"Then the Lord God said, 'It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.'"
~Genesis 2:18
Chapter Four
"We could smell the stew as we rode up to your cabin," Christy said. "May I stir it or prepare something else?"
Miss Hattie chuckled. Christy wondered if Hattie could hear the nervousness in her voice. She knew it was important to make a good impression on Hattie McCabe. She was the only relative of Neil's in the Cove and Christy knew he cared for her very much. Hattie was special to Neil and Christy wanted to be special to both of them, too.
"I think it's all done," Hatte answered. "It just needs a few more minutes to heat all the way up. I'm more interested in knowing you better. I get lots of visitors, and over the last few weeks you have been a popular subject."
Christy laughed. "Is that a good thing?"
"Oh yes! I have heard nothing but good things about you, Miss Christy. Some of the older students come by, like John Spencer and Rob Allen. I let them hunt through here as long as they stop and say hello. They are certainly happy to have you for their teacher."
"Thank you for saying that." Christy smiled, even though Hattie couldn't see it. "Some days I struggle."
"We all do, child. You simply must do the best you can with what the Lord has given you. Have you heard that Opal McHone had her baby today?"
"No!" Christy exclaimed. "It must have been during school because the boys did not mention it and I know they were anxious for the child. Is it a girl like Granny Barclay predicted?"
"Yes, it is. Granny Barclay is never wrong with predicting the sex of a baby. She stopped here on her way home after the delivery and let me know. Fairlight was there of course to help Opal, too."
"I have already become very close to Fairlight," Christy said. "I will have to stop and see the new baby. Perhaps early next week after she has had a time to recover a bit."
"I am certain Opal would like that."
They were quiet for a moment, the only sound in the small cabin was the crackling of the wood in the fireplace. Christy remembered what Neil had said about Hattie's singing and stories.
"Dr. MacNeill tells me that you are a wonderful storyteller, Miss Hattie. I think Rob Allen also has that gift."
"Tell me, do you call my nephew Dr. MacNeill when you two are together?" Hattie had a beautiful, if teasing, smile.
Christy laughed. "No, unless we are around others. He is becoming a very good friend."
"I am glad to hear that," Miss Hattie said. "He needs a good friend; someone he can turn to for support when life gets too hard. I am not really certain he has had anyone like that since his brother died."
Christy wanted to ask Miss Hattie about Neil's wife. Had she not been there for him? It was not her place to gossip, though, and if Neil wanted her to know about the mysterious Margaret, he would tell her.
"Do you mind that I am meeting Mr. Taylor here?" Christy asked. She knew Neil had arranged it, but she still worried she was invading Hattie's privacy.
"No, not at all. Neil told me what Lundy did at school. I hope Birdseye will listen to you. He is a stubborn man just like so many that live in these mountains. Gotta be hard headed to make it here."
Christy didn't know how to reply without offending Hattie. How was the tough woman able to live here all on her own? Christy knew even with her own abilities she would struggle. But blind?
"Could you set the table, Miss Christy?" Hattie asked. "The plates are in the cabinet next to the oven."
"Of course. I would be pleased to." Christy stood and occupied herself with the plates and utensils. She liked to have her hands busy, and although she was comfortable with Miss Hattie, she was dreading what she would face when she met Birdseye Taylor. "What is Birdseye Taylor like?"
"Oh, I suppose he is what folks in the city think we're all like up here. I haven't actually seen him for many years of course, but he always looked like an ill-kempt hillbilly. Toward me, he has always been polite as can be. I let him hunt up here, too." When Miss Hattie smiled, she looked years younger. "Seems I have lots of varmints roaming through my land."
Christy laughed. "I suppose it's good to have the men hunting then, or you would be overrun by rabbits and squirrels."
"And possum and coons."
Christy laughed. "Ruby Mae Morrison helps at the mission. Her favorite dishes have possum in them." She laughed even harder. "'Possum surprise' is her most favorite and none of us know for certain just what the meat is that she uses. Miss Alice thinks one day the morning oatmeal will have possum in it."
