"Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him."
~John 9 1-3
Chapter Six
The sound of retching reached his ears, despite Charlie's loud hoof beats. Neil slowed the horse to a walk, trying to decide which direction the sound was coming from. Then he saw Christy leaning against a tree.
He hopped down and tied the horse's reins to the nearest tree before rushing down the hill toward the river where she stood with her eyes closed. He reached her just as she leaned over to throw up again.
He pulled her hair over her shoulder and rubbed her back. "Breathe, Christy. Nice, even breaths."
She nodded and followed his directions before straightening and leaning against the tree again. He touched her forehead, expecting to find a fever, but was pleased that, despite her flushed cheeks, she was not hot.
"Did you eat something that upset your stomach?" he asked.
She shook her head, and kept her eyes closed.
"I'm going to fetch a towel. I'll be right back. Don't move."
His mind suddenly raced with the possibilities of what could have made her sick. If she had not eaten anything, had no fever, why would she be heaving? The river was near and he wet the towel from his saddlebags before coming back to her. As far as he could tell she had not moved an inch.
"Does your head ache?"
She shook her head no, still breathing deeply as he had suggested.
With the wet towel, he gently rubbed her face and her neck, surprised she didn't put up a fight. When she was thoroughly wiped down, he rolled the towel and wrapped it around the back of her neck. He felt her pulse at the base of neck, and although it was a little fast, he wasn't worried.
"Open your mouth," he whispered.
She opened her eyes instead. They were bloodshot and rubbed red.
"I said your mouth, Christy, not your eyes." He chuckled. "I have a peppermint to settle your stomach."
She reached out her hand and after taking it, plopped it in her mouth before leaning back against the tree. She closed her eyes again, and he wondered how long she would make him wait before explaining her behavior.
"You've been crying." He was not feeling particularly patient at the moment.
She nodded again.
"Damn it, woman, tell me what the blazes is wrong!"
Her eyes shot open. "How dare you talk to me like that Neil MacNeill." She threw the towel at him and then tried to sidestep him.
He was quicker. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his chest. The sobs quickly began and he sighed. She needed tenderness and he had responded with frustration.
"Sweetheart, tell me what happened," he whispered when her crying had slowed.
"I went to the O'Teales," she answered. She pulled back and looked up at him. "What am I doing here? How can I help children when they live like that?"
She stepped away from him and began to march away. He debated following her, thinking she needed time to compose herself, but he went anyway.
"I have never been so disgusted in my whole life," she said over her shoulder. She was crying again, he could hear it in her voice even though she was stalking away from him. "Piles of manure, a stench so strong I almost threw up before I even got in the hovel and then…" She stopped walking and turned back to him a look of exasperation on her face. She shook her head and kept going without saying anything else.
He watched her go, before he went back to fetch Charlie. He followed after her. He wondered, if when she was upset like this, if she could actually beat Charlie in a race. When he neared, he pulled in front of her, stopping her progress. He held his hand down to help her climb up behind him. She shook her head and stomped away. He chuckled and shook his head. Spitfire.
He jumped off Charlie and tried to grab her hand but she pulled it away.
"Why did you go to the O'Teales?" he asked.
She stopped walking and turned to him. "Mountie has stopped talking. She won't even smile at me anymore. She won't tell me what's wrong, and Becky and Orter Ball don't know, or won't tell me either, so I thought her mother could help." Christy snorted and then started away from him again.
He spotted a broken tree trunk not too far ahead. He would get her to sit and explain. He hated to see her like this. He could almost feel her pain, and wondered why she was running away from him.
"Christy, stop!" He pulled her to a stop. She refused to look up at him. "Sit and talk to me."
He guided her to the log, and she sat, although she moved almost as far from him as she could. He took her hand and squeezed it, surprised when she ripped it away and folded her arms across her chest.
"Why are you mad at me?" he asked.
"I am not mad at you, Dr. MacNeill." Her voice was firm.
"Well, Miss Huddleston, could you explain why you are avoiding any physical contact with me?"
She looked at him, hurt in her eyes, and then looked away, off in the distance.
"Well?" he demanded.
She turned to scowl at him. Patience, MacNeill, patience.
"Miss Huddleston," he said gently, "please tell me why you will suddenly not allow me to hold your hand."
She sighed. "In Asheville, when a lady is interested in a gentleman, the other ladies step aside." She was gesturing wildly with her hands as she often did when she was either very excited or upset. "I assume this is the same here, although nothing else is."
"I am not certain what you mean. Can you explain it to me?"
