River Deep, Mountain High

Standard disclaimers apply to this piece of Christy fan fiction.

This story continues where the TV series left off.

Any similarities to other works of Christy fan fiction are purely coincidental and unintentional.

Chapter 33

Neil MacNeill awoke with a start. He could feel his heart palpitating fiercely in his chest cavity, his body and sheets moist with sweat. After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, his breathing began to return to normal as he surveyed his surroundings and saw that he was in his own bed and in his cabin. He was alone. For once in his life, he felt blessedly relieved by that fact.

For the fifth night in a row, Neil had been stunned into an abrupt state of awakening by a powerful and intense nightmare. It was the same horrendous vision he had been having since he witnessed young Jessie O'Connor bleed to death after giving birth to a stillborn son. At first he would see memories of himself as an onlooker in the O'Connor cabin with Robert crumpled over his wife's lifeless body, weeping uncontrollably. But then the dreams always seemed to take on an even darker and more twisted form, where it became Neil hovering over Margaret's dead body and eventually, over Christy's.

Though it was still several hours before daylight, Neil swung his feet over the edge of his bed and placed them on the cold wood planks below. He rose and went to the wash basin, splashing his face with icy water. He could feel the sting of sleep deprivation when the water hit his tired eyes, but he knew he could not go back to sleep. The nightmare was too vivid, too awful. He would rather face the new day knowing how little rest he had gotten than risk being swallowed up by the darkness and into another one of those horrifying nightmares. He would just have to find a way to get through another day, Neil thought, as he signed deeply and began to dress.

***

Dan Scott could not help but notice that Doctor MacNeill seemed particularly distracted and moody during their training session at his cabin. Typically a patient and highly focused mentor, today the Scotsman was incredibly curt, irritable, and inattentive. Dan observed that the doctor repeated himself several times not realizing he had done so, his mind obviously not on their work but elsewhere. Dan wondered what might be wrong, although he had his suspicions. As a litmus test, he changed the subject to a certain young school teacher who he guessed might be the object of Doctor MacNeill's thoughts.

"You just missed Christy when you came by," Dan remarked cautiously. He eyed the doctor speculatively for even the slightest sign that might verify his hypothesis and reveal the source of Neil's agitation.

Neil kept his head down, his gaze fixed upon his medical journal. "Oh?" he simply replied. Outwardly, he appeared nonplussed, but Dan thought he saw a hint of a twinge cross the doctor's stoic face.

"Mmmhmm," Dan began, taking Neil's reaction as a signal to continue. "Christy stopped by and brought a pile of things for the cabin. Linens, dishes, other household items that the Mission didn't need or have use for. House plunder, she says folks in the Cove call." Dan chuckled lightly and then kept talking even as Neil failed to look up or show real interest, attempting to conceal his thoughts by focusing on a particular article.

"Even brought some paper tablets for me to keep notes from our training. I'd run out weeks ago and had to rely on memory ever since."

"I wondered why you'd been asking the same questions multiple times," Neil simply replied, head still down.

"She sure has a knack for knowin' what people need even without them askin'." Dan Scott paused again and tried hard to gauge Neil's reaction. "Christy asked about you. Wondered how you were doin'."

"Did she?" Neil finally looked up and made eye contact with Dan. He seemed even more irritated all of the sudden. "And did she happen to mention why she was inquiring about me?"

Neil had his fill of all this talk of Christy Huddleston. He wondered if the reason for Dan Scott's sudden change of topic had anything to do with his drunken tirade the previous week. Neil wondered if Christy had said anything to Dan about it.

"No," Dan shook his head and furrowed his brow in question. "Does there need to be a special reason to ask how a friend's doin'?"

Now it was Neil's turn to examine Dan Scott. The perceptive doctor studied dark eyes filled with honest concern and came to the conclusion, based on his reply and expression, that Dan did not know about what happened between him and Christy. He felt a wave of relief wash over him. The last thing he needed was Dan Scott making him feel even guiltier than he already felt.

Neil did not answer his question. He wanted to get back to the business of medicine where everything seemed to follow scientific reasoning and logic and not think about his personal problems. His life was far too complicated, and even if he questioned his skills as a physician, that world was something he could understand and make sense of whereas Christy Huddleston remained an enigma to him.

"If you're finished singing the praises of Miss Huddleston, I'd like to get on with our training," Neil said with exasperation.

But the rest of the afternoon, Neil MacNeill found he could still not fully focus on the task at hand. Even after their lesson ended and he was back in the sanctuary of his cabin, hearing the peaceful rush of the river in the background, he could not stop thinking about what Dan had said. "She sure has a knack of knowin' what people need even without them askin'." Neil smiled in spite of himself at the thought, knowing just how much truth was contained in the statement.