Miss Hattie laughed. "Now that I do not think I could eat."
"I thought that about the possum, but most evenings I am so hungry after a full day of teaching it does not even bother me anymore."
"Did you eat possum in Asheville?"
"Ah… No." Christy did not want to offend the sweet woman, who likely had only had wild game most of her life. "My father's favorite meal is a pork roast, so Mother makes certain to have that at least once a week. Personally, I love beef and chicken, but I have learned, since coming to Cutter Gap it's best to not be too particular."
Miss Hattie laughed. "Some of our meals in the mountains are definitely an acquired taste." She chuckled again and then stood. "It sounds like they are coming."
Christy heard nothing for several minutes, and then she heard Charlie's hoof beats and another horse coming also. Hattie's sense of hearing was amazing, just as Neil had suggested. Christy remained seated. She was nervous to meet Birdseye.
"We're here!" Neil's booming voice filled the air before he entered.
Christy did stand when she saw him, but still held onto the edge of the table, worried her shakiness would transfer to her legs. How embarrassing would it be to crumple to the floor in front of Mr. Taylor?
"Howdy, Miss Hattie."
Birdseye Taylor was more or less what Christy had expected. Skinny, bearded, dressed in overalls, and wearing a beat up old felt hat, he did look exactly like how Christy had pictured a hillbilly before her arrival in Cutter Gap.
"Hello, Mr. Taylor. I am so glad you could join us for dinner," Miss Hattie welcomed him, holding out her hand. "I would like you to meet the new schoolteacher, Miss Christy Huddleston."
"Ma'am." Mr. Taylor tipped his hat.
"She wants to talk with you about Lundy, Mr. Taylor," Miss Hattie told him. "I thought we could enjoy a nice meal while you get to know her."
Christy smiled at Mr. Taylor.
"Miss Christy," Hattie asked, "could you help me dish up the stew?"
"Of course," Christy answered.
As the men made themselves comfortable at the table, Christy listened as Neil spoke with Birdseye about his latest hunt. It sounded like the man was quite successful with his gun. She supposed that could be good or bad depending what he was hunting- man or beast.
"Miss Christy, could you hand me the bread? The apple butter and honey are in the corner of the counter."
Christy quickly did as Miss Hattie asked. She then went to work scooping up bowls of thick vegetable stew. She placed one in front of Birdseye first, then Neil, then Miss Hattie who had taken her seat and finally Christy took a bowl for herself and sat next to Neil. He took her hand under the table and gave it a squeeze before letting it go. Could he tell she was so uncertain?
They bowed their heads as Hattie said a quick prayer over the meal and soon everyone was enjoying their dinner. Christy had learned not to ever ask what sort of meat was served, but whatever it was, it was quite delicious.
"Mr. Taylor, Miss Christy was telling me that Lundy has stopped coming to school." Hattie looked toward the man, although her eyes could see nothing. "Did you know he was missing school?"
Birdseye gave Christy a hard look. "Miss Hattie, Lundy reported to me that Miss Christy done took a switch to him in front of everyone."
"Mr. Taylor, I did no such thing," she gasped. "Mr. Taylor, Lundy is only a little smaller than Doctor MacNeill isn't he?"
"Aye." As the man nodded, bits of dirt fell off his hat and landed on the table.
Ignoring the mess he made, she stood up. "Doctor MacNeill could you stand for a moment, please?"
He smiled, chewing on his stew, and did as she asked. Christy was just barely over five feet tall, while Neil was at least six feet tall, and although he was more muscular than Lundy, the size was enough to compare.
"Mr. Taylor, do you think I could take a switch to your son? Look how small I am in comparison." She gestured to Neil with her palm up. "Do you think Lundy would stay long enough for me to catch him?"
Neil sat back down and dug back into his stew, a small smile still on his face.
"You sayin' my boy lied." It was a statement, not a question.
