CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MY GRAND PLANS for conquering the Doctor's elusive heart were put in place that very day and continued gradually unfolding for the remainder of the week. I was more determined than the most steadfast suitor, bolder than the most outrageous flirt, and more nervous than I'd ever been in my life.

I sought out his company on my own, where I had let him come to me in the past; I took pains to include him in every conversation, watched him shamelessly when we were separated, and teased him just as much as he teased me. It was completely against the code of behavior followed by young ladies of good breeding, and for several days the effort seemed forced and too aggressive – I was surprised that he didn't ask me if I was ill.

In time, however, it became more natural, and I was able to cast away my scruples and enjoy the time I solicited from him. There was something very freeing in making my preference known. Why should he not know that I liked him, that I wanted him near me?

Still, the last thing I desired to do was frighten him away. He wasn't the sort to startle easily, but such a revolution in my attitude would surely cause some questions. Still, if he was puzzled by my sudden show of interest, he didn't mention it. I was sure our neighbors had taken notice – I saw Opal grinning at me one day after church as I was wheedling the Doctor into joining me for lunch. My predilection for his company was undoubtedly the gossip subject of choice – it made me uncomfortable, but if it took everyone in the mountains knowing about my feelings to make Dr. MacNeill understand that I cared for him, then I could stand a little harmless teasing.

Or maybe not so harmless. Not a day passed when one of my students didn't innocently ask where Doc was or how he was doing. They knew, the little imps – they just liked seeing me struggle for an answer without giving myself away.

Miss Alice, having said her piece, refrained from commenting on my behavior, accepting my distraction without comment so long as it didn't interfere with my teaching duties. I tried as hard as I could to keep my thoughts focused on the children during the day; my personal life should have no effect on my teaching.

And so time passed as I waited for some sign from the Doctor. It seemed absurdly arrogant to expect a proposal or a declaration of love, neither of which I was yet ready to accept, but I was hoping that we could at last discuss our desire for some sort of permanent commitment. Or, if he had decided he no longer wanted to pursue a courtship, I would drop my attempts at courting him. I prayed that wouldn't be the outcome, but even that would be a definitive ending. I wanted some kind of closure, a 'yes' or a 'no.' I was tired of dangling between two possibilities, tired of not knowing what he really wanted from me. By the end of the next month, I hoped to have my answers.

Of course, I hadn't taken into account Dr. MacNeill's own growing impatience. It took all of a week for matters to come to a head.

"MIZ CHRISTY!"

I looked up from Mountie's arithmetic sheet and groaned. "Creed! Give Sam Houston his slate – yes, I mean right now! – and tell him you're sorry. Creed, I'm serious. Now."

Reluctantly my angel-faced rapscallion handed the slate back to his seat-mate, shooting me a dirty look for spoiling his fun.

"Thank you. Please finish your work, Creed." I bent back over Mountie's paper and Zady Spencer let out a shriek.

"Miz Christy, John pulled my hair!"

I blew out an exasperated breath, grateful that it was almost three o'clock. The entire day had been like this, loud and frustrating and chaotic. Little Burl had accidentally spilled half of an inkpot on the hem of my skirt, I had been forced to break up a fistfight during dinner spell, and the entire class had seemed disinclined to concentrate on what I was teaching. Finally I had given up, assigning a sheet of arithmetic problems, but the majority of my students were chattering and fidgeting instead of working.

I dismissed the class ten minutes early, my head pounding with the beginning of what felt like a migraine. After cleaning up, I sat down at my desk and laid my head on the cool wood. On days like this, it was hard to remember why I loved teaching so much.

"Christy?"

Hurried, heavy footsteps crossed the floorboards, and I felt a rough hand press against my hair. "What is it? Do you feel sick? Did you hurt yourself?"

I raised my head, wincing a little. "Just a headache, Doctor. I'm sorry if I worried you."

Dr. MacNeill's eyes narrowed. "Put your head down," he ordered, "while I get some aspirin powder for you."

I obeyed, closing my eyes against the painful glare of the afternoon sunshine. He was gone for a scant minute or two, returning with a full glass of murky water. "Drink this," he commanded, pressing it carefully into my hand. Again I did as I was told, grimacing at the bitterness of the aspirin.

Dr. MacNeill pulled up a chair and sat with me until the medicine began to take effect. The pulsing discomfort slowly ebbed away, and at length I was able to sit straight in my seat. "Thank you," I said fervently. "I'm so grateful that you were here."

He acknowledged my thanks with a curt nod. "You've been working too hard, haven't you?"

"Not so much." Looking at him, I realized he was nattily dressed in a tweed hat, spotless vest, and leather coat. "Going on a call?"

"No – I'm due to travel to Knoxville. My supply is low, and I like to select the medicine myself."

"Will you be gone long?"

"About a week – maybe ten days. I have friends in the area I've been neglecting lately."

My heart dropped into the bottom of my pointy-toed, button-top boots. "A week?"