Her sigh was deep and beleaguered. "Ida Grantland has made it known to me that she is very interested in being courted by you. I seem to have been slow to realize this until now, but now that I know, I can't in good conscious spend time alone with you and I am… hurt that you were spending time with her, and have led me to believe you were beginning to… be interested… in me."
Ida again! It was obviously as bad as Alice had explained to him.
He frowned. Keeping his voice low and gentle, he said, "And, what if the man has no interest in courting a particular lady even if she is interested in him? Are other ladies then allowed to try to catch the gentleman's interest?"
"It depends," she answered.
Lord, he wanted to laugh. This conversation was truly ridiculous. "On?"
"How attached the lady had become to the man and how close of friends the ladies were before the man came between them." He had to strain to hear her, she was speaking so quietly.
"Do you consider yourself close to Miss Grantland."
"No," she snapped.
"I see." This wooing business was more difficult than he had expected. "Will you do me the courtesy of looking at me as I explain? Please?"
She turned, and his heart swelled. She looked so sad, he just wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her sadness away. Instead, he began to explain.
"I have never, ever had a single, wee bit of interest in Miss Grantland."
"But—"
He held up his hand. "Let me finish, please?"
Christy nodded mutely.
"I was married, Christy. I told you that on the day you took a jump off that old mule at my favorite fishing spot." He smiled. "You wore Margaret's dress while your clothes dried, and we spent the afternoon together becoming acquainted."
That had been a wonderful day. He had been fishing, and she somehow had fallen into his lap for the afternoon while Grantland went to preach in Lufty Branch. He had been intrigued by her the first time they met at the Spencer cabin when he operated on Bob Allen, but spending the afternoon with her was a delightful experience.
"Fairlight also mentioned you had been married," she whispered, "but, she did not elaborate."
"I am glad to hear that, because then I can be the one to tell you about my marriage. Not much is secret here in the Cove. You have probably realized that already?"
"Yes." She sighed and studied the hands she now had folded in her lap. "Ruby Mae seems to know everything about everyone. I am working hard to stop her gossiping but I fear I am failing."
He shrugged. "It's just how people are here. It's sort of an extended family. So many people are related to each other in some way, and those who aren't still feel a connection to each other. Although there is feuding, there is also a strong sense of community. There are very few people I could not ask for help if I were in need."
She looked up to watch him, waiting for him to continue.
"I met Margaret in Philadelphia when I was at the end of my residency. Did you know she was Alice's daughter?"
Christy's eyes widened and her mouth formed an 'O' before she looked away from him.
"That is why Alice came here. I told you I had several impressive offers from hospitals when I finished my training. Margaret wanted to stay in the city. She thrived on the noise and excitement and entertainment, but I had to come back here. The mountains called to me. Margaret and I settled back here, and Alice soon followed, worried she would lose contact with her only child." He took a long pause. He always struggled when it came to admitting his feelings. "Margaret is the only woman I ever cared for, ever even had a romantic interest in before you, Miss Huddleston, arrived in Cutter Gap on that cold, snowy day in January. Never Ida Grantland."
She turned toward him, a hopeful, trusting look in her eyes
"Christy, I tried so hard to keep you away- at arm's length- because I don't know if you will stay here, you are seeing how hard life is, and I don't know if I can ever leave." He paused and looked away from her. "I've been fighting with God since Margaret died with my newborn son. As hard as I try, I cannot yet see him as you do- a loving Father. I know how important Christianity is to you, and I want to be… worthy of you, in every way. I do not know if I am quite there yet."
He pulled out his pipe and lit a match on the tree bark. This discussion was causing him more tension than a surgery might.
"I saw you with Ida Saturday evening. At the gazebo," Christy whispered.
"Yes, you might have." He nodded. "Do you think I am the sort of man who would lead a woman on?"
Christy shook her head.
"I was telling her that no matter her feelings, I do not feel we are suitable for each other." He sighed again. "Christy, I am not good at talking about my feelings, but I can tell you, somehow you have broken through the armor I have maintained around my heart. As a doctor, I must look at life with a cool head, and an objective mind, one that cannot be clouded by emotion. Somehow, I cannot be near you with a cool head and an objective mind. I am coming to care for you very much."
He reached out his hand and she took it before scooting closer to him.
"I thought you trusted me?" he asked.
"I do," she answered immediately.
"Then why did you not just ask me if you had any doubts in my behavior?"
"I'm not very good discussing my personal feelings either. I can talk about the children and events with great ease, but when it comes to my feelings, I find it difficult. I always have thought I was just too inexperienced to know what I might be feeling, but I don't know."
"Do you care about Grantland?"