"I am just showing you that I could not physically harm Lundy even if I needed to." She struggled to keep her voice even. "For example, when he and another student began brawling, I could not pull them apart. I am simply too small." She sat back down.
"Aunt Hattie, Miss Huddleston is a tiny thing," Neil said, his smile widening as he glanced at here. "Lundy has grown into a large young man, much larger than his teacher."
"I reckon I owes you an apology, Miss." Birdseye pushed his hat back on his head and then scratched his beard. "I oughta have met ya before I judged ya."
"I am just glad to meet you today," Christy told him. "May I get you more stew?" She held out his hand to refill his bowl.
He nodded and handed it to her.
"Why'd he come racin' home? What'd he done to get him throwed from school?"
After she handed the full bowl back to Birdseye, she held out her hand for Neil's empty bowl. He shook his head and grabbed another slice of bread instead. She sat down again.
"He tackled one of the little boys." She met Birdeye's eyes. "The younger boy went to fetch a ball that had gone under the school building, but before he could get under the building the boy was laying hurt, on the ground."
"Is that right?" Birdseye asked.
She nodded. "Lundy was not playing ball with the boys, so I'm not certain why he would be so interested in a ball going under the school." She took a sip of her water, her eyes never leaving Birdseye.
She knew… that he knew… that she knew… what was hidden under the school. She was not going to admit what was there, because there was no need for Miss Hattie to know, and David had asked to handle it with Miss Alice, so Christy should probably not tell Neil.
"Can't rightly say, Miss." His eyes were sharp as if judging if Christy really knew what was stored under the school.
"I would like him to come back to school, Mr. Taylor," Christy said. "I would welcome a chance to teach him."
"Aw, I ain't gonna send him back to cause you no more pain. His brain ain't made fer learnin'. He be just like his damn maw; addlepated and dim witted."
She opened her mouth to argue, but Neil grabbed her hand again, a warning, she decided, and held back her argument. She would admit he knew Birdseye far better and decided to trust his instinct. Unlike pulling away as he had earlier, he threaded his fingers through hers, resting on his thigh.
"Miss Hattie." Her voice seemed husky to her ears. Why, with a single touch, did he create such excitement in her body? She swallowed. "Would you like more stew?"
"No, thank you." She wiped her mouth. "It was so pleasant to have company for dinner. Miss Christy what was Lundy learning before he left school?"
In honesty, not much. He had been so defiant and mean she tried to avoid him as much as possible. Of course, she could not say that out loud.
"I had just begun reading David Copperfield with the older boys," she said instead. "My father sent five copies of the book so I thought the older ones could read it as a group and discuss it together."
Birdseye looked at her. "He mentioned that." He nodded. "I found him reading it one day, too, when he was supposed to be doing his chores."
Was he mad at her for assigning the reading? "Most of the reading was done in class, but I do think some of the boys were enjoying it enough to read outside class."
She knew there was a standing feud between the Allen family and the Taylors, so Christy would not mention that Rob Allen had devoured the book in only a few days or that John Spencer was almost finished also.
"I am glad that he was enjoying it," she said.
"Well, I reckon I best be goin'." Birdseye stood. "Thank ye Miss Hattie for dinner. I can't be promisin' nothin' Miss, but I'll be talkin' ta Lundy about his lying to me about ye hurtin' him. There ain't no way you coulda done what he said. I reckon his hand weighs more than yer whole body."
Christy nodded. "I'm glad to have met you, Mr. Taylor."
After the door closed behind Birdseye, Miss Hattie smiled. "You did very well, Miss Christy. He can be a tough one, but I think you made an impression."
"I don't remember reading David Copperfield," Neil said. He rested his back against his chair and pushed his plate forward. "Aunt Hattie may I smoke?"
"Of course, Neil." Miss Hattie stood up and started to clear dishes.
"You visit," Christy said. She let go of Neil's hand and stood up. "I'll be glad to clean up. Dinner was delicious. I have an extra copy of the book, Dr. MacNeill if you would like it?"
