Author's Notes: Thanks again for all the lovely reviews! There is one chapter left after this one.

Chapter 3: A Strong Heart

I woke up with Ruby Mae in my arms. The sun barely peeking over the hilltops.

"Ruby Mae, it's time to get up. We have school."

"Oh! I reckon we felled asleep – you look somethin' awful Miss Christy."

"Thank you," I said half sarcastic.

I crawled out of bed.

"I'll see if there is any news on the doctor," Ruby Mae flitted out of the room and went down stairs.

I was left alone. Alone with my thoughts. I remembered the dream I had of MacNeill's funeral and I shook my head violently to sweep that thought out of my head.

As I dressed, Ruby Mae came back up the stairs and knocked on my door, "Miss Christy? There ain't no news on Doc."

"Thank you, Ruby Mae." I said softly.

I washed my face and pulled back my hair. I had to keep going. I had to look strong – for the children.

School, although I always found enjoyment teaching the children, it was again a slow, dreary day. I was watching the little hands on the clock go by as the children did their studies. I kept looking out the doors to see if there was anyone riding up, but no one came.

School was out and all the kids ran out as they usually did. I watched, as I usually did, Fairlight hug her children, but this time she did not walk with them. She sent John and the little ones on their way and approached me.

"Miss Christy. I wondered if there is anything you'd be needing?"

I shook my head, "No, Fairlight. Thank you. Would you like to have a lesson?"

She walked up the steps, "I don't reckon either of us will be in our right minds for a lesson."

She put her hand on my shoulder and guided me into the chapel. It was friendly, and for a moment I forgot the troubles of the day. "I've been workin' on a new quilt in my spare time. Sitting in my lookout place."

"That's wonderful, Fairlight. I'd love to see it when it's finished."

There was something about Fairlight that kept me from losing my mind. "Would you like me to make you some biscuits at the mission? Wouldn't be any trouble."

I shook my head and plastered a smile to my face. "No, thank you, Fairlight. I appreciate your kindness."

We were silent for a moment. I knew she was trying to keep the conversation light, but my spirit weighed it down.

Fairlight hesitated for a moment before she spoke, "Miss Christy, is the doctor any better?"

I felt the hot rush of tears form in my eyes and I could barely whisper, "There hasn't been any change. Miss Alice doesn't know how much the poison has spread. She has giving him the proper medication, treatment – all we can do is wait."

"And pray, Miss Christy."

I nodded. I had been doing that constantly, but all was silent.

"He'll be all right, Miss Christy, you wait and see," she smiled as I started to clear my desk, trying to keep my shaking hands preoccupied. "The entire Cove is prayin' real hard for the Doctor. I know the Lord will answer our prayers and heal him."

"I hope so. If anything happens to the Doctor MacNeill, I can't imagine what will happen to the people. That sounds terrible. The health of the good doctor is constantly in my thoughts, but I can't help but think of the people who need him so much." The tears escaped my eyes and stung my cheeks as I thought of how much I needed him too.

Fairlight pulled me into a tight embrace and just held me. I felt so silly. I was almost twenty. I was an adult. I had tried to remain strong, but I felt as small as Little Burl.

"T'ain't a sin to think like that, Miss Christy. I reckon a lot of us depend on the doctor a little too much. He's sacrificed so much for us that we forget he is just as human as all of us."

She was so right. Doctor MacNeill had been working so hard for these people, harder than any of us could ever know. He worked himself so hard that it had finally taken it's toll, it felt like.

Fairlight pulled back and looked me in the face with her bright blue eyes, "Keep a strong heart, Miss Christy. Keep praying. Prayer and faith can move mountains as Preacher says."

She took me back to the mission and we talked a while and prayed. She made me some biscuits that I didn't feel like eating and described her quilt. All the while, I stared out the window, looking for anyone riding up. Later that afternoon, Fairlight said her good bye and told me to keep praying.

Soon after, David appeared in the kitchen, "How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Just arrived. Still no change." He said.

I paced back and forth in the living area. "He can't die. He can't. His job is too great. He is needed so much here."

"It is not up to us to decide," he said quietly. "We've done everything there is we can do. It is in God's hands now."

"I have been praying hard and trusting and hoping, David, but why did God have to do this? I know MacNeill does not believe in God, but why did God have to do this?"

"God allows things to happen for a reason. Maybe he's using Neil as a way of testing us to hold onto our faith and hope in Him."

I bit my lip, to hold in my anger. There was some sense in what David said, but I was still too angry to try and reason is all out. "The doctor can't die."

"If I were you," he said calmly, "I would try to think this through; is it what is best for God's will that he be taken away, or is it best for Christy to want him to live." David put a hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eyes, then left the room.

That night, my mind raced with everything that Fairlight said and what David said.

I saddled my horse and rode as fast as I could to the cabin, trying to decipher every thought and feeling I had.

A light shined in the upper window. As I walked toward the cabin, everything around me as amplified and felt like it was moving in slow motion. The night was dark and there was no wind.

No wind.

I rushed inside to rid the beginning of that horrid dream from my mind.

I went up the stairs and stood in the doorway. Miss Alice never left his side.

The poison from the bite had not killed him, but how far it spread was a mystery and was weighing his life on the line.

"Miss Alice, why don't you get some rest. I'll watch him for a while," I walked into the room.

She sighed a weary sigh as she pulled back a lock of hair that had fallen out of place. She slowly stood, "All right. Keep replacing the cloth and keep him covered. I've given him as much medicine as I dare."

I nodded as she left the room and took her place in the chair. I took his hand in mind, and leaned back in the chair. David's words were pressing hard against my mind. But weariness pressed harder on my eyes and body.

I don't remember falling asleep, but when I awoke, the dim morning light was seeping into the room. I brushed my hair back away from my face, rubbed my eyes and looked down at the doctor. He was still unconscious. His skin still pale.

"Miss Huddleston, thee has a duty to perform at school. There is some bread and cheese downstairs for thee. It will do thee good to eat and teach the children." Miss Alice said coming into the room and examining the doctor. "Well, he isn't worse. But he is still unconscious."

I stood slowly, resting his hand gently back at his side, then left the room with one short glance back at the man lying still.

I couldn't eat the bread or cheese. I had no appetite. I had no desire to do anything. As much as I loved the children, all I wanted to do was stay at his side.

Why was God taking so long? Was He going to answer our prayers?

I could hardly teach class and the children couldn't pay attention.

"Teacher, ain't there nothing we can do?" Sam Houston asked me during their playtime.

"Pray. Pray hard, and I'm sure the Lord will answer your prayers."

"But isn't there nothing we can do for when he wakes up?" He asked again.

Several of the children had come in from outside and had joined behind Sam Houston.

"I could write a letter to the doctor." Creed Allen said.

"Yah, I could draw my fine arrow heads I found the other day," Sam Houston exclaimed. "I'd been wanting to show him."

I smiled, "He'd love that."

"I could draw him something," Becky chimed in.

Suddenly all the children had run inside at this new and exciting idea they had formed. I found myself handing out sheets of white paper to their eager hands and marveled as they, in their own way, told the doctor how much they loved him.

Dear Lord, answer their prayers, answer my prayers, heal Doctor MacNeill.