River Deep, Mountain High
Standard disclaimers apply to this piece of Christy fan fiction.
This story continues where the TV series left off. Any similarities to other works of Christy fan fiction are purely coincidental.
Chapter 14
"What do you plan to do with your share of the persimmons this year, Fairlight?" Christy asked her friend as they picked the ripe reddish-orange fruits that grew aplenty in the grove they called Persimmon Hill.
"Jeb an' the young'uns say, 'If we have to eat persimmon this or persimmon that one more time…". Fairlight shook her head, reaching high through the green leaves for another piece of fruit.
Christy laughed. "I expect that means you'll be selling most of them," she replied.
"Well, I plum ran out o' recipes last year," the tall blonde woman said. "I expect I'll keep some, an' then sell the rest. The cash money we got last year sure helped a heap."
Christy could hardly believe how fast the time had flown by. An entire year had passed since she and Fairlight found this persimmon grove, before the last Thanksgiving. The preceding harvest had been bad because of the draught, and Christy had feared a bad winter in the Cove with many of the people left ill-equipped to survive, lacking both the grain and the money they needed to live on. But with Fairlight's fortuitous discovery of the persimmons and the success of Miss Alice's game hunt, Cutter Gap had a bountiful Thanksgiving feast, with more than enough to go around. The entire Cove shared in the rewards of the hard-fought struggle. It was truly a miracle, Christy thought.
Fortunately, the people of Cutter Gap were in a better situation this year. The harvest was good and the persimmons plentiful, but many of the men still decided to take advantage of the time to hunt and gather as much additional food as possible, just in case. They could sell the furs and hides in El Pano, and the meat would help nourish their families.
"Finding these persimmons was surely a blessing, Fairlight," Christy marveled, finally brought out of her reverie. "And I already took the liberty and inquired with the shops in Asheville and Knoxville, and they are expecting double the number of orders of persimmon preserves from last year!"
"Ain't it a wonder what city-folk will buy!" Fairlight mused.
"Well, with the holidays approaching," Christy began, "I expect people are already planning their party menus and gifts."
"How do yer folks feel 'bout ye not comin' home for Thanksgiving?" Fairlight asked Christy.
"They're a bit disappointed, naturally," Christy admitted as she continued to pluck the ripe fruit from the lower tree branches. She knew how her parents, and her mother especially, loved the Thanksgiving holiday. "But I know they'll get over it. I told them I would think about coming back for a visit over Christmas." Secretly, however, Christy had only said it to appease her parents. She couldn't imagine leaving the Cove right now, despite the fact that she hadn't seen her parents in a year.
The women continued to pick as many persimmons as they could reach without the assistance of a ladder. They planned to have a working the coming weekend where the women of the Cove would come to harvest the rest of the fruit. David, Jeb and some of the other men would bring their ladders to reach any stranded reddish spheres at tops of the trees.
Their baskets now full, Christy and Fairlight sat on a blanket under the trees and enjoyed, literally, the fruits of their labor. Fairlight eyed her young friend, her mind obviously fixated on something, and after long moments of contented silence, she mustered the nerve to speak the contents of her thoughts.
"I see ye been spendin' a lot of time with Doctor MacNeill." Christy averted her eyes for a moment, slightly embarrassed. "Did ye ever tell him about yer feelin's, Christy? It's been neigh on two months since Margaret passed."
"I did speak to Neil a while ago, when Margaret was sick," Christy confessed. "I told him he was my best friend." Fairlight's expression indicated that was not exactly what she had in mind, but Christy ignored her friend's exasperated sigh. "We are still friends, like we were before. Just because Margaret's gone, Fairlight, doesn't mean that has changed."
Christy shifted her body weight as she sat on the hard ground, feeling suddenly defensive. Yes, it was true that she and Neil had been spending a lot of time together. And why shouldn't they? He and Christy were friends. They were good friends. He helped her with science lessons, just like he'd been doing for the past two years. He listened to her ideas about new education classes for the adults of Cutter Gap. Neil was always encouraging and enthusiastic when she came to speak to him. He made her feel confident and secure.
"We're just friends, Fairlight," Christy repeated with emphasis, more to convince herself than the wise, insightful woman sitting next to her.