"I might take you up on that offer." He smiled at her.
"Well, I say food always tastes better with good company, and what fine company the two of you are!" Miss Hattie answered.
Christy felt so much lighter, as if the weight of the world had been removed from her shoulders. Yes, there was still moonshine hidden under the school, but she had been more concerned about having Mr. Taylor as her enemy. She had seen in his clear blue eyes as they ate, that he held no resentment toward her, and he obviously realized she could not hurt his son. She would leave the moonshine to David and Alice.
As she cleaned up the dishes in the hot water, she listened as Neil told his aunt about a few of the medical calls he had taken lately. He puffed on his pipe as he told her about the lecture, he had given earlier that day at school, and Miss Hattie laughed as he explained in detail about the faces and reactions of the children.
"I think I may have even kept Miss Huddleston interested."
When Christy turned with a smile, he winked at her. She shook her head, still smiling. He had kept her interested. His story about Bonnie Prince Charlie had been so very engaging, time had flown.
"I wondered as he was speaking how much embellishment he was adding to the tale, Miss Hattie." She gave him a teasing smile.
"You doubt I was completely honest?" he chided.
Christy reached up and put the plates in the cabinet. "No. Stories tend to expand a bit as time goes on. Like the fish that was only five inches that eventually turned into five feet." She laughed.
"Aunt Hattie I told the story just as Pa told me. Certainly, he told me the whole truth, don't you think?"
Miss Hattie laughed. "I wish you could have met my brother, Miss Christy. He was a character, always telling stories. Do you know Uncle Bogg?"
"I do," Christy admitted.
"Neil's Pa told tall tales just like Bogg. Of course, I enjoyed my brother's stories better because they were usually about our family. Story telling is important in the mountains. Most can't read, Miss Christy, and the stories passed on down is all we have to remember our history." Miss Hattie's face brightened. "Someone else is coming. I reckon it sounds like Rob Allen or John Spencer. I get them two mixed up lately."
"John has shot up a good six inches this year. He's gonna be a tall man," Neil told her.
"That'd be why. His strides are getting longer, like Rob's."
Pounding sounded on the door and Neil stood up quickly to answer it.
"What's wrong, Rob?"
Christy turned to see Rob with sweat running down his face. Surely, he could not have run the whole five or six miles from the Allen's mill? Then again, if it was to help his family, to which he was firmly devoted, he likely would have run much further.
"Little Burl's fighting a fever, and his side is swollen and hurting something fierce. Can you come, Doc?"
"Of course." He turned to Christy. "Will you help me?"
She felt her stomach drop.
"Miss Huddleston, I need you," Neil said, with a sense of urgency in his voice. "Alice is gone until at least tonight to Big Lick Springs."
"I almost fainted during Bob's surgery," she whispered.
"You won't do that again. Come on." He kissed Aunt Hattie's head. "We will be back to visit soon."
"Miss Hattie, I put everything away except the stew pot," Christy told her. "Thank you for dinner."
She squeezed Christy's hand. "Come back soon."
Christy nodded and said, "Yes," before following Rob and Neil from the cabin. She closed the door quietly behind her.
"Rob, you take Miss Huddleston's horse, and ride to the mission to wait for Miss Alice or tell the Grantlands to send her when she gets home," Neil ordered. He turned to her, "You can ride with me."
She nodded, knowing that every second counted and if Burl was as sick as Rob thought, the sooner they got there the better. She grabbed the hand Neil held out for her and soon she was on the back of Charlie, holding onto Neil's waist.
"It's my fault, Neil." Christy said. Her heart was so full of despair she started to cry.
"It is not your fault, Christy Huddleston." His voice was firm and that somehow comforted her. "Lundy attacked him."
"I wasn't able to protect my student," she cried. "What if he dies?"
"He's not going to die." He growled. Was he angry? Did she think he did not trust his skills?
