CHAPTER SEVEN

MY HEAD ACHED. Hands were gliding over my hair, pressing something cold and damp against my forehead. I stirred and moaned, blinking as my room slowly came into focus. I was in bed, and a candle flickered over on my side table, throwing shadows against the walls. It was dark.

"Christy?"

Miss Alice's soft voice jerked me back into consciousness. I blinked again and turned my head to find the Quaker woman sitting next to me on the mattress. She smiled and put out a hand to remove the cold compress from my forehead. "Are you feeling better?"

"I think so. My head hurts." I tried to lift myself up, but it made the pounding behind my eyes quicken. "What happened?"

"You were allowed to walk to the Spencers' cabin on the condition that you would be careful and not exert yourself," Miss Alice said, with a hint of sternness. "It appears that you ignored that advice, for you fainted on your way back. Fortunately, Mr. Taylor happened upon you and carried you home."

"I fainted? Bird's-Eye carried me here?" I struggled to absorb everything.

"So it would seem. He is downstairs with David now." She pressed the compress against my temples. "Neil says that you won't suffer any lasting damage from this accident, but you were very reckless to continue your walk if you were feeling unwell, Miss Huddleston."

Miss Alice's reprimands were all the more painful for their infrequency. I felt myself flush in shame and embarrassment under her gentle scrutiny. "I...I didn't think I would faint. I was feeling fine at first. I thought I could make it."

She subjected me to a few more minutes of fidgeting silence before replying, "I trust you will never repeat your actions of this afternoon."

"I won't," I said fervently. "I'll be more careful next time."

She sighed and patted my hand. "I know."

Before she could say another word, the door flew open and the Doctor stepped inside. He took in the scene, and I thought that something of relief was in his face as he saw that I was awake – but that momentary tenderness quickly disappeared.

Miss Alice rose from the bed. "Neil, Christy is none the worse for her ordeal." Her voice was purposefully calm. "I think she will only have a headache for a few more hours."

He said nothing, nodding curtly as he crossed the room to his bag, which was sitting on my desk. Miss Alice spared me a sympathetic glance and then left, shutting the door softly behind her.

I watched Dr. MacNeill sort through his medicines, his back turned deliberately to me. I thought it was a rather immature way to express his displeasure – if he believed I was careless, he should tell me so to my face.

"Doctor?" I straightened my shoulders, determined to explain myself. "I really am okay. I just walked a little too far..."

He whirled around, a surprisingly graceful movement for such a large man, and I realized that he hadn't been ignoring me – he had been trying to rein in his temper...and apparently, he had failed.

"What the devil did you think you were doing?" he bit out, his eyes very cold. "I give you permission to stretch your legs a bit, and what do you do? You go traipsing off halfway across the Cove! You've had typhoid, Miss Huddleston, and you aren't completely recovered yet. I told you not to put too much stress on yourself – I told you not to overdo it. But no, you didn't listen and you put yourself at risk because of it!"

I tried to speak up, but he interrupted me, pacing back and forth, windmilling his arms in agitation. "You better than anyone should understand what happens when people ignore my instructions. You could have hit your head, or you might have lost consciousness while you were crossing the river. What would have happened then? You might have drowned!"

"But..."

His big fist slammed down on the windowsill, rattling the pane. "You've already faced death once this month, Miss Huddleston! There's no need to taunt it again!"

I sat mutely as the tirade continued. The words melted together and buzzed in my ears, until I was only aware of a few disjointed words and phrases. Reckless...foolhardy...refuse to listen to reason...you could have been lying there for days before someone found you...scatter-brained thing to do...ought to lock you in your room...worried us all senseless...

I finally became aware that the onslaught of words had stopped and the room was silent but for the sound of his harsh breathing. I kept my gaze trained on the handful of quilt I was clutching – my eyes stung, my breath was hitching...I bit my lip in a desperate attempt to delay the inevitable.

The Doctor circled around the bed to face me. "Well? What do you have to say to defend yourself, Miss Huddleston?"

The lash of sarcasm in his voice was too much for me. I looked up into his hard, angry face and did the only thing I could.

I cried.

He skittered backwards at the first barrage of tears, and his expression of shock might have been funny if I hadn't been occupied completely by the muffled sobs that shook me from head to toe. I couldn't seem to slow the tears, and I was so humiliated that I no longer cared whether I stopped at all. I buried my face against my pillow and turned away, curling my knees up to my chest and hugging them close. Let him think me childish too, to add to all my other faults!