After another fruitless attempt to fight sleep in hopes of preventing the frightening dreams that had recurred every night for the past week, Neil's tired body and weary mind eventually succumbed to the power of the darkness. Once again, he slept fitfully and was plagued by the memories of that dreadful night in Raven Gap. This night, amidst the nightmarish visions, he dreamt of Christy, only it was unlike the previous ones.

Neil did not remember the details of the dream, but he awoke with a temporary lightness and optimism in his spirit, feeling better than he had since the terrible event. He racked his brain trying to remember but could not recall what Christy had said to him in the vision. All he knew was she had been there, not lying on her deathbed as she was in the earlier nightmares, but instead, she was smiling at him with an expression of serenity and bliss. She handed him a piece of paper. When Neil read the words on the paper, words that he wished with all his might that he could recall, all his fears and worries seemed to vanish. Suddenly everything seemed right.

The rest of the night, Neil slept soundly and peacefully for the first time a week.

***

Chapter 34

The sweet, clear sound of singing began to grow louder as Neil approached the cabin through the dense woods. The lovely brightness of Aunt Hattie's voice intermingled with the warbling of birds sitting high atop cabin in the now bare trees. Before Neil had a chance to call out to notify his aunt of his presence, the sound of a snapping branch beneath heavy boots told her that she was no longer alone.

"Who is it?" Aunt Hattie asked pleasantly, pausing her ballad.

"It's me, Aunt Hattie," Neil said. "I came to check on you and bring you some extra beans and cornbread I received as payment for services rendered." He stepped onto the front porch and guided the items into his blind aunt's outstretched hands.

"Thank ye, Neil. It's always so good of ye to stop in on me." She smiled warmly at her nephew and accepted the string of dried beans and parcel of cornbread. "These will do nicely for supper. Why don't ye come set a spell while I prepare the noonday meal?"

Neil shuffled his feet a bit, slightly uncomfortable. He loved his Aunt Hattie dearly, but he wasn't sure he was in the mood for a visit. The blind woman, acute in her other senses, felt Neil's hesitation and urged him to stay.

"Oh, it won't take long," she assured him. "'Sides, I always enjoy yer visits, and it's been a while."

Neil felt a little guilty. Aunt Hattie was right. Between increased sickness from the cold weather and his endless rounds of patient visits, his training sessions with Dan Scott, and his recent foul mood, it had indeed been a while since he saw his aunt. "I'm sorry I have not come by in many weeks," he confessed. "I have been quite preoccupied as of late."

Aunt Hattie pulled out a chair and Neil took the signal and sat down. She began to prepare lunch, working deftly in the kitchen so that an onlooker would never know that she could not see. Everything was in its place, and Aunt Hattie reached for various cooking implements and ingredients that she needed based on muscle memory. While she stood by the stove, she caught the sweet and spicy aroma of Neil's pipe the second the match hit the tobacco.

"I always loved the smell of pipe," Aunt Hattie mused. "Reminds me of yer uncle before he died."

Neil puffed on the end of his silver-tipped pipe heartily, the smoke swirling around his ruddy curls while he sat at the table in Hattie's outdoor kitchen. "I find it helps me to think at times," he told her.

With her keen intuition, Aunt Hattie quickly sensed that something was wrong with Neil. He was not his usual self.

"Ye seem troubled, Neil," she remarked, stirring the thick rabbit stew (game provided courtesy of Daniel Scott) that bubbled on her stovetop. Leaving lunch to simmer for a while, Hattie walked towards the old stone hearth that had stood for over a hundred years and stoked the fire until she could feel the warmth on her cheeks.

Extinguishing the orange glowing embers in his pipe, Neil sighed audibly with a hint of a smile. "Even though you're sightless, Auntie, I see I cannot pull the wool over your eyes."

The fine-boned woman moved to the table and sat down beside Neil. She listened, quietly absorbing everything, as he told her about what had happened with the O'Connors in Raven Gap and how he behaved towards Christy when she came to see him afterwards.

"I felt the strong need to push her away, so she would not get hurt in the long run. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time." He fidgeted nervously, alternating between stroking the yellowed ivory of his pipe and scratching the back of his neck where the hairs tickled at the nape. "But I'm afraid I have hurt Christy to the point where our friendship is beyond repair," Neil revealed sadly.

"Ye've taken on too many burdens, Neil," Aunt Hattie replied. "Yer a good doctor, and ye did all ye could. The people of the Cove love and respect ye for yer healin' skills. Ye need to remember that now and again, and not take everything so much to heart." She reached out her hand and laid it gently on Neil's cheek. She smiled at him reassuringly. "But then, ye were always so sensitive, Neil MacNeill, even as a boy. Ye were too hard on yerself when somethin' didn't go just right. But ye can't let it eat ye alive."

Neil nodded in understanding. "I suppose it's that I have always expected perfection in myself, and I get angry when I cannot achieve it."