She fell into silent prayer. Knowing Neil wasn't a firm believer in the power and strength of the Lord, she felt it was up to her. Dear Lord, I did my best to help Little Burl. I checked his wound and told Rob about it, but somehow it hasn't healed. Lundy is too big for me to hold off, but I should have been watching him instead of the clouds with Mountie and Lulu. God, please give Dr. MacNeill the knowledge and strength to save Little Burl. You have given him such amazing skills as a physician, please guide him. God, please give me the peace of mind to help him when I struggle so much with blood. Amen.
It took some time to get down the mountain to the Allen's cabin. Neil pushed Charlie hard to get there as fast as he could gallop. When they arrived, Neil hopped down and grabbed her by the waist and set her down. He grabbed his saddle bags and rushed into the cabin.
Christy could hear Mary moaning to Bob about having to dig a new grave this year. Christy immediately felt overwhelmed by the sight she found. Burl was laid out on the table, in his underwear, unbuttoned over his small tummy which was distended and an ugly red.
"Teacher you'll stay with me, won't ya?" he begged.
"Of course, Little Burl."
"Mary, do you have water boiling for me?" Neil asked gently.
"Doc it ain't gonna hurt, is it?" Burl's tears made a path down his pale face and she wanted to cry, too.
"You can hold my hand real tight, Little Burl and you won't feel a thing," Christy answered, glancing up at Neil, hoping she was right.
Mary brought the water and set it on the edge of a smaller table.
"Christy put the instruments in the boiled water and then once I have the screen up, I'll set them out. I'll just need you to hand them to me when I ask."
Eyes wide, she nodded. She swallowed back her fear and continued to pray. Peace and clarity suddenly overcame Christy, taking away the heaviness from her heart. She needed to help Neil save Little Burl. It was no longer about the blood and surgery but rather, Christy's faith was challenged and God won. He gave Christy the strength to be a helpmate to Dr. MacNeill. Something had shifted inside her, she wanted to laugh at the happiness that filled her, but knew no one else would understand, especially the stubborn Scot standing next to her.
"Creed can you pick up Scalawag, please?" Neil asked softly. "Little Burl doesn't need him right now."
"Something is wrong in Burl's belly, Doc," Mary Allen moaned.
Christy was impressed Neil held his tongue. It was all too obvious Burl's stomach was in bad condition. Christy had noticed from the first meeting with Neil he had been very gentle and kind to Mary. As Christy came to know her better, she realized Mary was a very simple woman, proud of Bob's mill and perfectly content caring for her family. She wanted for nothing, and accepted everything she had with pride and happiness.
"Bob, remember that diggin' tool somebody left inside? I told you—" Mary whined.
"Bob, could you sit with Mary on the porch?" Neil asked.
"Don't make me leave, Doc, not my Little Burl. He needs his Ma."
"Come on Mary," Bob encouraged, pulling her out the door. "Doc and Miss Christy have to help him now."
Christy prayed again as Dr. MacNeill made the first incision. Although the blood and scent of ether made her uncomfortable, a beautiful objectivity was given to her. Along with the objectivity came overwhelming joy and thankfulness, and appreciation of Neil's sturdy hands, moving gently over the belly of the small boy she had come to care for so much. Soon Neil had opened the boy enough to expose a large pocket of pus, an abscess he called it.
"It's amazing he is still alive, Christy," Neil whispered. "Towels, please."
She handed him the small towels and watched as he soaked up the putrid smelling pus. He handed them back to her and she placed them in the burlap bag he had designated for the garbage.
She studied him as he worked. That single strand of curly sweet potato colored hair hung over his forehead, but he seemed oblivious to it. His eyes were a study in concentration as he removed what appeared almost a full cup of infection from Burl's stomach. Neil had such a strong profile, rugged and handsome. She knew that moment, that she had never felt so close to another person, working together as a team to help a little boy live.
When he looked up, he noticed Christy was watching his face, not the operation. She had never seen such a tender look in his eyes and it made her heart rate soar.
"Don't worry," he whispered, his voice gentler than she had ever heard. "His heart beats strong and you are doing just fine, Christy."
