CHAPTER NINE

MY DEPARTURE COINCIDED with the first big snow of the season. The mountains were draped in gossamer white, rivers had frozen into ribbons of glass, and many a cabin now looked like the frosted gingerbread houses Grandmother Rudd used to make. Winter had finally arrived in the Cove, and most people wisely chose not to venture from their homes.

The snowstorm, however, hadn't affected El Pano or Lyleton nearly as much, so the trains were still running to Asheville, and I was determined to leave according to my original plans. David was to drive me to the El Pano station in Jeb's wagon – Miss Alice had insisted that I not attempt the long ride on horseback – and from there I would take the 10:15 train to Asheville on Monday. With any luck, there would be no delays and I would be home in time for afternoon tea.

As it turned out, when I called the station to reserve my ticket, I was informed that the 10:15 was booked to the very last seat – holiday travelers were in a scramble to leave before the heavier snows trapped them in El Pano. One passenger, however, had canceled his ticket reservation for the 11:50 train on Sunday, and I leapt at the chance. I called my father to tell him about the change, and only after I had hung up did I realize that I had no way to get to the station. David would be preaching, and Miss Alice was leaving that morning for Cataleechie; I could hardly ask Jeb to take the time out from his work to drive me down when he had already been kind enough to loan us his wagon.

Miss Alice, of course, had a solution. Dr. MacNeill was willing to take me to El Pano, provided that no medical emergencies called him away. David's thinly-veiled disapproval of the plan spurred me into agreement, despite the fact that I was a little nervous about spending several hours alone with the Doctor.

As my last week in Cutter Gap drew to a close, I visited as many of the families as I could, since I wanted to see my schoolchildren once more before I left. The general consensus of the children was that I ought to stay for Christmas – after all, the mission was going to hold a play-party on Christmas Eve, and it wouldn't do to miss that. As gently as I could, I reminded them that my plans were fixed, and that I would be back just after the break.

I spent an extra afternoon with the Spencers, knowing that Fairlight's absence would be particularly apparent during the holidays. Jeb still looked dispirited, but I thought that he seemed a little less worn and tired, even managing a smile or two; and the younger children piled onto my lap, full of chatter and mischief. When I finally took my leave, Zady followed me to the door and hugged me especially tight. "Yer a-comin' back, Teacher?" she whispered. I promised her that I was, and that I would come to see her the very day I returned. I bid the other children and Jeb goodbye, and as I crossed the yard, I glanced over my shoulder to see Zady's sweet, sad face at the window, watching me go.

When I wasn't out visiting, the rest of my time was occupied in cleaning out the schoolhouse and carefully packing up all the books and maps to keep them safe during the break. I was grateful that I felt well enough to do the work, for it certainly would have never been done otherwise – everyone else at the mission was just as busy.

On Sunday morning, I hurriedly threw my own belongings together. Mother would have fits to see all my nice clothes wrinkled and rumpled so carelessly in the trunks, but I hoped I could have them unpacked and hung in my closet before she noticed.

Miss Ida called me down for breakfast just as I snapped my suitcase shut. She had made buckwheat cakes, eggs, and bacon, the usual Sunday fare, and I took my place at the table quickly, stomach growling. David was already seated, and Miss Alice, wearing her grey riding habit, stopped briefly in the house to say goodbye.

"Have a lovely Christmas, my dear," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "Are you all ready for your trip?"

"Everything's packed – finally." I laughed at myself. "Trust me to leave it until the last possible minute."

She smiled. "Convey my best wishes to your family, and be sure to call so we know you arrived in safety, Miss Huddleston. God keep thee." Going out to mount Goldie, who was tethered just outside, she set off down the road to Cataleechie, waving one gloved hand back at us as she disappeared around the bend.

Miss Ida brought the platters to the table and we helped ourselves. For once, I ate more than David, who merely picked at his plate, glancing up every so often to watch me. It made me nervous, and I wished there was some way I could ask him what was wrong without causing a scene.

No one said much throughout breakfast, and as soon as I had finished, I excused myself. I was brimming with excitement for my journey home, but there was something heavy and anxious that pressed down on me – it was ridiculous, but I found myself wandering across the field to the schoolhouse. The hour was growing late, and Dr. MacNeill would undoubtedly be here at any moment, but I felt a strong need to see the school one last time before I left.

