CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

ALTHOUGH THE SHOCK of Fairlight's death was still fresh in the minds of Jeb and the children, the Spencers were at last beginning to heal. She was gone, but the promise I had made to her after her funeral was a constant reminder of her presence. I could not come into their cabin to cook supper or help Zady and Clara with the cleaning without feeling her over my shoulder, watching my fumbling attempts at housework with amusement. I knew somehow, somewhere, she was looking after us – always the quintessential wife, mother, and friend.

Now I missed her more than ever, frequently finding myself walking to the Spencer cabin to discuss some new experience at school or ask for advice about Neil, only to remember halfway up the trail that Fairlight was no longer there waiting for me.

When she wasn't doing chores, Zady spent most of her spare time at the mission; I knew she craved affection and attention – Jeb did his best, but it wasn't in his nature to be open with his children – and I often contrived to have her join me on little errands. I loved her dearly; she was so much like Fairlight, and it wasn't a bother at all to have her around. There was such sweetness in her, but such strength, something I had come to see was at the core of many of the Cove women. That courage would serve her well later in life, and I wondered at times if I would be up to meeting those challenges myself. In any case, I enjoyed her company; she was far quieter than Ruby Mae, especially around Anne, whose unpredictable disposition intimidated her.

John was at the mission almost as much as his sister. Reverend Iverson wasn't fit for much physical labor, so he had agreed to hire John to help out with the more strenuous tasks, paying him a generous salary for his efforts. He was a good boy and a very hard worker, and the money would make life easier for the Spencers come winter.

My free time was pretty much divided between the Spencer and McHone cabins, although I still paid my weekly visit to Swannie and the O'Teale children. Neil had made it a habit to come with me when he could, presumably to check on the health of the families, but I suspected his enjoyment had a lot more to do with the fact that we always had at least an hour to ourselves on the walks to and from the mission.

Today, however, I was on my own – Opal made it a habit to have a "baking day" once a week, and I loved to come over and help. The task was easy enough for me not to make a fool of myself, and the kinship I felt with Opal was special to me. It made me feel like a part of her family, and she couldn't know how much that meant.

This week cornbread was the order of business: I sat at the table, kneading the dough set in front of me while Opal commanded the process with the precision of a drill sergeant, mixing fresh batter and taking the finished loaves off the fire before they burned. Toot and Vincent were playing in the loft; every so often their rowdy antics would send a cloud of straw shooting out into the air and unto the floor, but Opal only shook her head tolerantly and let them have their fun.

Isaak was out hunting, for which I was grateful. I suspected he had taken off as soon as he saw me coming up the hill; my visit today wasn't just for some cooking lessons. What had started as a small problem in the schoolroom was rapidly evolving into something more serious, and I couldn't ignore it any longer.

Opal, as always, uncannily picked up on my mood. She set a bowl of cornflour down on the table and leaned over, looking at me with a smile. "Say what you gotta say afore you explode." She laughed at my look of surprise. "I can see it writ all over yer face. Ye've got a reason fer comin' today."

"Actually, there is a reason," I said, smiling despite myself. "As much fun as this is, I have something I need to discuss with you."

My expression must have said everything, for Opal grew serious and quickly sent the boys outside to gather some brush for the fire. I waited until Vincent and Toot had gone out into the yard before turning to my friend. "Opal, I wanted to talk to you about Isaak."

An inscrutable look masked her face, and she let out a faint sigh. "Tell me what ye have to say. I reckon it ain't anything I haven't been worryin' about myself."

"You've noticed, then? His behavior?"

"I'm his momma," she said, grasping the steaming pan with her apron and setting it atop the mantle, "and try as he might, he cain't keep those things from me. He's like his pa, always so quiet, but a body can read his face like a book."

"He's not concentrating in class or doing his homework," I said, "and I've had to reprimand him several times for picking fights with some of the other boys. Isaak has always been such a good student....I...I just wanted you to know."

"He's full of hate, Miz Christy, and I reckon he don't care iffen he's doin' his schoolwork," she said matter-of-factly. "I know Rev'rend Grantland tried to help, but now that he's left, Isaak don't have nobody to talk to. I fret about him. I don't want him ter be so angry, but he won't tell me nothin' anymore. My sweet little boy...."

There was a momentary silence as Opal sat at the table, looking down at her work-worn hands.

"He ain't forgiven me yet fer letting Bird's-Eye in the cabin that night, when you was with us," she said, her tone light but her eyes weary. "I reckon he sees it as betrayal – Tom wouldn't have never gotten kilt if..."

"Opal," I interrupted. "It wasn't your fault. You saved Tom because of what you did. Bird's-Eye never hurt him."

"No, I suppose he didn't," she said softly.

"It wasn't your fault that Lundy took it into his head to prove he was a man either. Your kindness to those moonshiners didn't harm Tom."