She smiled gently at him, struck anew by the fluttering even his gaze triggered in her body.
Once he was satisfied with the removal of infection, he began to stitch the incision partially closed. "I will leave a drain inside for a time to make certain no more infection builds up," he explained to her. "Mary said he has had a fever for several days and I wish she had sent for me sooner because she tried to cure it with all the wrong things."
Together, they took down the linens and Dr. MacNeill moved the small boy with deliberate care into his bed. "He will sleep better here. The ether should wear off soon and he must be watched closely." He called Mary and Bob inside. "He cannot be touched or moved," he said firmly. "There is a drain in his side and it must stay in place until I am satisfied he is healing."
"Can't I hold him, Doc?" Mary asked.
"No Mary," he sighed. "He must not move, so someone must watch him so he remains completely still."
"Thank you, Doc," Bob Allen said. "We can sit with him for now if you're needed elsewhere."
"No, I will stay, but I must wash up and get some air," Neil told him. "Miss Huddleston I would have a word with you outside once I've cleaned up."
"Alright," Christy agreed.
She looked at Burl one more time before walking out the door and sitting on the porch steps. She wasn't certain how long she sat there, but his voice startled her.
"I need to talk to you about something," Neil told her. "Come down to the mill with me?"
She stood up and followed him down the path to Bob's one room mill. It was built right along the Blackberry Creek in a beautiful location surrounded by tall willow trees. Neil opened the door and allowed her to enter ahead of him. Fading light from the windows at the top of the building cast an odd glare down on them, with corn dust particles floating like glitter through the air.
He shut the door and immediately pulled her against him. "You did so well, Christy," he whispered against her hair. "I could not have done that without you."
His action startled her, but she liked the feel of his strong arms around her, just as she liked holding his hand. She liked this man, and saw no reason now to allow him to hold her. Somehow, she thought, she might be taking some of his fatigue and pain as she tightened her hold on him. He was the strongest man she had ever met; dealt with life and death all alone, day in and day out, year after year. Remembering what Miss Hattie said about him having no one to confide made her squeeze him even harder.
"You amaze me with your calm, Neil. Inside, I was shaking the whole time, but your hands… they were so gentle yet firm." She pulled back just enough to see his face. "How do you do it?"
A sad grin appeared on his face. "Practice? Sadly, it is the truth."
"Even when Bob was injured you tried that surgery you had never done before. A trephine, isn't that what you called it?"
"Yes."
"Something you had never done, you went into blindly, and saved his life. You even went against Ault Allen to save his brother." She shook her head. "You amaze me, Doctor. How can you do so many different types of surgery?"
"What do they say? Jack of all trades, master of none?"
"I doubt that is true," she argued. "I believe you are a master of many things."
"Perhaps I'm more of a master of one thing, than others. I will share that with you one day," he answered. He hugged her again, kissed her forehead, and then took a step back, but continued holding her hand. "At Aunt Hattie's cabin you said Lundy attacked Burl when Burl went to crawl under the building a rescue a ball."
She nodded.
"Do you know why Lundy would care if Burl rescued the ball?"
She nodded and then looked down at her shoes. "I can't say, Neil. I'm sorry, but I promised I would let David handle it when Miss Alice came back."
When she looked up, his face was cold, hard. She swallowed.
"Do you not trust me?" he demanded; his voice hard.
"I do!" she cried. She tightened her grip on his hand. "I just promised David, and I do not want to get you involved in the… situation."
"Fine then." His lips twisted into an ugly frown. He dropped her hand and stepped away. "I better get back."
"Neil… I would tell you, if I could…"
"But you promised the preacher… I understand." He threw open the door and stalked away, presumably back to the house.
She wanted to tell him, to confide in him, but she could not. He left her there in the dusty mill. She moved outside, near the creek, watching the wheel turn, her heart hurting that she could not be honest with him. As the excitement from the successful operation wore off, she found herself crying, still blaming herself for not being able to keep all the little children safe at school.
