CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THE SEASONS CHANGE very slowly in Cutter Gap, Tennessee, but at long last spring came and drove all the lingering signs of winter away.

It was mid-May, warm and sunny, and a great deal of alterations came with the turning of the month – the greatest of these changes was that I now shared the mission house with the Reverend Moses Iverson and his wife.

The new preacher was a friend of Dr. Ferrand's, and had volunteered to fill David's vacant position in the Cove. He had arrived early in the year, just after the worst of the February snowstorms, and he and Mrs. Iverson had settled quickly in with us.

Reverend Iverson was a mild-mannered gentleman in his early forties, an opposite of his predecessor in almost every way, and not the sort of man one would expect to end up in the mountains. Short and stocky, he had blunt features and a neatly trimmed black mustache, peppered with grey. His disposition was about as unassuming as his appearance.

It had taken some time for the mountain people to welcome the unseasoned "preacher-man" from Cincinnati; the children in particular had difficulty accepting him over their beloved David -- Reverend Iverson was a man more suited to quiet conversation than physical labor, and he hadn't half the wind-power in the pulpit.

Still, Uncle Bogg and some of the other men seemed grateful that the preacher wasn't a hothead. (David, for all his mellowness, had possessed quite a temper.) I suspected the moonshine fiasco was still fresh in their minds. The reverend surely wouldn't pursue the issue at once, since he seemed more apt to let matters lie as they were.

The same could not be said for his wife: Mrs. Iverson – or Anne, as she insisted on being called – was a veritable force of nature. Three years older than her husband, she was nonetheless a constant source of energy, bustling here and there and joining in the workings with enthusiasm. She had a wild Irish temper to match her fading cinnamon hair; even Miss Alice had been on the receiving end of one of her stubborn fits. The occasional upsets aside, she was a likeable woman, and feistiness was a great virtue in Cutter Gap, after all.

My days were spent chiefly at school, trying to incorporate new subjects into the curriculum. Opal had given me the idea to integrate "art" classes – the girls worked on improving needlepoint skills and began learning the basics of knitting and weaving. Granny Barclay was kind enough to spare some of her time to teach, since I was pitifully inept with any sort of sewing. The boys were taught some carpentry and carving, with the help of Jeb and Mr. Holcombe.

Penmanship and spelling were special points of interest for the year, and the children worked on them with minimal amounts of grumbling. And of course, at my request, the science lessons were taught by a very talented doctor; I paid him for his work with a steady salary of kisses, though he did demand a "raise" on occasion, which I was only too happy to give.

Neil and I were officially courting now, with the full blessing of my parents – or rather, of my father. Mother had not yet accepted the fact that her daughter had made her choice; our relationship was somewhat strained, although Father did his best to smooth it over. From his descriptions, I could only imagine that she was still hoping I would come to my senses and choose one of the Asheville gentlemen she had picked out for me.

I knew it would be a drawn-out struggle between us; Mother was nothing if not determined. I fretted that Neil would be hurt by her immediate rejection, but he assured me that as long as I wanted him, no one's disapproval would matter a whit. My father had offered us his consent, and that was all he required.

Of course, there was more approval than not on our side of the state. Now that the Doctor and I were courting, the daily question was how soon we were going to be married. I brushed off the suggestive comments as best I could, still somewhat uncomfortable with that kind of forthrightness. Where I came from, a person's romantic life was an improper subject for conversation; and even now I couldn't stop myself from blushing at the frank mention of marriage and children.

Besides, there was no need to rush things, despite Ruby Mae's belief in short engagements. We were both relatively young, and it had always seemed to me that building a firm relationship before marriage guaranteed its success. I enjoyed the excitement and romance of our courtship, and I was reluctant to see it come to an end.

Neil really was marvelously patient with me. He had been alone so long that it would not have surprised anyone – including me – if he had asked for a spring wedding. I probably would have agreed to it; it was impossible to refuse him anything, especially since he asked for so little from me. Why, it had been two weeks full after our telephone call to Father before he even attempted to kiss me.

