morrison/Beck wedding. "Now, Creed, don't you play near your Paw's saw anymore, you hear?" Neil scolded as he stitched the mischievous boy's hand. "Next time that finger might come clean off." Creed shivered with a mixture of macabre fascination and fear. "Reckon I mought stay away from thar a while." He paused. "You ever heerd ‘bout Ole Man McGlynn? Used to live up past Locust Fork?" Neil shook his head. He sensed a tall tale coming. The miniature Uncle Bogg took a deep breath and began his story. "Waal, some folks say Ole Man McGlynn was up thar helpin' his kin split some kindlin' fore the winter come. He was holdin' a log upright so's his brother could split it. The axe, hit come down and chopped Ole Man McGlynn's hand right off." Creed's eyes grew wide with excitement, and his voice raised itself an octave. "His brother reached down thar to pick hit up, figgerin' maybe the doc could put it back on someways. But when he reached down, them fingers jest wiggled away a couple o' steps. Brother, now, he's a-thinkin' that jug o' corn likker he jest drank was foolin' with his eyes. So he reached down thar agin. Agin that hand walked a few more paces. Now Brother, he's gettin' downright techious. Picked up that axe an started swingin' at that hand." Neil grinned. Creed was one of his favorite patients. Usually the doctor had to tell amusing stories to distract his patients as he treated them; but Creed was entertaining himself. "So what happened?" "Brother, he chased that ol' hand round the yard with that thar axe peart near all day. Never could get a hold of it. Crept into an old rotted out log and Brother, he couldn't get in thar. That was nigh on twenty years ago, but folks say everwhen the moon's full, ye mought see that hand sneakin' round searchin' for the body that it lost." Creed looked up at the doctor earnestly. "You reckon my fingers'd do a thing like ‘at if'n they was to get cut off?" Neil touseled the boy's hair. "I don't know Creed. But if you'll stay away from that saw, we won't have to find out." Deftly, the physician knotted and cut the thread after completing the last stitch. He pulled a roll of white cloth from his saddlebag and began bandaging the wound. "You goin' to the infare tomorry, Doc?" the boy asked. "Reckon so," came the reply. "We haven't had a wedding here in the Cove for a while." "An' I hear Miss Alice is fixin' up some real fancy-fine vittles, too," Creed whispered conspiratorially. "Miss Alice, she's a right fine cook an' all, but I don't keer who cooks, jest so long as Ruby Mae don't." Neil suppressed a laugh as he wound the bandage around the boy's hand a final time and tucked the end firmly underneath. "Creed, it's important that you keep that hand clean and dry, you understand? Clean and dry," he emphasized. "And tell your mother I'll check on you in a few days." "Right, Doc," Creed saluted. "We'll be a seein' ye tomorry." ****** Neil awoke before sunrise. Today was The Day. Today he, Neil MacNeill, would begin the process of winning Christy Huddleston's heart. After a thorough scrubbing by the creek, he dressed and carried a bucket of water to the porch, where a small mirror hung from a rusty nail. He lathered his face with the shaving cream he'd purchased recently in El Pano. Patiently scraping his razor against a long strip of leather, Neil let his thoughts wander. . . They drifted back to the first time he met the Cove's new schoolteacher. Bob Allen had suffered a head injury and was taken to the Spencer cabin, where Christy and her guide, Ben Pentland, stopped to rest on their trek into Cutter Gap. For a moment, he thought that Margaret was still alive. . . Neil recalled the way his heart had skipped a beat in that instant before his common sense reminded him that Margaret was dead; he'd been with her when she died. The doctor didn't think about the young woman again until he began hearing stories about the happenings at the new school. The highlanders seemed to like her and trust her, which surprised him; however, he'd seen other volunteers come and go over the years. "Maybe she'll last a month," he thought, "maybe not." But last she did. Neil knew he would never forget Sunday, February 15, 1912. That was the day Miss Huddleston took an involuntary swim in his creek. Again, he was struck by her resemblance to his deceased wife, especially after she changed out of her wet clothes and into Margaret's favorite dress. He could have given her a corduroy jumper, which would have been more appropriate for the time of year, but for a reason he did not understand, he couldn't resist the urge to see the young woman in the flower-print garment. As the afternoon passed, however, the doctor discovered that this young woman, although she *looked* like Margaret, was unlike any female he'd ever known. Neil clearly had the home-court advantage; that didn't stop the outlander from confronting him about the poor medical conditions in the Cove, though. On one hand, it almost made him angry, but on the other, the doctor had always enjoyed a good debate. He hadn't had a good sparring partner since McDougall in medical school; he sensed that he might have found one here in Cutter Gap. His favorite bout with the energetic teacher occurred a few months later, shortly after Tom McHone was shot. He didn't think the opinionated woman could ever be rendered speechless. He was