The schoolhouse was unnaturally still and quiet, perfectly clean and neatly arranged for the next semester. I let my eyes drift over the familiar room, crammed full with benches and desks and crates; it was the one place that I had been allowed to view as my own, and yet there was something so very melancholy about all those empty seats. A little shiver coursed through me, and I hurried back to the house before I was missed.

Dr. MacNeill arrived precisely at seven o'clock. I was waiting on the porch when I heard the lumbering rattle of Jeb's old wagon, and as soon as the driver came into view, I picked up my portmanteau. "Good morning, Doctor," I called. It was dreadfully chilly, and I tightened my scarf as I bounded down the steps to meet him.

"Good morning, Christy." He looked quizzically at my little suitcase. "Is that all you're bringing?"

"Heavens no," I said, laughing. "David is bringing down my trunks."

"Ah, I was wondering. Women never travel lightly." His words were humorous, but there was a somber cast to his smile.

"Some do." I glanced back over at the front door, suddenly uncomfortable. "David should be here any minute now."

Sure enough, David soon appeared, struggling with the two unwieldy black trunks. He blew out a shaky breath and sagged briefly against the doorjamb, forehead glistening with sweat. "Whew! What did you pack in there, Christy? I didn't think a few dresses could weigh so much."

"Here, let me help you with those, Grantland." Dr. MacNeill jumped down from the seat-board and strode over to the steps; David looked as though he might protest, but common sense triumphed over pride, and together the two men hoisted my trunks onto the wagon bed.

"Thanks, Doctor." David swiped his sleeve along his brow and turned to me. "Have a nice Christmas, Christy. Write if you find the time, and we'll count the days until you come back."

I smiled. For a moment, at least, this was the old David again. I was glad that we wouldn't have to part on bad terms with each other. "Merry Christmas, David. I hope you and Miss Alice will have that first-class jollification you planned for."

"We'll try, anyway." He shrugged, thrusting his hands in his pockets, and there was small, ungainly pause before he finally wished us both a good journey and went off to his bunkhouse to change for the Sunday service. I watched him go with an inner sigh, almost wishing that things could have turned out differently. It certainly would have been less complicated.

"Ready, Christy?" The Doctor was already working to unwrap the reins from the porch railing. "We've got quite a way to go, and we don't want to be snowed in halfway to El Pano."

I nodded, and he helped me up onto the board, where he had thoughtfully padded the hard wooden plank with a blue cushion. There was also a thick quilt for me to wrap up in, and I did so gratefully, for the wind was bitingly cold. Seeing that I was settled, he hopped onto the bench himself – I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he swung up – and after taking the reins in hand, he set the horses off at a clipping pace.

"I can't wait to see Mother and Daddy and George," I said, to fill the silence. "It feels like such a long time since I was home."

"A few months at least," he replied absently, his eyes scanning the path ahead.

A few months that seemed like an eternity; I would have to treasure every minute of my time in Asheville, for it would pass by quickly.

My parents had been delighted to hear my holiday plans, but I hadn't yet told them about my intention of returning to Cutter Gap in January; I didn't particularly want to spoil Christmas with the conflict that was bound to follow that announcement. I knew that I would succeed in convincing them eventually, but what was the use in riling everyone up at such a time?

These worries occupied me for the first mile or so, since there was nothing to distract me from them. Dr. MacNeill was unresponsive and preoccupied, thwarting my attempts at conversation with replies that were – although not exactly uncivil – certainly short. I wondered what was bothering him; we had been on perfectly friendly terms all week. Why, he had even walked with me along the riverbank all afternoon on Friday. Perhaps something had gone wrong with one of his patients; he always took those losses so much to heart.

"Is everything okay, Doctor?" I decided to be blunt.

He turned his head to look at me blankly. "Hmm?" The brisk wind ruffled his hair and threw sunshine onto it, making it glint copper and gold.

"Has everything been going well for you? Medically, I mean." He continued to look confused. I lowered my voice. "No one's...uh...passed on?"

His eyes widened ever so slightly. "Not lately. Why?"

"No reason. Just curious." I ducked my head and fiddled with the buttons on my coat, casting around for something to say. "Will you go to the mission's Christmas party?"