"Mmmhmm," Fairlight grinned slyly, sinking her teeth in to the juicy flesh of a persimmon. She seemed doubtful about her friend's explanation, but she decided not to say any more about it. She knew that Christy and Neil would figure things out on their own, and in their own time. Fairlight mused to herself, thinking of that famous verse from Ecclesiastes: To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.
She would just have to be patient, Fairlight decided, and put her trust in the Good Lord to help show the young schoolteacher and stubborn Doctor the love that was plain in front of them. And if that didn't work, maybe some friendly, gentle intervention would help move the course of nature along.
***
Chapter 15
Christy had just drifted off to sleep when she was awakened suddenly by the sound of the heavy footsteps on the first floor of the Mission. She instantly knew from the din and clamor below that there was trouble.
"Miss Christy! Miss Alice!" Dan Scott bellowed loudly, his voice strained and breathing ragged.
The Quaker missionary simultaneously tied her robe shut over her nightgown and glided down the stairs with such a sense of urgency but with graceful fluidity, it was as though she were floating. The brown-grey braid flew behind her, and she quickly put her spectacles on to inspect the situation.
Christy flung the door of her room open moments later and descended the stairs with Ruby Mae close behind. The red-headed girl gasped loudly when she saw the sight in front of her. "Oh, Lordy!"
It was Bird's-Eye Taylor. He was being dragged into the Mission house by Dan Scott, bleeding.
"He's been shot up bad, Miss Alice," Dan said, his breathing still heavy with the strain and exertion of carrying another man.
David burst into the Mission, startled, but seeing the scene before him, he instinctively helped Dan and Alice lift the injured man onto the kitchen table to assess the damage. Bird's-Eye yelped in pain as his tattered hat fell to the floor and Dan Scott tore open the filthy shirt, removing the temporary dressing he had applied after he first found Bird's Eye, and revealed the bloodied hole in his left shoulder. The bullet went clean through to the other side.
"He's been shot in the leg, too!" Alice remarked, seeing the makeshift tourniquet just above the seeping wound from the back of his right calf. She ripped the pant leg wide open and saw the bullet was still lodged deep within the flesh.
"Doctor MacNeill is in Knoxville, picking up supplies. He will be gone for another two days," Alice said, her voice as calm as possible, under the circumstances. "Christy, please get my medical bag."
Without hesitation, Christy ran upstairs and found the black medical bag on Miss Alice's dresser. She was back moments later.
"Ruby Mae," Christy told the girl, who was practically hyperventilating at this point, "boil some water in the kitchen. She turned to Alice, "I'll get some clean rags to help stop the bleeding."
Miss Alice smiled slightly at Christy's intuitiveness, nodding in approval. Christy had learned a great deal about how to handle these kinds of medical emergencies during her time in Cutter Gap. Unfortunately, she'd had to witness more injuries than she would care to think about. When she first came to the Cove, she nearly fainted at Bob Allen's surgery. The thought of Doctor MacNeill drilling a hole into the man's skull was too much to handle. But ever since the time she helped with Little Burl's surgery, she was able to find the strength to overcome her own constitutional limitations and do the job that was necessary to help save the lives of the people she cared about. Even Bird's-Eye Taylor.
With some gentle prodding, Ruby Mae ran off into the kitchen to do as she was instructed. At least if she was busy, Christy thought, she wouldn't be in the way. Christy returned shortly with a pile of fresh white linen bandages which Dan Scott used to help clean the shoulder wound. Bird's-Eye writhed in pain when the alcohol stung his tender flesh, and Dan made a tacit motion to David to request his assistance in holding the man down and keeping him still while he continued his ministrations.
Once Miss Alice's limited collection of surgical instruments had been sterilized in the boiling water, she meticulously laid out the instruments on a clean, dry cloth on a nearby side table.
"This will not be pleasant, Mr. Taylor," she warned the patient, "but if you hold very still, it will help tremendously."
Alice said a short prayer asking God's help and guidance in overseeing the task they were about to undertake. Then, as she was about to begin her work to remove the bullet that was lodged in Bird's-Eye's leg, Dan Scott quietly interrupted her.
"Let me do it, Miss Alice," Dan Scott said, looking into her eyes deeply, the meaning in his words instantly understood by the perceptive Quaker.