That memory was a particularly fond one: he had brought me out to the river to fish, and though I proceeded to scare away every living thing in the water with my abysmal casting, Neil had just laughed and encouraged me to try again. We spent the entire day there on the riverbank, and when we finally gave up, I was drenched and breathless with laughter, my hair falling in sweaty strands around my face, mud splashed over my skirt and hands — and he kissed me, right there in the river.

We fumbled with clumsy passion, but nothing had ever been sweeter. His big hands trembled where they cradled my face, and my heart had expanded to encompass a new explosion of love for him. In that moment, we were truly equals, Neil and I – a man and a woman who had struggled through a great deal to find this happiness together.

After all the conflict of the past year, it was a delight to be free from anxiety and uncertainty, though that peace was rather upset a few weeks after the Iversons' arrival.

Miss Alice, Mrs. Iverson, Zady Spencer, and I had been thoroughly cleaning out the small attic room in the mission house when Anne pulled me aside.

"I was charged with giving this to you when Moses visited Reverend Grantland to speak about his new position," she said, directing me into the empty parlor, "and I've been waiting for the right moment to give you this. Something tells me this is right time."

She reached into her apron pocket and drew out a letter with a sly look, and I discovered why when I saw the bold, familiar handwriting on the envelope. David.

With trembling hands, I took it and tore open the manilla paper; there was only one sheet, covered with his messy scrawl.

To Miss Christy Huddleston, Cutter Gap, Tennessee,

Dear Christy,

I meant to send this letter sooner, but I wasn't entirely sure how to approach it – there are so many things that we left unsaid that I hardly know where to start.

Ida and I are in Boston still, living with Mother, whose health continues to fail, though we are praying for a swift recovery. I am employed in my childhood parish, under the direction of Reverend Arthur Brookes, who is helping me work through many of the struggles that affected me during my time in the Cove. I think I am finally beginning to understand what Miss Alice tried to make me see; I am trying to turn over my life to God, wholly and completely. It is not easy, but I believe I now understand how essential it is to everything else in my life.

It has been an adjustment living in the city again – I confess that I miss the openness of the mountain country. Everything seems so crowded and smoky here in Boston.

I sincerely hope you have been content, whatever path you chose. When Ida and I left, I wouldn't let you talk to me like you wanted to – I wouldn't listen to you when you tried to make things right between us – and I am heartily sorry for it. I regret that I ignored the problems; everything aside, we had a friendship that ought to have been respected. For that, I ask your forgiveness.

This seems like too brief a message, after months of separation, but I honestly cannot find a way to express what I feel in words. I think you understand – you always knew me better than I knew myself. I wish you every happiness in the world, and let that suffice.

Sincerely,

David Grantland

My throat was tight as I laid the letter aside, and I was surprised at the rush of feeling that overwhelmed me at the sight of his name – I missed him so much. But this letter...I didn't know what to think. There was something so very final about it, as if he were contacting me only to slip away again before I had the opportunity to reply.

I had toyed with the notion of writing to him for several months, but considering the note on which we had parted, I did not know whether he would welcome any correspondence. I must have started the beginnings of a hundred letters, but I had never known what to say or how to say it. The situation with Neil complicated it; I could hardly renew our friendship only to tell him that I was in love with someone else. Poor David! I still regretted the inexperience that had resulted in an injury to one of the best men I had ever known.

Escaping up to my room at Anne's suggestion, I had reread the brief letter a dozen times, trying to understand what David meant by writing it. Perhaps he hoped for a platonic friendship; perhaps he no longer loved me in the way that he once had; perhaps he loved me still. There was no definite answer.

I knew I had to reply – he had given me an apology when I didn't deserve one, and I needed his forgiveness too. I was so pleased to hear that he was trying to change himself, pleased that he had not given up on his calling, but what could I possibly say? How could I recover the kinship that had always bound us together without giving false hope?

Whispering a prayer for His guidance, I had sat down at the desk to compose my reply, little knowing what the consequences would be.

A/N: Oh, gee, I posted! ; ) I hope everyone had a lovely holiday and that no one minds that I skipped ahead here a bit; if I went step-by-step through Neil and Christy's initial courtship, I would never finish this story. But rest assured, we shall see more interaction between the happy couple in future chapters.

Thanks for your comments and support!