'New' Companions

Neil's outrageous teasing was exactly what was needed to break the tension. It reminded her that they were friends, that she got along with him as well as she did with anyone else, maybe even better.

"In twenty years, I'm still going to remember you said that," she said, looking up at him with her best teacherly expression. As soon as she said it, she saw the impact of her words, of their meaning, on her new husband.

Margaret certainly hadn't stayed for twenty years.

Neil's eyes searched her face as if memorizing her expression, and then he said, "Good."

That feeling that her lungs were full to bursting was back, so Christy looked behind them to see that most of the attendees had headed up to lunch. The remaining wedding guests were bunched up in groups, clearly waiting to speak to them.

"What now?" she whispered to Neil.

"Now, we starve."

Christy whipped her head back to look at him. "What?"

"It's tradition. Every single person who saw the ceremony will want a word. We won't be able to get a bite in edgewise." He nodded toward the Mission. "Don't worry, I've sent Dan Scott to make himself useful by getting us some plates and taking them up to the cabin."

"Neil, this was his chance to socialize!" she said, distressed. Dan was close to Miss Alice and Christy, but that didn't mean as much as Neil's approval. As a doctor he'd gotten a few chances to prove his mettle in tough situations, and speaking easily with Neil in a setting like this would be really useful.

"Don't fret, he'll be back later. By then, everyone will be in a friendlier mood. He'll be your favorite wedding guest when we finally do get to eat, I promise you."

Christy looked out at the daunting task in front of her, and all she could think was, Mother would have warned me about this, if she were here. Julia Huddleston would have flitted from group to group, answering questions and smoothing the way for them. Instead, Christy had completely missed the 'greeting everyone' expectation, and was therefore unprepared. She was hungry, thirsty, and nervous, and all she wanted to do was hide in her bedroom for a few hours by herself.

You'll be sharing a bedroom now, she remembered. That was one of the things she'd decided not to dwell on, in the past few days.

Neil moved back a step or two, frowning. "You look like you're about to throw up all over my Aunt Hattie's dress."

"I'm nervous," Christy admitted. "It turns out my confidence is tied to knowing -or thinking I know- what I'm talking about, and I have no idea what I'm doing today."

"Will this help?" With a gentle smile, Neil reached down and took her left hand, shaking it as if to show his grip was sturdy. "You're supposed to be getting used to being near me, remember?"

Something wild and untamed flared up deep inside her at his touch. It was somehow both distracting and reassuring, especially because she could feel the unfamiliar pressure of that beautiful ring he'd placed on her finger. Christy nodded, her heart full with things to say and things to conceal.

"Good. Let's go speak with Aunt Hattie."

As they approached, Hattie leaned her head to the side and smiled. "That's the Allens' special soap! Hello Christy, Neil. That was a mighty fine service."

She never ceased to be amazed by just how attuned Neil's aunt was to the world around her. "Thank you so much for the dress. I can hardly tell you how much it meant to have something special at such short notice."

"She looks truly beautiful in it, I can tell you," Neil added.

"Well now, I don't have to have sight to know that! You sound a different kind of confident today, Christy. If lendin' you the dress helped with that, I'm well pleased."

"Dan was honored to have the chance to deliver it to me."

"He's a good man," Miss Hattie agreed. As she said this, she angled her head toward Neil, and Christy had to hold back a knowing smile.

"No campaigning at my wedding, I beg of you," Neil said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I've already agreed to work with the man! Can we walk ye up to get some food?"

Miss Hattie's expression was beatific. "Oh, Neil, you've got so many to talk to. No, I'm happy setting here until Dan comes back. He promised to find me the best spot."

The sour look on Neil's face was only there for a split second, but Christy was certain Aunt Hattie had known it would be there.

Fifteen minutes of greeting guests later, Neil said loudly, "Your veil is coming loose. Stand still, I'll see if I can ham-hand it back in place." Once they'd stepped aside, though, he positioned himself behind her, leaning his head down to say, "You can stop looking smug at any time."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she said sweetly.

"You and Hattie are going to be the death of me. I've agreed to sharing knowledge with the man, nothing more!" He sounded less vehement than normal, and as Christy formulated her response, he buried his nose in her hair and breathed in.

She swayed back against him unconsciously, taken aback by how much she liked the simple gesture. Neil set his hands on her upper arms to hold her still, then backed up.

"This will be a long afternoon," he said under his breath.

oOoOoOo

When every guest had been greeted and fed, Christy went up to her former room and changed clothes with Miss Alice's help. Her mentor promised she'd pack Miss Hattie's lovely dress away after it aired out, and then told her of a surprise arrangement: her older students had offered to carry her things from the Mission to Neil's cabin.