When she nodded, it felt like a punch to his gut, but then she said, "Like a brother. He acts so much like George. He thinks anytime I try to speak of something important, it's a joke, or he teases me when I come up with some ideas to better things. I don't have any romantic notions about him."
"Was that so hard?" he asked, with a smile. "Now, do you care about me?"
She looked at him for several heartbeats before she nodded. "I was jealous of Ida. I enjoy being with you, Neil, and I was sad that I couldn't get to know you better because you had already decided Ida was the one for you."
He placed his arm around her waist and drew her next to him so their hips were touching. He tipped up her chin. "Will you allow me to court you? Are you comfortable having others know I'm interested in you?"
"Yes." She smiled, a twinkle returning to her eyes. "As long as you're comfortable letting people know I'm interested in you, too."
He laughed and the sighed. "You have made me very happy." He kissed her forehead. "This worry about Ida is not what made you throw up, though."
He felt her relax as she rested her head on his shoulder. "The O'Teales, Neil."
"You didn't eat anything there, did you?"
"No." She answered with vehemence in her tone. "Mrs. O'Teale invited me into their… shack or cabin or hut or whatever it is. I sat down to talk about Mountie. I couldn't understand why she just stopped talking all of a sudden. She was reading, Neil, she was laughing and even singing with Lulu when they were at recess and then all of a sudden, she just… stopped. Mrs. O'Teale told me that I shouldn't worry about Mountie because she's a girl and Mr. O'Teale doesn't want any attention given to his girls. What in the world is that about?"
He tightened his arm around her waist. "Some men in the mountains see girl babies as a waste of food. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but that's the truth."
"That's horrible," she whispered.
"It is."
Her sad eyes met his gaze. "You'd love daughters, too, wouldn't you?"
"You need to ask?" he squeezed her. "Of course, I would."
"That might explain why Zady is so jealous of John. Do you think Jeb favors John?"
"Maybe a bit. Not so much favors him, but spends more time with him. Men's chores are different than women's work, right? Jeb has never told you to teach Zady differently, to prevent her from learning higher level math and science has he?"
"Oh, no!"
"See? So his favoring John is more because they do men things together."
She chuckled, and it lightened his heart. "Men things."
He nudged her shoulder with his. "You know what I mean. I don't think Jeb has taught Zady to hunt, but then again, I don't know if Fairlight has taught John to cook. Not that they couldn't learn. Look at me. I cook for myself all the time, and hunt as needed."
"And fish."
"Aye," he agreed with a smile. "Although I admit fishing is an excellent way to clear my mind of worries."
She nodded. "I suppose men like Mr. O'Teale are why women will never get the vote."
"Someday you will. Then, men like Nathan O'Teale better watch out." He laughed. "Feeling better?"
"I am." She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. "Neil, the very worst part of the whole visit was the boy, though." She moved her head upward and bumped into his jaw. "Wilbur?"
"Wilmer."
"They keep him locked behind a cage! He walked out and was… naked… and covered in…"
"Waste?"
She nodded. "I thought there were special hospitals for the… feeble minded… isn't that what he would be called?"
"Yes, he is definitely feeble minded. He also has something called epilepsy, which causes seizures and convulsions." He puffed on his pipe, thinking of the asylum he had visited while in residency in Philadelphia. "People with his condition are often put in a place called an asylum. I know it seems barbaric how Swannie has him locked away, but he is likely being treated better here than he would in an institution."
"Truly? But, what of the other children?" she asked.
Neil shrugged. "They have always lived with him as he is. To them, he is just their brother."
"Why do they keep him locked behind the wires?"
"He used to get out sometimes and wander. Swannie didn't want him to fall and hurt himself outside. He can't hear, and I'm not sure how well he can see."
"Poor boy. He was muttering very loudly while I was there. I was a little nervous, given his size. Does he become violent?"
He looked at her, saw the sadness and pity in her eyes. He nodded. "He has. There was a younger girl, smaller than Mountie who died last year. They would not let me look at her, but Smith told me she was beaten. Nathan was gone, and Swannie would not hit her children so severely, so given what Smith said, I am led to believe it may have been Wilmer. I have seen him get angry, and it has gotten worse the older he has gotten. I am not certain Swannie can restrain him if she needed to."
"Like me and Lundy."
"At least Lundy is not your child." He turned her to face him. "Christy, I must be honest with you, if one of my children were born with such a condition as Wilmer, I do not think I could put them in an asylum, no matter how difficult it would be to raise a child with such needs."
Her eyes were so soft, so thoughtful, he could lose himself in their beautiful depths. She blinked and sighed.