She sighed again, and I saw her lips quiver ever so slightly before she stood up to put the next pan over the fire. "It's jest hard sometimes, is all." Her eyes were full of silent anguish. "I cain't help but wonder if Tom didn't think I was true either. You know 'bout me an' Bird's-Eye. I cain't stand thinkin' Tom mighta died feelin' like I chose someone else over him." Her voice broke, and she turned back to the fire.

Words were so inadequate. What could I say? For the first time in several months, I felt like the child I was. I had never known the pain of losing a husband – just the thought of a life without Neil was too dreadful to contemplate – and I wished Miss Alice was here to give Opal all the right assurances.

Opal kept her back to me, but I saw her lift her faded apron to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry, Miz Christy – I didn't mean ter bend yer ear, but I got some regrets that jest won't let go. If there's anythin' I learnt, it's that I oughta been honest with Tom, and told him what mattered."

"Oh, Opal..." I whispered, very much affected by her words. I knew how much she had loved Tom, yet it couldn't have been easy for him to watch his wife open up her heart to care for the men who were hunting him. For the first time, I wondered how Neil had been able to watch me grow closer to David day by day, unable to approach me himself.

"Don't you fret none fer me," Opal said, returning her attention to the fireplace. "I'll think of somethin'."

"Opal —"

"If Isaak gets hisself into more tomfoolery, you tell me, Miz Christy, ye hear?"

I nodded and let Opal change the subject, but I could not forget what she said. Coupled with David's letter, it seemed almost too much of a coincidence. Perhaps I was due for a talk with Neil.

I had my opportunity the next afternoon; Neil was taking me to his favorite spot behind his cabin, where the trees thinned into a small sunny glade. The grass was soft and sweet, and the sounds of the river filtered into the thatch – this was Neil's sanctuary.

As he bustled around, setting down a blanket for me to sit on and sorting through the tackle box for just the right fly, I closed my eyes and daydreamed, remembering the first time he had brought me here, a week after we began courting in earnest.

He had been so nervous, so full of anxiety that I wouldn't like the view or I was be bored whiling away the day in such a way, but it took very little to convince him that his fears were unnecessary. The meadow was beautiful, and I could have happily stayed there with him forever.

We had often come back since then, when we were in need of a quiet moment together. Our visits had to be relatively brief, as our reputations were still fairly fragile. It was only natural that attention should fall onto us, but there would never be any sort of scandal, as Neil zealously safeguarded my good name. There was a true gentleman underneath that rough-edged exterior.

Today, at least, we were secured of a few hours' time together. I lazed on the blanket and watched him fiddle with the reel, marveling at how delicately his blunt fingers adjusted the little wheel and string. He was a walking paradox, my Neil – how could a man be so strong and so gentle all at once?

I rolled onto my side to see him better as he wound up the fishing wire, the muscles in his arms shifting beneath his shirt. A wave of smug, feminine pride swept through me – I guessed that I really wasn't as sophisticated as Mother wanted me to be, since I found the sight of him casual and disheveled infinitely more appealing than neat formality.

"Neil?" I said, the sound of my voice unusually loud after that long spell of silence.

He turned to smile at me. "Yes?"

"David wrote to me."

There was a pregnant pause, a faltering of his grasp on the reel, but otherwise he was carefully stoic, waiting politely for me to say what I had to say.

"He apologized to me and wished us well. He doesn't exactly sound happy, but I believe he'll be better soon." His expression still hadn't changed. "Neil, can we talk?"

He put down the pole at once, coming over to sit beside me; I reached for his hand and he gripped mine tightly. "What is it, Christy?"

"I talked with Opal today," I told him, "and I realized that I haven't been entirely honest with you."

Hearing the sadness in my voice, he stopped and turned to face me. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I know I've treated you unfairly – you and David."

He started to protest, but I interrupted. "I know that the past is the past, but I realized while I was with Opal that we haven't been open with each other about David, or about what happened between all three of us." I met his eyes, and saw nothing but patient curiosity there. "I did love him, Neil."

He flinched a little, but didn't look away.

"I was lonely, and he was there...I think I would have married him if things had turned out differently, but I also know that I would have lived with regrets if I had." I squeezed his hand. "I'm telling you this because I need you to understand. I don't know exactly what David had in mind when he wrote to me, but you need to know that I no longer love him the way I did before. In another set of circumstances, he might have been the one for me, but you and I," I smiled, "we have something more, something a hundred times stronger, and you have to see that I love you and only you. Don't forget that."

I trembled, the last of my bravery draining away with the end of my dramatic speech. Neil awkwardly smoothed the hair back from my forehead and kissed me softly, poignantly. "I'll never forget it. I love you."

I laughed with pure relief, knowing it wasn't easy for him to say those words to me, even now. "I love you too."

A/N: Aww! Aren't they just pwecious? ; ) Neil 'n Christy's courtship will still be the focus of the story, but things will start to get interesting in the Cove soon. It's just been too peaceful – we need some action.

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