"I only go every six months or so." He shrugged. "I've already asked Alice if she would consider handling any emergencies that come up, and she agreed to it. Don't fret."

"I'll try not to." He was watching me closely, and I turned toward the window, heat rising in my cheeks. "There's still a good deal of snow on the ground. Do you think you'll be safe traveling all that way by yourself?"

He grinned. "I think I'll manage."

"You will be careful, though?"

"Of course."

"Good."

We sat in silence. A week – gone for a week! I hadn't been separated from him for such a length of time since my return from Asheville. I wondered briefly whether it was healthy to feel such dependence on someone's company, but he interrupted my thoughts by reaching across the desk to take my hand.

I startled at the contact, staring down at the big, blunt-fingered hand atop mine. The innocent touch stole my breath away, and I sat there numbly, gazing at our entwined fingers like a simpleton.

"Christy." I looked up unwillingly, and the expression on his broad and honest face was one of mingled anxiety and a strange, stern tenderness. "I think we need to talk."

"Do we?" I choked out.

"Yes. I have to know before I leave. Perhaps it's selfish of me, and I hope you will forgive me for it later...but I have to know."

"Know what?" I parroted, hearing the tremor in my voice.

He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut, letting go of my hand. My palm tingled, and I had the strongest urge to snatch his hand back, but the seriousness etched on his face brought me back to the present.

"I'm not an eloquent person, Christy." He ran his hand through his hair. "I must have planned a dozen ways to say this, but...well, may I be blunt?"

As if he was ever anything but. "Yes."

"We've never had a very easy time understanding each other; I've been wondering what in the world I would do about you since the day you came here. You're...different."

I couldn't tell whether that was a good thing or not.

"I've been living alone for several years," he continued, after a small hesitation, "and I hadn't realized...Have you ever felt lonely, even when you're in a crowd?"

Although he could have been more clear, I could relate to the feeling.

"Well, I suppose I hadn't ever noticed how alone I was. Oh, I had friends, and plenty of neighbors to talk to, but – " He broke off with a sigh. "I'm not making any sense at all, am I?"

"I came to Cutter Gap and made you feel lonely," I repeated cautiously, like a student reciting a lesson.

His lips quirked into a reluctant smile. "No, you didn't – you just made me aware of what I was missing."

"Oh."

"You've been a good friend to me," he said abruptly, shifting in his chair. "You gave me a fresh perspective on my life and my work here in Cutter Gap. You brought me back to faith. I can't tell you what that means to me."

"I value your friendship too, Doctor."

"That's just it. Christy, I don't want that – That is, I can't pretend that's all I want anymore...I..." He sighed again. "You know, the entire time you were at the cabin, I kept thinking how nice it was to have someone else with me. The house has been empty for a pretty long time, Christy – and it made me understand how...how much I've missed having someone close by.

"This may sound completely foolish, but I've been tiptoeing around this issue ever since Grantland left, and before that I wasn't sure what you would think of it...but as it is, I'm tired of waiting and planning and being careful. I have to ask or I'll never forgive myself for another lost opportunity. Christy, would you let me court you?"

It took a moment for that all-encompassing question to penetrate my mind.

"I'm not trying to push you," he said, misinterpreting my silence. "It doesn't mean you're committed to anything further. I'd...I'd just like a chance."

The uncertainty in his voice thawed the shock from me, and I threw myself across the desk to wrap my arms around his neck. "Of course I want you to court me!" I cried, hardly able to speak around the lump in my throat. "I've been waiting so long for you to ask!"

Dr. MacNeill let out a bark of astonished laughter and squeezed me gently to him before carefully peeling me away. "That can't be comfortable," he said, leading me around the desk so I could perch next to him on the bench. We sat there, side-by-side, for what could have been hours or maybe only a few minutes. Time had ceased to exist for me in those first ecstatic moments. We talked and prayed together, and I cried until my eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Anyone observing the two of us would have thought us mad, but my joy and the relief of being able to express what I felt after a year and a half of suspense were immeasurable.

I didn't want him to leave, but he truly did have to make the appointment in Knoxville, and he promised me tenderly that he would hurry back as soon as he could. It was too ironic that our first moments of happiness would be interrupted by a long separation, but perhaps it was best this way. The sweetness of the day was also mingled with the awkwardness of a situation that had changed drastically and suddenly, and perhaps we both needed a little bit of time apart to grapple with the change in our lives.

I stood on the steps of the schoolhouse and waved as he mounted Charlie. This man – this amazing, wonderful man – loved me, wanted me! Me! He set Charlie at a brisk pace down the road, and I waved, calling after him to be careful. He turned in the saddle and waved back, smiling so peacefully that I felt my worries melt away. Suddenly a week didn't seem so long after all.

A/N: Yeah! It's about time, huh? Up next: the Cove reacts to the news that Doc's sparkin' Teacher. Now the fun really starts. I hope this chapter wasn't too sentimental -- Neil's a hillbilly man, after all, and isn't into all that touchy-feely stuff. :D

Thanks for your kind comments!