"I am every day stunned at the generosity of my neighbors, Miss Alice," Christy said, setting her bouquet down on the dining room table for Ruby Mae to find later. "The truth is, the cityfolk I grew up beside have carelessly wasted more than these people will ever own. I'm not sure I could go back and live like that, even if I'd wanted to."

"That is why God led thee here, Christy."

Christy took a few minutes to visit each room to be sure she hadn't left anything before she stepped out onto the porch. Most of the boys were already out of sight with their burdens, so it was just Neil and Miss Alice waiting for her, he on his horse, and she standing beside.

"Do ye mind riding with me? If not, we can walk together, and I can retrieve my horse another day."

Christy took a second to think about whether the skirt she was wearing had enough fabric for that.

"It's possible she did not expect thee to ask questions, but rather make demands, now that the two of you are wed," Miss Alice said loudly.

"I highly doubt that," he laughed.

"I'm glad I could give you two the chance to poke fun," she grumbled, marching over to frown at both of them. "Skirts are not like trousers, doctor! The amount of loose fabric varies."

"'Neil,'" he corrected, reaching down to help haul her up behind him before she could come up with a retort. They rode off, passing the students with her luggage before he spoke again. "It's not that hard to hear you behind me, but I thought you'd like some silence, after a morning of talking."

"That's thoughtful, thank you."

She was relieved. Neil had paid lip service to the concept of 'muddled thinking' around each other, but this was something else entirely. Pressed up behind him, her arms tightly clasped around his waist, Christy was grateful he couldn't see her reactions to their physical contact. She could feel his muscles move as he controlled the horse! It was a level of intimacy she hadn't imagined was possible.

The closer they got to the house, the more she worried about managing a dignified, self-composed dismount- but when they got there, all those thoughts were wiped away.

The porch was decorated with flowering garlands woven around the various posts and railings. Christy got down in a delighted trance, taken by noticing that the flowers directly mirrored those in her bouquet.

The door opened, and Fairlight stepped out, ushering a group of the older girls, including Zady and Ruby Mae.

"Do you like it, Teacher?" Zady asked in a hushed voice.

She tried to hold in her emotions, but there were already tears on her cheeks when she nodded. "It's so beautiful, thank you, girls! And thank you Fairlight!"

Her friend shook her head proudly. "This was all their doing. All's I did was share which flowers ye'd be holdin'."

Soon, Christy was hugging each student in turn and listening to their stories of how they had 'traipsed around' looking for just the right flowers the day before, 'so's they'd be fresh.' From behind her, she could hear Neil teasing Fairlight about flower allergies, followed by the first shouts of the boys with her luggage.

Nothing that day had gone as she'd expected, but all of it had been emotional, memorable, and exciting, which was more than some women had on their well-planned wedding days.

Christy saw Neil glancing over at her as Fairlight directed the boys to carry her things into the cabin. He lifted his eyebrows in a silent question, and she nodded without knowing exactly what he was asking.

She trusted him enough to know the answer was 'yes.'

oOoOoOo

A half hour later, she and Neil had scarcely spoken, too focused on their delayed lunch. Christy felt like her cheeks were permanently flushed; every time she snuck a look across the table, Neil was already looking at her.

Despite herself, she couldn't help but again draw a contrast between him and David, who always took it upon himself to fill any silence that lasted more than a few minutes. It wasn't that he didn't speak about interesting or important things… but she had always respected her charismatic, sometimes volatile mother's ability to recognize the value in silence. It was in many ways a deliberate, loving choice on behalf of her father, and that thought had often crossed her mind when sitting at a table wishing that David could recognize how much she longed for a quiet meal.

"There's more pie," Neil finally said, as she tried to subtly scrape up every last morsel of crust.

"And here I thought I did a good job hiding my disappointment!" she said ruefully, handing over her empty plate. They'd made two more pies that morning, after their tasting success at dinner the night before.

"I'll admit, I was confused when I saw Dan had left us three slices." He leaned back and grabbed a third napkin-covered plate from the edge of the stove. "Split it with you?"

"All right," she agreed. "He visited for dinner last night at the Mission. We had the same pie." Her unspoken point about the aspiring doctor's thoughtfulness hung in the air between them.

Neil nodded, his teasing expression sobering. "I take back what I said at the reception. Much as I hate to admit it, taking advice from the women in my life seems to be the best choice, when it comes to Scott." He pointed to her with his fork. "Not that I approve of your methods."

Christy used her napkin to hide the breadth of her smile, but it showed in her voice as she said, "I never told you how grateful I am that you chose to take him on despite my awful attempt at bribery."