Dan Scott had been plagued by guilt after he wrongfully accused Bird's-Eye of burning down his cabin many months ago when, in fact, the fire was an accident, caused by Creed Allen who was smoking rabbit tobacco in the woods nearby. Dan found himself guilty of harboring the same kind of hate and prejudice that had haunted him his whole life. Helping to heal Bird's-Eye Taylor seemed the only way he might be able to finally set things right. So, in silent comprehension, Alice turned the job over to Dan and took his place tending to the shoulder instead.
Seeing Bird's-Eye beginning to squirm and thrash about on the table when he saw Dan pick up the ominous looking steel implement, Miss Alice reached back into her medical bag and pulled out a small amber bottle. "Drink up, Mr. Taylor," she said, as she poured the contents into his mouth. Bird's-Eye cringed slightly, feeling the familiar burning sensation as the liquid slid down his throat. His body began to relax under the effects of the white lightning.
Looking up to see David's shocked countenance, she merely smiled. "In such circumstances when the proper pain-abating medicine is absent, moonshine provides a fine substitute."
With deft hands, Dan Scott began probing for the bullet in the leg. He moved as gently as he could around flesh, muscle and tendon, until he pulled out the small, solid metal ball. He cleaned the wound, and seeing the profuse bleeding had slowed substantially, he left it open so it could be continuously cleaned and heal from the inside out.
The shoulder and calf injuries now properly dressed with the bleeding under control, David and Dan carefully moved Bird's-Eye Taylor to the bedroom on the first floor next to the kitchen. They discarded what was left of the bloodied, tattered garments he wore and helped their patient into a fresh nightshirt and into a clean, warm bed. Within minutes, Bird's-Eye drifted off to sleep.
***
Chapter 16
Drained both mentally and physically, Dan Scott sat by the fire in the parlor recounting to Alice, David, and Christy the events leading up to his arrival at the Mission with an injured Bird's-Eye.
Having recently returned from visiting his ailing mother in Kentucky, Dan had been working late on his cabin, still trying to rebuild it after the fire. Though he was staying in the bunkhouse with David now that the weather was turning colder, no one thought it unusual when Dan didn't appear at the Mission for supper that night. The determined man often worked into the late hours of the night, attempting to get the cabin finished by the time winter crept into the mountains.
Dan explained that he was about to leave his cabin site for the night, since it had turned dark hours before, when he heard the sound of gunshots echo in the distance. Using the light of a kerosene lantern, he began to search his surroundings, rifle in hand, and made his way cautiously towards the sound of the disturbance. He stopped when he heard the desperate cries of a man yelping in pain. He listened and began to hear heavy footsteps, awkward and irregular as they swept through the bramble, branches, and brittle leaves covering the ground in the woods nearby. Dan nearly collided with Bird's-Eye Taylor, who was still trying to run on his one good leg, dragging the lame one behind him. Bird's-Eye collapsed in a ragged, bloody heap on the ground.
Quickly assessing the wounds by lamplight, Dan took stock of the damage. He managed to dress the shoulder wound crudely with remnants of a burlap sack and improvised a tourniquet to help staunch the flow of blood from the hemorrhaging leg. Eyeing the Negro suspiciously through narrowed slits, but in no condition to fight him, Bird's-Eye let Dan tend to his wounds and help carry him to the Mission.
"I came here as fast as I could," Dan told them. "I didn't run into whoever might have shot Bird's-Eye on the way. Whoever did it is likely long gone by now."
"Did Mr. Taylor happen to mention who might have wanted to harm him?" Alice inquired.
Dan shook his head. "No. Though I imagine he's got his fair share of enemies, what with the feud and all."
"There hasn't been any trouble between the Taylors and Allens for quite some time now," David mentioned. "Not since Lundy accidentally shot Bird's-Eye and then went missing."
Christy still felt the bitter sting of Lundy's disappearance even after so many months. She desperately wanted him and his father to reconcile, and they nearly had when she saw Lundy kneeling by his father's bedside and pray for his recovery. She thought he might come back to school, and that she could make a difference in his life. Lundy was not an unintelligent boy, Christy knew. He was neither addle-pated nor twitter-witted, as Bird's-Eye called him. That day when Christy stumbled upon the boy hiding out under some brush in the woods, she had found him reading Charles Dickens' Great Expectations. It was a novel of a boy who overcame a life of poverty and hardship to better himself and become an educated gentleman, all because he had been given the chance to do so by a mysterious benefactor. Lundy had aspired to do the same, Christy remembered. In that moment, she saw a glimpse of the man Lundy wanted to be, just as Opal had seen through his father's gruff exterior to find the heart of healer when he fixed the leg of lame fawn.