Through senses of smell and sound, Hattie could tell that the stew was ready. The aroma wafted over where she and Neil sat, and the lazily, less frequent popping of bubbles signaled that the liquid was sufficiently thickened. She rose from the table and went to the stove to dish servings for Neil and herself. She then sat down back down at the table in front of the steaming plates and reached out her hands to him. "I know yer not a believin' man, Neil, but would ye please pray with me?"

Neil accepted the hands outstretched to him and said, "Of course, Auntie."

Hattie smiled and then closed her eyes to pray. "Lord, thank ye for the food on this table and company of my kin. I humbly ask that ye watch over my nephew Neil, and help him during these troubled times. Please help him release the heavy burdens he carries. Amen."

They ate for a while in silence while Hattie pondered the situation between Neil and Christy. When they were finished eating, she cleared the table and put the dirty dishes in a pan of water to soak.

Rising from his seat, Neil buttoned up his heavy coat in preparation to leave. "I'd better be going now. Thank you for the tasty stew, Aunt Hattie. And the talk," he added.

Hattie pulled Neil into an embrace, patting him lovingly on the back. "It's my pleasure, Neil. I hope next time ye won't wait so long to come visit yer old auntie."

"I won't. I promise." Neil smiled, his mood obviously improved thanks to his time spent with his favorite aunt and only living relative in the Cove.

Before he turned to leave, Hattie pulled him back around to face her once more. Her bright blue eyes suddenly seemed to peer into Neil's with a tremendous power and insight, despite that fact that she had lost her eyesight to trachoma years ago. "I hope ye manage to set things right with the school teacher, Neil. I may be a blind ole woman, but it's as plain as day that you and Miz Christy share a special relationship."

He dropped his gaze from hers even though it was unnecessary. She squeezed his hand affectionately and continued, "What you two share is a gift from the Lord. Ye can't turn yer back on it. Not because yer afraid of gettin' hurt, Neil."

Neil nodded in acquiescence. His Aunt Hattie was a smart woman, he realized, and extremely perceptive. "Thank you, Auntie. I'll take it into consideration."

With one final hug goodbye, Neil stepped off her front porch and trudged through the thick wooded area back to his cabin. His conversation with Aunt Hattie had given him a lot to chew on while he walked home with nothing but his own thoughts to accompany him.

Neil felt awful about his abominable behavior towards Christy. She was his friend…his best friend. She meant more to him than he wanted to admit, and he had deliberately pushed her away and hurt her. And why? He wondered. He had told himself it was because he realized that he sometimes felt helpless as a physician and a healer. Neil had convinced himself that he was doing the right thing because he feared he would only hurt her in the end. The reasons he felt so strongly about not long ago suddenly seemed both absurd and foolish. Even worse, he knew the rationale to be untrue.

As the bitter wind throbbed against his ears during the long walk home, Neil realized that his actions were not done to protect Christy from harm, but to protect himself. He was the one with the potential for being hurt, of being rejected, and he was afraid of feeling vulnerable in light of his feelings for Christy. Neil had tried to squelch the love he felt for her in his heart, but he found that he was unable to. But his feelings and lack of control over them were not Christy's fault, Neil knew.

The sound of water rushing over rocks soon drowned out everything else as Neil approached his cabin. He paused and walked towards the river, letting the peaceful rhythms of nature ease his turmoil and quiet his mind. Neil stood staring for several long minutes into the murky depths and watched the white water lapping against large stones, bringing fish to skim up to the surface only to disappear again in a flash.

Dan Scott's words from the day before once again entered his mind when he remembered how Christy had found Margaret that day by the river. Somehow, it seemed like ages ago. But Christy did seem to have an innate sense for knowing when people needed her, Neil admitted. Not only was she there when Margaret needed someone, but Christy had been there when he needed her, too. That humid, restless spring night by the river not long after Margaret's disappearance, Neil came upon Christy after she had wandered all the way from the Mission. Somehow, she must have known that he needed her, even before he knew himself.

Still entranced by the river, Neil exhaled slowly and deliberately, his warm breath casting steamy clouds against the winter chill. Yes, he realized, he needed Christy. And he needed to set things right with her again. Only he was not sure how he would do it. Fortunately for Neil MacNeill, Christy was of a similar mindset.

Across the Cove, the young schoolteacher stood out on the balcony outside her room, eyes focused on the serene vista of the Great Smokey Mountains in the misty distance. These mountains, with their jagged peaks that had stood for thousands of years, always comforted and soothed Christy. They were a constant and steady presence even as the lives of those who lived among them were forever changing and in flux.

Christy breathed in the fresh mountain air deeply. As the coldness stung her nostrils and burned her lungs, she found it made her feel strangely more alive. Drawing strength from the sunset-lit ranges that seemed to stretch out to the vault of the sky, Christy Huddleston began to formulate a plan.

***

TO BE CONTINUED

Thanks to everyone for your wonderful feedback! Sorry for the delay in getting these chapters up. Life has been busy. I hope to write more this week.