"I was a jealous bear, I'll admit it." He got up and scraped what little food scraps remained into a basket beside the sink, before holding it up. "In the evening, I like to walk a ways and spread these out for the critters, if I can't use any of the bits for fish bait. Not too close to the house, mind. If the wildlife isn't interested, the scraps can start to smell."

It was a firm subject change, and she nodded, downing her final forkful and bringing her own plate over. "Thank you. There's a lot to learn."

Christy leaned her plate over the basket, about to scrape, when Neil snatched away a piece of hard-burnt crust, before it could fall in.

"That's another household rule," he said, around his crunching.

"You get first right of refusal?" she guessed, to his approving nod. Over the next minutes, the two of them tidied up their plates and set them out to dry. She went outside to admire the porch decorations as he finished up.

"Did you know they were going to do this?" Christy asked, hearing his footsteps behind her.

"Not what it would look like, but Fairlight warned me. She thought it might help make the cabin look different, to welcome you home."

Home, she thought. It wasn't as strange a concept as it might have felt a week ago.

"I've always felt safe here," she said, looking over her shoulder at him. Neil's slow, surprised smile made her feel good to have put it there.

"I'm glad to hear that." He started walking slowly toward her, so Christy turned back to the flowers. "I suppose now's a good time to speak on a few other things."

Christy ran a hidden finger across the ring he'd given her; it was fast becoming a kind of talisman of this unexpected life: new and precious, but also delicate. "All right," she said.

"The way this all came about, it was quick- but no less real. I'd like a true marriage, Christy. I grew up in this house, and I intend to pass it along to my- to our children."

"I expected that," she whispered, still faced away from him. Neil's words were somehow both direct and gentle. Unbidden, the strength of his muscles in motion as she clung to him on the horse came to mind, and a blush started creeping up her neck.

"I have no desire to rush you within reason, but you should know I spent some time arguing against a particular tradition, to that end."

She looked up to watch a bright blue bird dip and soar from one tree to another, grateful it gave her the excuse not to let him see her blush. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

Neil came to stand beside her at the railing. "Like many such things brought over from the Old Country, this one is as much for the glee of the participants as it 'tis for the poor sods who just got married."

He paused, and she just knew he was waiting for her to look over at him. He might be her husband now, but she still wasn't going to let him see how his teasing affected her. Obstinately, Christy turned away from him to carefully examine the garland climbing the roof support beam beside her. "Oh?"

It was a strategic mistake. Neil seemed to remember her physical reaction when he'd smelled her hair, because he came up behind her, brushing a kiss against her hairline before straightening up again to whisper the rest of his story.

"They split up into groups of men and women, stripping the bride and groom into their bedclothes before locking them in a room together."

A cascade of images and emotions roared through her, each more intense than the last. It suddenly felt incredibly foolish to have avoided any and all mental preparation for this aspect of marriage! Thankfully, his tone of voice shifted from secretive to amused.

"I'm not anxious for the Cove to see me in my skivvies. Not to mention, something tells me that Ferrand fellow might just show up and deconstruct the Mission plank by plank out of protest."

"Thank you," she said. The words came out breathless, much to her chagrin.

Neil cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes, well. I'm going to go change out of this suit." He didn't wait for a response, which was good, because Christy was still busy trying to put out multiple mental fires.

She went back inside and looked for the bag carrying the few household items she'd brought, including a tablecloth. As might be expected, the bag was nowhere to be found, meaning the boys had probably carried it upstairs. Putting her hands on her hips, she surveyed her new home, trying to think of where Neil might put a tablecloth, if he owned one. Would he be upset if she went around opening drawers and poking through shelves? Probably.

The kitchen seemed a safe bet, so she went to look in the bureau beside the window, and under the counter.

"Goodness' sake, how does this man find anything?" she exclaimed aloud.

Twenty minutes of determined activity later, Christy felt satisfied with the organizational changes she'd made. If Neil got upset over it, that was too bad, because he undoubtedly would expect her to take over the task of cooking, and she could not live like that.

Thinking of him made her wonder where he was. It had been quite a while since he'd gone upstairs.

"Neil?"

"I'm here," his exasperated voice came, a few moments later. "I've knocked over one of your bags. I was trying to put it all back in, but-"

"Let me help!" she yelled up, lifting her skirts high to run up the steps. Christy skidded to a halt when she saw Neil on his knees in front of her spilled-sideways suitcase. Beside him were multiple half-crumpled piles of shirts and other articles of clothing. It looked like he was holding up one of her shifts trying to figure out how best to fold it, and she reached over and snatched it free, clutching it close, eyes wide. "Why didn't you tell me right away?"