proven wrong that day, however, as he peppered her with difficult spiritual questions - questions he'd wrestled with all his life. She stammered and stuttered, then finally gave him a tongue lashing reminiscent of his great-Granny Jean. Her brown eyes flashed, and Neil was surprised by a feeling that he wanted to reach out and hug that small frame standing before him with her hands sternly on her hips. As she stomped out of the schoolhouse, he chuckled good-naturedly. ****** When Alice Henderson approached the MacNeill cabin, she observed a comical sight. The doctor, lathered and ready for a shave, sat on the porch with a razor strop spread across his lap. He wasn't sharpening the blade though; instead he was lost in thought, a crooked grin on his face. "Hallooo!" the elderly missionary called, pretending not to notice the red-haired man's daydreaming. The silly look disappeared, and Neil immediately resumed sharpening his razor. "Good morning, Alice! All reading for the big event today?" "Ida and Fairlight have everything under control. The three of us have been up since dawn. I believe it will be a feast to be remembered for years to come. I've never seen so many pies in all my life! " she said as she climbed the steps to the porch. "And how are you faring today?" Neil shrugged and stood facing the mirror. He painstakingly scraped the razor against his cheek and shook the lather into the bucket. Alice continued, "I thought thee might like a haircut." She held up a pair of scissors. "Good idea. It *has* been a while since I've had one. Ouch!" He put his hand to his chin. The woman walked over to Neil's chair. "Why don't you let me finish?" The doctor sat down and wordlessly handed her the razor. An hour later, he was ready. Freshly shaven, hair cut and combed (with most of the curls under control), and dressed in his only suit, Neil appeared to be the picture of confidence and tranquility. Internally, his stomach was churning. ****** Neil was talking with Uncle Bogg when Christy, David and Ida arrived at the Morrison cabin. His back was to the door, but he could feel her presence. He laughed heartily at Uncle Bogg's joke and stole a quick glance at the schoolteacher. The sight of her almost took his breath away. It had been a long time since he'd seen her, and he'd almost forgotten just how big and brown those eyes of hers were. Uncle Bogg's voice cut through the doctor's thoughts, "And Jeb, he come streakin' outta them woods like he jest seen the Ghost of Old Marthy herself!" The group of men burst out in raucous laughter. Bob Allen slapped his old friend Jeb Spencer firmly on the back. "How was I t' know Becky Holt was hangin' the laundry out thar in the dark?" Jeb answered defensively, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Reluctantly, Neil rejoined the conversation. The time to approach Christy had not arrived. "Be patient," he reminded himself. Uncle Bogg squeezed through the group holding a bottle of whiskey with a large white bow tied around its neck. "Black Betty!" he shouted as he made his way out into the yard. A few moments later, Smith O'Teale came racing down the hill from his lookout, his horse galloping at full speed. "Thay're a-comin'! Thay're a-comin'!" The sound of hoofbeats drew nearer. The crowd cheered as Arrowood Holcombe came streaking over the hill, with Wraight Holt behind him. "They're comin', and they ain't moseyin'," Uncle Bogg cried. "Yippee, Ya Ya! Makin' noise like the whole Cher'kee nation full o' corn juice!" After the bottle had been passed around, David called to the crowd. "Ruby Mae, Will, the big moment's come. Make way for the bride and bridegroom, folks." The young couple entered the cabin, along with as many spectators as could squeeze into to the tiny room. David used his powerful preaching voice as the ceremony began. Even Dr. MacNeill was impressed by the sincerity in the minister's voice. "With a man like that courting her, what would Christy want with me?" he asked himself, but his own words reminded him of his mission today. "How could waking up every morning wondering what might have happened if... ever be good?" "If any man has just cause for why this couple should not be joined in matrimony," David's deep voice intoned, "speak now, or forever hold your peace." The preacher paused. The doctor looked across the room at Christy, who was completely absorbed in the scene before her. "Speak now, or forever hold your peace," he thought. "And I do plan to speak, Reverend. . . I *do* plan to speak." David continued, "Whom God hath joined, let no man put asunder." PART FOUR: Patiently, Neil bided his time, waiting for just the right moment to approach Miss Huddleston. Casually making his way around the room, he visited with his neighbors, as he always had at previous weddings. Today, however, there was a method to his seemingly random wandering. As he cut himself a piece of sweet-potato pie, he noticed that the teacher was sitting by herself. He nonchalantly crossed the small room. The Time was at hand. "Still mad at me, Christy?" the doctor asked as he took a small bite of pie. The surprised look on Christy's face made him smile. "Why, hello, Dr. MacNeill. Of course not! Why should I be mad at you?" "For today I haven't the least idea. Seems like the last time we were together you ran out on me," he half-joked. Christy looked puzzled. She was just realizing how long it had been since she'd last seen him. Clearly, she had not been counting the days as he had. "Uh. . . could I get you some pie or cake or something?