But since Lundy ran off, Bird's-Eye seemed different. Without the help of Tom McHone to help smuggle the white lightning, Bird's-Eye dismantled his still, at least the one that Christy and David knew of, and kept mainly to himself. He visited Miss Hattie occasionally, and other than the grudge he held with Dan Scott after being wrongfully accused of setting fire to his cabin, he seemed somehow quieter and mellower.
"I expect our questions will have to wait until morning, when Mr. Taylor is awake to answer them," Miss Alice told them. "You should all try to get some sleep."
"I'll keep watch on Bird's-Eye, Alice," David offered. "And be on the lookout for anyone who might know he is here with intent to do harm"
"Reverend," Dan interceded, "if you don't mind, I think I'd like to sit up with Mr. Taylor."
David saw that Dan Scott was still trying to make amends by tending to the man who had once been his enemy, so he nodded in acquiescence and bid everyone good night, turning to head outside to the sanctuary of his bunkhouse. Christy gently woke Ruby Mae, who was dozing on the settee in the parlor, and they headed upstairs together, followed by Miss Alice.
"Keep your wits about you, Daniel," Alice said, warily, halfway up the staircase.
"I will, Miss Alice. Goodnight," he said.
Now alone, Dan picked up a rifle and quietly crept into Bird's-Eye's room to begin the night's long vigil.
***
Chapter 17
"You did a fine job on these gunshot wounds," Doctor MacNeill told Dan Scott, finishing up his examination of Bird's-Eye.
Doctor MacNeill just returned from Knoxville where he replenished his medical supplies, which had gotten dangerously low, in preparation for winter. Having heard of Bird's-Eye's incident, he stopped at the Mission first thing to examine the patient and check on his protégé's work.
"You made the right call deciding not to close up the wounds until you could be sure there'd be no infection. It looks like they should heal nicely, if they continue to be kept clean."
Dan was relieved to hear Neil's promising prognosis. Though he felt he had done the right thing medically, he was still relatively new at doctoring and acknowledged that he still needed the supervision and reassurance that came with Doctor MacNeill's years of experience.
"When kin I be on ma way, Doc?" Bird's-Eye asked, his gaze alternating between Neil and Dan Scott. He was still wary of the dark man, unsure how to act around him.
"Bird's-Eye, it's only been two days since Dan found you. You still require a good deal of rest and nutrition if you are to heal properly," Neil instructed. Seeing the stubborn set of thickly stubbled jaw and narrow-slit eyes peering at him, Neil continued, trying to make Mr. Taylor understand the gravity of the situation. "You ought to be thankful Dan Scott found you and was able to remove the bullet and stop the bleeding. He saved your life, you know."
The grizzled expression on Bird's-Eye's face slowly vanished at the stark realization at the doctor's words. He glanced at Dan Scott speculatively, but still warily, unwilling to let his guard down completely.
"Besides, you're not out of the woods yet," Neil said. "Infection and fever could still set in, and they no doubt will if you run back to your mountain before you are completely healed. We need to wait until the wounds close to keep the flesh free of filth and disease."
In addition to the concern for infection, Neil was also aware that the minute he let Bird's-Eye leave the care and supervision of the Mission, the man would likely be after whoever shot him. Attempted murder was not likely to go un-avenged, and then it would simply be a matter of time before a feud would be in full force. The longer he could manage to keep Bird's-Eye at the Mission, the safer he was, and the safer the rest of the people in the Cover were as well. Too many innocent people had become inadvertent victims in a feud. Bird's-Eye knew that better than anyone else. He became an accidental victim when his son Lundy mistook him for Isaak McHone, and before that, he was nearly hanged under a false accusation of shooting Tom McHone. Feuding truly was a curse on his people, Doctor MacNeill knew.
The Doctor rose from the bedside and stood next to Dan. "We'll be back often to keep monitoring you for signs of fever and infection. In the meantime, you're not to move from that bed," Neil wagged his finger at Bird's-Eye in a warning fashion. "If you need help, call for it and someone will come to assist you. You're in good hands here."