"It would take a lot of prayers, but I would love him, if he were my child," Christy said. "Everyone is created in God's image, even I suppose those with such difficulties. Maybe I met him today to realize how much I have to help the other O'Teales? Maybe God wants me to be there to support the other children at school, when they don't have to worry about his care and behavior?"
"I am not the one to talk with about God's plans for people." He grinned wryly.
"I suppose I am just thinking out loud."
They sat quietly for a moment. He kissed her temple, so glad he had had the courage to tell her how he felt about her. She turned slightly and wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. She stayed that way, leaning into him, her rose scent pleasing his nose.
"Did Lundy come to school today?"
"No." She shook her head. "Am I cruel to say I was not sad?"
"No, you are being honest with me and yourself. You tried with Birdseye. I was so proud of how you handled that dinner at Aunt Hattie's. You held out the hand of friendship and he and Lundy rejected it. You did your part, and now must concern yourself with the children that want to learn."
"Thank you for listening to me, Neil." She looked up at him. "You are too kind to me."
"I care about you." He caressed her cheek. "I want you to know you can always come to me when you need anything."
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Sam Houston!" Neil called out as the boy tried to dodge behind a tree, unseen.
Christy tried to pull away, but Neil held her tight, only allowing her to sit up straight.
"Howdy, Doc, Miz Christy," Sam Houston called, running toward them. "I seen Charlie and figured you had to be close by. Whatcha doin'?"
"Miss Christy isn't feeling very well."
"You were just bright as a sunny day today, Miz Christy, what happened?" Sam Houston's concern made Neil smile.
"My stomach just wasn't feeling very well, Sam Houston, but I will be fine." She stood up. "Thank you for the peppermint, Dr. MacNeill. I think it's helped."
"Doc fixes everyone up right good."
"He certainly does, Sam Houston." She patted his head. "I'm going to head home. You boys don't get into too much trouble, now."
Sam Houston sat next to Neil on the log. Once Christy was out of earshot, the boy said, "I won't be telling no one you two were sparkin'"
Neil just laughed.
"So, are ya?"
"Yes, sir." He patted his little fan on the back. "She's too good of a fish to throw back, and worth more than arrowhead I could ever find."
Later, after supper, Christy was sitting under a tree, near the pond, drawing a picture of the landscape. She was trying to concentrate on something other than the horrific sight she found at the O'Teales, instead looking at the beauty around her. It seemed she was on a seesaw, somewhere between the wonderful things in Cutter Gap and the awful things. At any moment the plank could shift under her, for better or worse.
She had not expected to see Neil, but there he was, just when she needed him. He admitted that he had feelings for her, and told her something of his wife, but not enough for Christy to judge if he still loved the dead woman or if he had really moved ahead far enough to be able to love Christy. He said he cared about her, but what did that mean… exactly?
He said he knew she might not stay in the mountains, perhaps that was why he was holding back a little. She could hardly blame him because it seemed the very moment she made the decision to stay, something would happen to force her to reconsider. She did not know if her feelings for Neil would be enough to keep her here, even if she was falling in love.
"Miss Huddleston!"
Christy turned with a smile toward Miss Alice who was slowly walking toward her.
"Thee were quiet at supper." Alice sat next to her on the ground. "I came to see if all is well."
"I have had a difficult week, Miss Alice," Christy admitted. "Burl's attack and surgery, then Mountie refusing to speak again, and then today I made the mistake of visiting the O'Teale's and became very sick."
"You didn't eat anything there, did you?"
Christy chuckled. "Dr. MacNeill asked me the same question. He came upon me as I was throwing up. No." She shook her head. "I definitely did not eat there, but I was so overcome with sadness and disgust that it made me ill."
Alice took her hand. "You are encountering the worst and the best of this place, Christy. The best you see in families like the Spencers and the Allens, who appreciate your effort and want their children to succeed into the future. The worst you have seen at the O'Teale place."
"Is it the worst or is the moonshining and feuding worse?"
"I suppose it is all relative."
"Miss Alice what does it matter if I am teaching Mountie to read if she has to go home and see Wilmer, naked and filthy? What does it help Becky?" Christy shook her head. "Am I making a difference in anyone's life? I came here to make a difference, but the mountain to climb is so steep with so many difficult paths, I cannot see how to succeed."
"I have felt that myself," Alice admitted. "I have continued to put one foot in front of the other, looking ahead, and not dwelling on the negative. Have you heard the saying, 'God does not call the prepared but prepares the called'?"
"I have," Christy admitted.