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Thanks, no. I've finished." The teacher's mind appeared to be elsewhere, but Neil had gotten this started, and he wasn't ready to quit just yet. He down sat in the empty chair beside her. "That day in your school," Neil started again, "you know, you actually thought I knew something that would save Tom. Do you still think that, Christy?" He looked sincerely into her eyes. "I'd hate to have you blaming me for Tom's death." Again, Christy seemed surprised by the doctor's question. She cleared her throat and looked around the room, searching for a way to change the subject. She still had not sorted out the tangled web of facts and suppositions surrounding the shooting, or the doctor's part in it all. "Maybe this isn't the best place to talk about it," she hedged. "Too many people to overhear, don't you think? Opal, for instance." "True," was all the doctor could reply. "And not exactly wedding festivity talk," she added pointedly. This was not going as Neil had planned, but he should have known that Christy Huddleston was not predictable. "Point made. Another time then." Surely this couldn't be the end. He'd thought long and hard about This Day, and he refused to let the opportunity pass him by. Neil made another attempt at conversation. "Are you prepared for the ceremonies?" he asked with a rakish grin. "But I thought we'd had the ceremony," Christy wrinkled her nose in confusion. Neil's heart leapt into his throat. She was so cute when she did that! "That's right, you've never been to one of our mountain weddings before, have you? David's part, now that was pure preliminary. The real ceremony's coming up - that is if the scalawag boys can catch the bride and groom to shivaree them." "Shivaree them?" "Riding the rail's another name for it." Neil began counting on his fingers. "Then there's belling the bride. Oh, and of course, putting the bride to bed." Christy's face colored slightly. "I've always heard of riding the rail, but I never quite saw the point. It always seemed like children playing horse." Now it was the doctor's turn to be surprised. This young woman certainly was naive! "Christy, you amaze me. Grown girl leaves home to be on her own." He shook his head in mock consternation. "All right," he said as if to a little child. "Papa will explain. There's a bit more to it than children playing horse." He raised an eyebrow. "Practical joke stuff, sure. Pretty crude." He closed his eyes. "Let me think how I can put this so's not to offend you." He opened them again to find Christy looking at him inquisitively. He sniggered. "No riding the rail side-saddle for the bride allowed. Strictly astride," he emphasized. Now Christy turned a deep shade of red. Neil chuckled. He had succeeded again in stealing her tongue. She squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. Neil was just realizing that making a girl feel uneasy is not the best way to win her heart, and was trying to determine his next move when Jeb Spencer and Wraight Holt tuned up their instruments and began playing a colorful mountain tune. Uncle Bogg, happiest as the center of attention, stepped into the middle of the room, calling orders. "Scrooch them settin' chairs against the walls, boys. Gonna need a heap o' room." He clapped in time to the music. "The Tenn'see Wagon Wheel," he announced. "Dancing! Of course!" Neil exclaimed internally. Then audibly, "Come on, Christy. Into the circle we go." Without giving her a chance to respond, he grabbed her hand and led her into the circle. Fortunately for the doctor, he'd been doing this mountain dance since he was a small boy. Even the nervousness he felt at the teacher's nearness couldn't make him miss a step of the intricate pattern that had been hammered into his memory. And Christy seemed to follow his steps naturally. He felt her hand relax as they wove through the other dancers in the Wagon Wheel pattern. "Pick up your partner!" Neil was surprised how easily he lifted Christy into the air. Was she that light, or were his nerves giving him that much additional energy? He set her down, then they linked arms and twirled in a circle. She *seemed* to be enjoying herself, he thought. He saw the same spark in her eye that he'd seen the afternoon at the school, only this time it was accompanied by a brilliant smile that made his knees weak. It was over too soon. "Off the floor!" Uncle Bogg called as the music stopped. Christy leaned breathlessly against the wall. "You aren't . . . breathless . . . a bit," she puffed. "If you only knew," he answered silently. "Used to it," he shrugged. "Anyway, that was only a middlin' fast tune." As Christy caught her breath, Jeb began a new song. It seemed that the musician had read Neil's mind. Without thinking, the words spilled out of his mouth: "Cheeks as red as a bloomin' rose, eyes of the deepest brown, You are the darlin' of my heart, stay till the sun goes down." Neil didn't notice as other voices joined in. There was no one in the world but himself and Christy. Did she understand what he was trying to tell her? He couldn't read her expression, but David Grantland had no trouble reading the doctor's