"I thought if I could put it all back-" Neil stopped himself and looked around as if he'd only just now realized what a ridiculous prospect that was. "You'd just got here. I didn't want to make more work for you."

Christy braced herself with a hand on his shoulder and slid to her knees beside him. "You don't have to worry about that. We'll just thank God this didn't happen when one of the boys carried it over the creek. Hand me that pile over there?"

She was so busy with sorting what was already laid out nearby that it took a while to notice he hadn't done as she asked. Christy turned to see what he was doing and found herself making eye contact with a man who looked to be in the middle of an emotional episode. He was staring at her with what could only be described as wounded gratitude.

"Neil?" she whispered gently.

He startled 'awake,' blinking quickly. "Right," he said, turning to grab a pile of her stockings. The reverent way he handled them reminded her that he'd probably taken so long to do such little sorting because he hadn't wanted to ruin anything.

"You could sit on the bed if you-"

"No, I want to help," Neil asserted, scooping up a skirt and thrusting it in her direction. His shirt was unbuttoned just as it had been that fateful Saturday, meaning he'd probably been mid-clothing change when he'd tripped over her suitcase. "I made space in the closet." She followed his gaze to see that a good half of the space was empty. There were even a few good quality hangers waiting there, hinting that he'd maybe folded some of his own things so she could hang hers.

She whispered a heartfelt, "Thank you," feeling that burning sensation in her heart that meant she'd fallen even more in love with the man. Needing to distract herself, Christy adopted a matter-of-fact tone, grabbed the two sides of his unbuttoned shirt, and said, "You didn't finish getting dressed! Here, let me."

Even though she wasn't looking up at him, she could feel Neil's eyes on her. With each button, the movement of his chest as he breathed became more pronounced. There was something really attractive about that, about knowing you had an effect on someone who had a similar effect on you.

"The other time I did this, what I really wanted to do instead was shake some sense into you," Christy said, nearing the last button.

"Go ahead," Neil said. His voice was so deep it sounded like he'd had to pull it out of some far-away chasm to even speak.

She wasn't about to lose the opportunity, so Christy grabbed two handfuls of the loose front of his now-buttoned shirt. "Don't you dare cut yourself off from the people who care about you again!" she ordered, tugging at him- but Neil didn't move an inch! Despite her determination not to look him in the eyes when her heart was so full of dangerously obvious affection, she glared at him. "You did that on purpose!"

His grin was as warm as the rich orange of the late-afternoon sun coming through the window. "Did what?"

Christy huffed. "Got so strong I can't budge you!"

"You can move me, I promise you that," he said.

There was her blush again. It was time to get up and hang some clothes before she ruined her grand plan to let him think he'd persuaded her to fall in love.

"Maybe I should-"

"Wait," Neil said, stopping her with a warm hand on top of hers, just as he had that Saturday. He swallowed hard, then said, "The other time I did this, what I really wanted was to kiss you senseless."

Goosebumps chased the chills she felt at those words, and with them came a powerful sort of bravery. "Go ahead," she whispered.

Neil lifted his hand slowly, sliding it along her neck to bury his fingertips in her hair, all the while holding her gaze. Everywhere he touched her caught fire, and he completed her conflagration when he bent his head to take her lips.

Christy had expected him to be as rough as before, but she was wrong, wrong, wrong. This was tenderness, persuasion, desire. Grabbing at his shirt, she curled her fingers into it in a desperate need to ground herself. She could feel the wild beating of his heart under her hand, mirroring hers. When she arched up to get closer, Neil's grip tightened and he made a low, desperate noise in his throat, stroking his tongue into her mouth in a brief caress.

It was unexpectedly heated, that touch, like he'd dumped a load of logs onto an already raging bonfire. Christy held still in a need to recognize and evaluate just how much joy there was to be felt in a single kiss, but Neil seemed to view this as a sign to stop. He gentled his movements, pulling back.

She wanted to reassure him. She wanted another kiss like that, but asking was entirely too daunting, especially today of all days. There was one thing she could say, though.

"Well, I am certainly senseless," Christy breathed, uncurling her fingers and smoothing out the fabric of his shirt where she'd bunched it up.

"I am too," Neil said, his accent thick and honeyed. "As for my knees, they're not senseless, but they're something," he complained, prompting a shared laugh before they both got up.

Christy took the opportunity to pick up the clothes which were already on her own hangers, carrying them over to make use of the space he'd made for her. With her head hidden by the closet, she let the giddy smile she'd been repressing shine forth. Was that what it was like to kiss your husband? Perhaps the unknown wasn't as fearful as she'd thought.