"Maybe. To be honest, Christy, it's not a holiday I've celebrated for awhile," he said. "I guess I never saw a reason to make a big fuss over it. My parents made Christmas as good as they possibly could for me when I was young, but once I was in college there was no one to celebrate it with, and when there was..." He cleared his throat. "My wife didn't care for Christmas. It reminded her of...well, of things she didn't want to think about, so we didn't usually do much – just exchanged a few presents and maybe attended a singing on Christmas Eve."

I couldn't imagine not celebrating Christmas. In the city, it was by far the biggest event all year – every building in Asheville was decked with wreaths and greenery; carolers patrolled the streets, and vendors on every corner sold hot chocolate and paper pokes filled with roasted chestnuts. The holiday spirit was pervasive and all-consuming in the city, and I had always loved that warm and cheerful feeling.

The Huddleston household leapt into the festivities wholeheartedly. My mother and I went on day-long shopping excursions, sometimes going as far as Wilmington to find the perfect gifts, and my father and brother and I took frequent trips to the park to skate on the pond. We built snowmen in the yard and strung popcorn, and the house was always filled with the rich spicy smells of the gingerbread cookies and plum puddings that Cook made specially every year. And of course there was the joy of rising early on Christmas morning to exchange presents – Mother and Daddy spoiled us dreadfully.

In Cutter Gap, gift-giving was a simple affair, as the few presents exchanged were generally handmade; but I had learned that any small trinket was enough to bring pleasure to these children and their parents. The highlanders' complete lack of greed was an astounding thing in itself.

"I imagine that Christmas is quite different in Asheville," Dr. MacNeill said abruptly.

I turned to look at him, the color rushing into my cheeks. How did this man always know what I was thinking? "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"What is what supposed to mean?"

"Are you angry at me for leaving the Cove?" At last I thought I might have hit upon the reason for his coolness. "You think I should have stayed, that I'm pampered and shallow to want to go home for Christmas? I would be perfectly content to celebrate Christmas in a more... modest...style, Doctor, but I want to see my family. Sure, sometimes I miss the nice things I left behind in Asheville, but that doesn't mean that I'm deserting the children just because I..."

"Whoa, there," he interrupted, lifting up one hand. "You're putting words in my mouth, Christy. Of course I don't object to you going home. Your parents want to see you, and you'll probably recuperate better in the city."

I sank down into my seat. "Oh."

"I don't blame you," he said, more quietly. "You must be homesick." Shaking his head, he tried to grin at me. "I'll never know where you get these crazy notions, Christy; your thought processes never cease to..."

A blur of movement in the bushes by the road suddenly caught my eye. "Doctor," I cried, "stop the wagon!"

He yanked on the reins, but before he could ask me why we had stopped, I leapt down from the bench and ran across the road. I heard him calling after me, but I hurried into the trees and nearly bumped right into Bird's-Eye Taylor, who looked startled by my unexpected appearance.

"Mr. Taylor," I said breathlessly, before he could hasten away, "I didn't have an opportunity to thank you properly before."

His light blue eyes narrowed suspiciously on my face. "What fer?"

"For saving my life. Miss Alice said you found me near the river and brought me back home. I can't begin to thank you. It was a very kind thing to do."

He tugged uncomfortably on the brim of his dirty felt hat. "Weren't nothin' much, ma'am. Couldn't rightly leave ya thar with all them wild critters about."

I shivered at that. "Anyway, I appreciate it. I'm obliged to you."

"I reckon you ain't. I was beholden. I never forgot what you done fer my boy."

I didn't quite know where to look. "Miss Alice and Miss Ida did most of the work. I'm afraid I'm not a very adept nurse," I said lightly.

Bird's-Eye's alert gaze suddenly centered on a spot over my left shoulder, and I turned to see the Doctor lounging by the roadside just out of earshot, nonchalant but watchful.

"Dr. MacNeill has been gracious enough to escort me to El Pano, Mr. Taylor," I explained, hoping to allay the mountain man's uneasiness. "I'll be going back to Asheville for a few weeks, before the next school term."

His eyes flickered once more over to the waiting Doctor and then moved to survey me almost curiously. "Waal, all the best then, Miz Christy." Tipping his hat, he melted back into the trees, the underbrush hardly rustling in his wake.

I stood there for a moment, wondering if the old moonshiner thought I was a complete loon. Presently I heard the distinctive tread of the Doctor's boots on the path behind me. "Christy?"