face. He scowled. Didn't everyone know that *he* was courting Christy. . . that they were practically engaged? The nerve of that over-confident, egotistical hillbilly. . . Suddenly David remembered his calling. That was no way for a man of the cloth to be thinking. Besides, jealously was beneath him. "What could Christy possibly see in that man anyway?" he reasoned. Christy turned away from the doctor and poured herself a glass of fruit juice. Was she rejecting the doctor's attention or could she still be unaware of it? Neil wasn't sure; and until she rejected him outright, he'd continue trying. Just then, the band launched into a new tune, a lightning fast one. Automatically, Neil led Christy onto the dance floor. Song after song, they danced. The young woman's smile grew broader with each dance, and Neil finally began to believe that maybe, just maybe, his plan might work. As the "real" wedding festivities commenced upstairs, the couple danced on, almost oblivious to the happenings around them. Neither noticed that only six dancers remained on the floor, but Jeb Spencer did. "Looks like ol' Doc's a-tryin' to court Miz Christy," he shouted over the music to Uncle Bogg. "Ain't seen him dance this much since. . ." the county squire scratched his head. "Since I don't know when. Reckon he don't know he's sparkin' the Preacher's gal?" "Naw," Jeb answered. "Doc's too smart. He knows." As the dance ended, Neil spun his partner with a final flourish. Their eyes met, and for a moment, time stood still. Making it appear accidental, he brushed his lips against her forehead. He wanted to stand there holding her forever. Reluctantly, and with his heart pounding loudly in his ears, he released his arm around her. "Does she understand *yet*?" he asked himself as he pulled out a chair for the young woman. He took another one and sat down on it backwards, crossing his arms on the back of the chair and resting his chin on them. The suitor studied his sweetheart. From across the room, David observed jealously. He could read the doctor's body language, even if Christy couldn't. The preacher was getting angry now. Didn't this guy know when to quit? An uneasy silence developed. Neil grasped about in his mind for a new topic of conversation. Suddenly, honeymoon noises were heard from the loft above. Christy wriggled in her seat. "Actually, Christy, you ought to consider something," the doctor stated. "The mountain attitude toward sex may be more nearly right than society's attitude. It's the way things are, and the way they were meant to be. Here in the mountains, folks see sex for pleasure and for procreation. They're right. Leave out either one, and you're in trouble." As he finished his statement, David approached them. "Excuse me, Doctor, for interrupting," he said stiffly. He turned to Christy. "I'm leaving. Didn't want to go without letting you know." He glared at his competitor, then said sweetly to the schoolteacher, "may I take you home?" Neil saw the unmistakable relief on Christy's face. "Yes, thanks, David. I *am* ready to go." The doctor stood watching the couple disappear down the hillside. Absently, he reached back to pull the hairs on the back of his neck, but they were gone. Alice had cut them off only this morning. He let his hand drop to his side. Fairlight Spencer observed sympathetically as the Cove's sole physician bid his farewells to the remaining guests. He looked suddenly tired, and Fairlight knew it was not caused by all the dancing he'd done, but rather by the sting that love sometimes brings. PART FIVE: Anyone seeing Neil MacNeill riding home after the wedding would never have guessed the turmoil boiling beneath his granite exterior. "Fool!" he berated himself. "You embarrassed her enough talking about sex once; why did you bring it up again? You saw her face. She couldn't get away fast enough! It looks like your worst-case scenario is coming true. "No!" the doctor argued with himself. "I will not give up. It is not hopeless. There were times, you know, when we looked at each other. . . I saw something there; only for an instant, but I *saw* it. "All in all, Neil," he thought, "you really didn't do so poorly. It's been a long, long time since you've done any courting. . . Come to think of it, you never *have* done much courting." The doctor chuckled aloud. "Margaret basically courted you!" "The objective for the day was to spend some time with Christy, let her know you're not just the obstinate man she thinks you are. I'd say you succeeded. Sure, you could have done a few things differently," he cringed as he re-lived the minutes prior to Christy and David's departure, "but you still have a chance. It's not time to forever hold your peace just yet." Over and over, Neil replayed in his mind his dances with Christy. Each time, he held his breath as he lightly kissed her forehead and held the young woman in his arms. He could still feel her warmth against his chest. He ached to hold her again. "You've got to succeed, Neil; you've got to," he told himself as he rode across a meadow. The sun peered from behind a cloud in the summer sky, reflecting brilliantly off the sea of wild flowers. The doctor closed his eyes and felt the sun's warmth on his face. He smiled, then nudged his horse into an easy trot. His head was full of ideas and dreams of a future that was within his grasp. THE END