I could hear him shuffling nervously back and forth behind me; once or twice his hand came down as though to touch my shoulder, but he quickly drew it back each time before any contact was made. I took some perverse pleasure in having disconcerted him, but it wasn't much of a comfort, for I heard his footsteps retreating and the door opening and then snapping shut.

After a few minutes more I sat up and used my shirtwaist to wipe my face, completely mortified by my behavior. This wasn't how I reacted to a challenge! Dr. MacNeill always seemed to bring out the worst in me – he made me feel like such a child sometimes.

I sniffled and burrowed miserably back into the pillow. I had been stupid to think that he was interested in me. Love was a very general word: his prayer had been a desperate call to God to save my life – maybe he had only been caught up in the emotion of the moment. Oh, I didn't doubt that his change of heart toward God was genuine, but maybe I had misunderstood his intentions toward me. Maybe he didn't love me that way after all. And if he did, how could he possibly love me now?

I closed my eyes, wishing I could undo the events of the day. Why should Dr. MacNeill want me? He didn't need me to lead him back to his faith anymore; he didn't need me to pray with him or encourage him: he had Miss Alice for that now. Obviously he didn't view me as a capable person, let alone as a grown woman.

Besides, I couldn't offer him much myself. I could keep house, but not particularly well. My cooking left a lot to be desired, and I still hadn't completely accustomed myself to all the tasks that mountain women were expected to do. I couldn't help him with his medical work: despite my participation in Little Burl's surgery, I didn't have the stomach for nursing. I wasn't even pretty anymore. He certainly wouldn't be getting a prize for a wife if he did marry me -- he would be stuck with a dab of a girl who looked like a plucked chicken.

And why was I thinking of marriage anyway? He certainly hadn't mentioned anything about it! In fact, he hadn't said a single word about courtship, about his feelings, about anything. I was running wild with his only declaration, made under desperate circumstances. I hardly knew my own feelings.

Everything had unraveled so quickly. Only a few days ago we had been talking about ourselves so openly, and I had begun to have real hopes that things were changing for the better in both our lives. Now we were at odds yet again. "Oh, Lord, please help me understand," I murmured.

The door opened slowly, and fearing that it was David, I ran my sleeve across my eyes in a futile attempt to hide the evidence of my unhappiness. It wasn't David, however; Dr. MacNeill was peering around the door, a cup gripped tightly in one hand. We looked at each other for a long moment, and – apparently deciding that it was safe to enter – he ventured inside and offered me the cup.

I took it automatically. It was only cold water, but I was too choked up to drink any. Handing it back to him, I turned my face self-consciously toward the open window.

There was a moment's hesitation, and then I felt the mattress dip under his weight as he sat down next to me. I tried to ignore his closeness, but one hand came down to rest gently on mine. Looking down at it involuntarily, I remembered grasping that same hand on the night he called me back from heaven; a tear escaped and trailed down my cheek.

Without warning, he reached up to touch my face, his thumb carefully smoothing away the tear. I sniffled and looked over at him, but he didn't move his hand – he kept stroking my cheek in that slow, soothing motion as he studied me.

"I owe you an apology, Miss Huddleston," he finally said. "I never should have spoken to you like that. I let my temper get the better of me, and I beg your pardon for it."

There was real anxiety in his eyes, and my resentment and uncertainty melted away as though they had never been at all. He did care. Sudden affection for him welled up in me, and I managed a watery smile in his direction.

He returned the gesture gratefully and chuckled; the sound rumbled low in his chest, and suddenly I realized how very close we were to each other. His knee was pressed up against my back, supporting me, and my other hand was still gripping his shoulder. His scent – soap, clean linen, the faint smokiness of pipe tobacco, and a unique male spice reminiscent of the mountains – surrounded me, intoxicated me.

The compromising nature of our position seemed to occur to him almost at the same time, for he had begun to draw away when a floorboard creaked and I looked up to see David standing silently in the doorway.

A/N: Yeah, sorry, a bit cheesy there. Also, these two cliffies in a row weren't intentional. My muse made me do it.

As for David: he's a sneaky, sneaky fella! In the series, it seemed like every time Christy turned around he was hiding behind a building or watching from a darkened doorway. Kinda creepy. :O

Thanks for your comments -- and sorry, Li'l Albatross: Neil didn't get to be the hero this time. He will eventually though, don't worry. ; ) I'll try to update soon.