Closing the door behind them, Neil and Dan walked out of earshot of Bird's-Eye and sat on the front porch. Neil leaned the chair back against the wooden frame of the Mission house and reached for his pipe and pouch of tobacco. He took a pinch of the pungent substance and tamped it down in his pipe. He struck a match and took several short puffs until the smoke began to curl from the other end. Finally feeling relaxation setting in, he exhaled deeply.
"Did Bird's-Eye say who shot him?" Neil asked.
"No, he won't say," Dan shook his head with a sigh. "He knows who did it, I can tell that much."
"Did he tell you that?"
"No, but it was clear as daylight," Dan said. "Word around here is most folks think Bird's-Eye was shot by some moonshiners from over the state line. When he shut down his stills, they were none too pleased about it."
Neil nodded in agreement. "Hmmm. Makes sense, I suppose. But we'd better keep a close watch on the Mission, to make sure no one comes around looking to finish the job."
"So far it's been quiet 'round here," Dan told him. "Maybe whoever shot Bird's-Eye thinks they managed to kill him. A few inches on that bullet to the shoulder, and he'd be in the ground right now."
Neil took another long drag on his pipe and then let the smoke escape his lips in wavy rings and wispy clouds. "Let's just hope you're right."
***
Bird's-Eye disappeared a week later when his wounds were fully closed and healed. Even with a lingering limp in his leg from the recent gunshot wound, the man managed to steal away one night without anyone knowing. Still more weeks passed by, and no one in the Cove had seen nor heard from Bird's-Eye Taylor, or the person who inflicted the damage on him.
It was just after Thanksgiving when Jeb organized the men of the Cove for a working to help finish Dan Scott's cabin before winter. Most of the mountain men agreed to help as Dan's acceptance by the Cove families continued to grow since he became a more permanent and familiar presence both at the Mission and during Doctor MacNeill's patient visits.
Christy was setting up the lunch tables with Fairlight and the other women, when something suddenly caught her eye, leaving her slack-mouthed and filled with an inexplicable trepidation. It was Bird's-Eye Taylor. He appeared from nowhere in his characteristic fashion and began to approach David and Dan Scott, whose sawing instantly ceased when they spotted him. A hush fell over the men, a few inching closer towards their rifles. Bird's-Eye was also armed, though his ability to use the weapon was greatly hindered with his left arm still in a sling. Absently, Christy weaved through the assembly of onlookers, many of whom stood still as statues, moving closer until she eventually stopped to stand next to Doctor MacNeill.
Narrowed eyes scanned the crowd carefully, finally focusing on the man approaching. Dan Scott had stepped away from the rest of the men and moved slowly towards Bird's-Eye.
"Mr. Taylor," Dan tipped his hat slightly in greeting. He then did something completely unexpected. Dan Scott extended his right arm, still exercising caution, to the man who had been his nemesis and tormentor. "Welcome, friend."
Looking down at Dan Scott with guarded eyes from beneath the sweat-stained brim of his shabby hat, Bird's-Eye tried to sum up the man standing before him. The two men looked at each other eye-to-eye, the onlookers holding a collective breath, wondering what would happen next.
The suspicious expression slowly melted from Bird's-Eye's face, and he looked down at the arm extended in front of him, questioningly at first, then reached out his own and accepted it. The men shook hands, and a wave of relief flooded over the people who were gathered.
"I jes' come to say I'm obleeged ta ya for what ya done for me when I were shot," Mr. Taylor said to him, a grateful look in his eyes.
Through the tenuous bonds of Bird's-Eye's newfound respect and gratitude, Dan at last he felt free of the terrible guilt that had plagued him. A slight grin split Dan Scott's face at the hard-earned victory.
Bird's-Eye turned and looked at David and then at Christy and Miss Alice who were nearby. "I didn't want no trouble comin' to the mishin-folk on account o' me, so I left. But there won't be no trouble no more."
Not knowing exactly what Bird's-Eye meant by that, Miss Alice decided to break the tension. "We would be honored, Mr. Taylor, if thee would stay and join us for lunch."
"No thank ye, ma'am. I bes' be goin'." And with a slight nod to her and a final quick glance in thanks to Dan Scott, he stepped backwards into the woods and disappeared into the dense underbrush as quickly and as stealthily as when he first appeared.
***
TO BE CONTINUED