Sighing, I turned around. "Sorry for running off like that – I felt like I had to let him know that I appreciated his help, but I hadn't been able to find him at all this week."

"He's not exactly a social butterfly," Dr. MacNeill said dryly.

We made our way quickly back to the wagon, for the wind had picked up and the heavy white snow clouds were starting to gather above us. The remainder of the journey passed by fairly rapidly; we talked a little but were mostly silent. It wasn't an uncomfortable sort of stillness; sometimes words just seemed unnecessary. Any sound but the whisper of snow and the muffled creak of the wagon wheels seemed almost disruptive.

The Doctor's pocket watch read half-past eleven when we arrived at El Pano; the train was already in the station, ready to be boarded. While Dr. MacNeill saw to the wagon and my luggage, I collected my ticket and stepped into the general store to wait for him. The pot-bellied stove in the corner threw off plenty of heat, and I sat down, letting the blaze melt the stiffness from my arms and legs.

Dr. MacNeill came in a minute or two later and joined me. "The conductor made his first call, Christy. You'd better be off."

A crowd had gathered at the stairs to board. I took my place at the back of the line, and the Doctor stood with me. A portly bearded man was in front of us, talking loudly to his companion. "They say there's another few inches on the way tonight, Amos – supposed to be chock full of snow by the end of the week."

I glanced up at the ominous clouds overhead; Dr. MacNeill noticed the direction of my gaze and commented, "It does look like we have a bit more winter on our hands. It's a good thing you didn't wait until Monday to leave; the trains probably will be snowed in tomorrow."

"I hope you won't try to go back to the Cove if the weather gets any worse," I said, as a frightful image of the Doctor's lifeless body lying frozen in the snow flashed into my head. "You will stay here, won't you?"

"I'll get a room at Mrs. Tatum's," he assured me.

The line moved forward steadily, until it was almost my turn. I looked over at the Doctor, feeling a bit shy. "Thanks for the escort, Dr. MacNeill."

His expression became very grave. "You're welcome."

"I...I suppose I'll see you in January, then."

"Maybe."

I looked up at him, my heartbeat quickening. "Maybe?"

He shrugged. "If you're coming back so soon."

I stared at him. "Of course I'm coming back in January; it'll be the new semester. It's not like I'm heading off to Africa or China, Doctor – only Asheville. I'll be here again before you know it."

He gazed at me for a long moment. "Will you?"

"What?"

The train whistle shrilled, and he put a hand to my back to gently propel me toward the steps. "Goodbye, Miss Huddleston."

I climbed numbly up into the train car and found an unoccupied seat near the back, across from an elderly gentleman reading a newspaper. Sinking down onto the plush booth, I set my suitcase next to me and peered out the ice-encrusted window. Dr. MacNeill was standing by the lamppost, staying clear of the bustle; his arms were crossed over his chest, and the brown boots were covered shin-deep in snow. His face was turned to the side, cheeks stung pink with the bitter wind.

He looked so desolate. I pressed my face up against the glass, wishing I could do something to make him feel better. He must be lonely, especially at this time of the year, during a holiday that centered around family – I would miss him too, very much. On a sudden impulse, I reached up and turned the window latch, carefully easing up the dusty pane.

Cold air rushed in and bit at my cheeks and nose, but I leaned forward and called out, "Dr. MacNeill! Dr. MacNeill – Neil!"

I saw him twist around, his gaze turning up to where I sat, my head stuck through the open window. The black smoke from the engine began to roil overhead as the train prepared to pull away from the station, and I cupped my hands over my mouth to be heard over the shriek of the whistle. "Merry Christmas, Neil!" I quickly stripped off one of my mittens and blew him a kiss.

Even from the across the tracks I could see his surprise and then the smile that spread slowly across his face. The train started forward with a jerk and a squeal, and we were speeding away out of the station, but I kept waving until his solitary figure disappeared from sight.

A/N: Boy, it's nice to be back online! Thanks to everyone for being so patient with me.

So anyway, Christy's bound for Asheville and various family-related incidents -- and sorry, folks, but the next few chapters will be Neil-free. :( Sad, I know. You can be sure, however, that he'll figure into Christy's thoughts and conversations enough to keep us from going into Doc Withdrawal. ; )