"I believe our Lord is watching us, you and me and David, putting walls in our way to strengthen our will and resolve to make this place the best it can be." She pushed the hair away from Christy's forehead. "There are days I see the joy in your eyes, and it fills my spirit. Then, there are days like today where I see the despair. It is my hope that by the time the planting break occurs there will be far more days of joy than despair. No one is like you, Christy. No one can do your job, or David's or mine. You have a beautifully pure heart. You feel deeply and give yourself completely. Never stop, my child, even when the mountains seem impenetrable."
She smiled sadly. "That is easier said than done. I am so discouraged! It hurt for me to see how the O'Teales are forced to live. Some people's animals have better housing and care."
"Yes, that is true. Just as in your Asheville society, there is a pecking order here in Cutter Gap, too, and unfortunately, the O'Teales have always been on the bottom rung of the ladder. Mr. O'Teale is heavily involved in moonshining and is almost never home. When he is home, the children are terrified of him. He is almost always inebriated, to the point of having little idea of what he is doing, or saying."
"In Asheville, the children would be taken into state custody for their protection and safety."
"That is not how it works here. If they were reported, everyone would turn against you, and the mission."
"So, we turn a blind eye?"
"No." Alice gently touched Christy's face. "We must meet their needs the best we can."
"What if my best is not good enough? What if I give everything I have inside myself and it still is not enough?"
"It will be enough. It will have to be, but you must look ahead, push forward, see what needs to be done, what hills must be climbed and chip away at them, one hunk at a time."
"Was it Browning that said, 'If you desire faith, then you have faith enough'?"
"Yes, indeed." Alice squeezed her hand with a wide smile. "You never cease to amaze me. You said Dr. MacNeill was with you when you were ill. Did the two of you have an opportunity to speak?"
Christy nodded, and looked away. She had no idea what to say, what to ask about Margaret, but knew she had to bring up the topic somehow, as uncomfortable as it would be for her.
"I learned he was your son-in-law." Christy glanced back at Miss Alice to gauge her reaction. "I am so very sorry about Margaret's passing, and the child."
"It was very difficult at the time. For both of us. It has been over three years, though, and although a day does not pass when I do not think of her, the pain has eased. What else did he tell you?" she asked.
"About Margaret?" Christy asked.
"Yes."
"Nothing. Well, that is not quite right. I brought up his courting Ida and he denied it, saying the only woman he had ever cared about was your daughter."
"Until you arrived?" Alice asked with her knowing smile.
Christy nodded and looked away, scared what her mentor might say next.
"I shall tell you what I told Neil last week when he approached me. We have not always gotten along, but there is a mutual respect, I believe. Because of Margaret, he wanted me to know before he asked you about courting. I was very pleased he chose to come to me first, as I had thought he had forgotten Margaret. As I have watched the two of you developing a close friendship, I was saddened to think he could simply set her aside, and move on with his life, when she was still so alive in my own heart. But, I have prayed, you see, Christy for someone to come and love him better and more completely than Margaret had. Before she died, they were not happy, and while I wanted to blame Neil for that, I realize now, as I look back, he was doing everything he could to help her find happiness here. It was her stubbornness, her unwillingness to try to fit in and make a life here that brought them both misery. I prayed too for someone to help me overcome my sadness and help fill the hole she left in my heart." Miss Alice paused and softly touched Christy's cheek again in a very kind, motherly gesture. "I do believe God sent thee for both Neil and I to find joy again. You have a light within you that brightens the darkest of days, Christy Huddleston. Do not allow the ugliness of the world to dim your glow."
Miss Alice stood up with more grace than Christy would expect of a woman of nearly fifty.
"Miss Alice, you don't mind…"
"That you and Neil become close?" She looked away and then back down at Christy still seated on the ground. "I am pleased thee care for him. I am not blind. If I had misgivings, I would have told thee. I would caution becoming too attached to him before you know if you can truly commit your life to Cutter Gap."
"I told him that I still was unsure. Most days I know this is where I am meant to be, but days like the past few make me question it."
"That would be true anywhere, child. Did thee not question thy schooling? Were there not days thee asked yourself why you were seated in a classroom when the sun was shining and the wind was blowing the scent of honeysuckle in the air?"
"You know me very well, Miss Alice," Christy laughed.
"You said thee came here to make a difference. Thee believed there was more to thy life than establishing a home with a man and giving him children. Christy Huddleston, do thee not see you may have been called here to do both; make a difference in the lives of the less fortunate, and find a loving home in these mountains? Think on that. However, I must caution. Do not stay out too long. It may have felt like late spring today, but once the sun sinks low, you will become chilled. Oh! I would suggest, too, that you visit Opal tomorrow and see the new baby girl. There is nothing so wonderful as holding a newly born child to lift one's spirits!"
