Long Rest
It took well into the early evening to put her things away, but Neil seemed to really appreciate that she didn't want to put off that task.
When they were finished, he looked at his watch. "We should have eaten two hours ago, but I'm not hungry. You?" She shook her head. "Tea?"
"That would be nice. We could sit out on the porch and watch the fireflies?"
He agreed, waving her out ahead of him. Christy wondered if he kept his tea and sugar somewhere he didn't want her to tease him for, given the reaction he'd had to her 'organizing' some of the kitchen space.
It was almost dark by the time he came out onto the lamp-lit porch with a book under his arm and a small tray with tea already poured into two cups. Neil held up the book and asked if she minded if he spent some of the time reading, and she shook her head.
Christy had fond memories of her parents' shared silence in the sitting room, her father reading, and her mother planning out some kind of event, complete with diagrams, guests lists, and decoration plans. Neil studying a medical text while she created lesson plans was near enough to that tableau.
After just under an hour Christy noticed that Neil had stopped yawning so often and had started to hunker down in his chair like he wanted to doze off. It looked very uncomfortable, but the strangest part was that she'd seen him peeking at her at least twice.
If it weren't for it being their wedding night, she might have spoken up sooner, but her hand was forced when his book fell off of his lap with a loud thump, startling him awake.
"What time do you usually go to bed?" she asked in a carefully neutral voice.
Neil winced. "I'd thought I'd doze off here and let you head up on your own." He scratched the back of his ear and frowned. "That's not something you'd do."
"Not my first night here, no." Christy thought 'disconcerted' looked quite endearing on him.
"Why don't you head to the outhouse first? I'll get changed and wait on the porch until you're ready for me to come up." She must have looked dubious, because he added, "We'll get it all worked out soon enough. One bit of luck is you'll be well used to me by the time you need to deal with my icy cold feet!"
Neil headed into the house with the teacups and his book before she had a chance to react to that.
oOoOoOo
Christy was dressed for bed and brushing out her hair in the bedroom when she heard hoofbeats. Seconds later there was shouting outside, and she went to go look.
Miss Alice was already in the doorway with her traveling hat on. "I'm sorry, Christy."
"Just past three weeks, I'd have to say," Neil's lips were moving like he was calculating something, so Christy looked to Miss Alice, alarm buzzing through her veins.
"Dawn Cox's twins are coming sooner than expected. Paul rode for help, and the Mission's on the way here. I sent him back and came for Neil."
"I've got to go. It's almost full-term for twins, but still early," Neil said. He looked sick, maybe even paralyzed with indecision, despite what he'd just said.
Before Christy could reassure him that she understood, Miss Alice spoke in a voice of command, to snap him out of it. "Go on and change, I'll gather what you need so we can get moving." He nodded, handing her his satchel before taking the stairs two at a time. Without another word, Miss Alice pulled the lock off of the lab door and went inside.
The speed of developing events was making her head spin. Christy followed her, feeling distinctly underdressed and vulnerable.
"Can I help?" she offered.
Miss Alice's tone was harsh. "Yes. If you are unhappy about this night's events, Mrs. MacNeill, you can help by keeping it to yourself."
Christy was speechless. Miss Alice had sometimes been direct, even confrontational, but never cruel- but in a flash of realization helped by the use of Christy's new name, the answer came: Margaret. Neil said she'd hated being a doctor's wife and eventually come to despise the patients that took him away from her so often.
After everything she'd accomplished here in Cutter Gap, Miss Alice was still comparing her to Margaret!
Righteous anger boiled in her chest, but Christy forced herself to turn and run for the stairs despite the hot tears in her eyes. If Miss Alice was this upset, Neil was certain to be miserable.
When she got up there, he was seated on the bed, pulling on his socks. His face fell when he saw her in the doorway. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she said, breathless more from her emotional upheaval than the race up the stairs. "This is the first night of many, for those twins as well as for us. It doesn't have to be symbolic."
Neil stood up, his suspenders hanging free at his hips. "You're not angry?" She shook her head in answer, but his voice was thick with dread as he said, "Christy, you've been crying."
There wasn't a way to explain that didn't make everything worse. "I'm not angry," she said, coming over to help him slide up his suspender straps. "I'm pleased you can help." Before she lost her nerve, Christy hooked her fingers in his suspenders and lifted up to kiss him unprompted for the first time.
She'd meant it to be brief, but Neil crushed her to his chest like his grip was all that stopped the two of them from falling off a cliff. His desperation had her straining closer, hand to his cheek, pouring all her fledgeling adoration into the embrace. She needed him to feel loved, even if she wasn't brave enough to say it, yet.
Neil broke the kiss and immediately pressed his lips to her forehead. "Stay here tonight, please? Don't go back to the Mission," he whispered urgently.
"Of course!" she managed, but he'd barely stayed to hear her response. Neil's heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs and out the door, shutting it with a decisive thump.
Christy took a step back and lost her balance, landing half-seated on the bed. Her lips still buzzed from that kiss. Outside, the sound of two horses told her that he'd managed to saddle up without any difficulty. The night's events had her dizzy, going from feeling self-conscious about her first night sharing a bed to Neil being called away by a seemingly angry Miss Alice. Her mentor's grief was no doubt very fresh, but after everything Christy had learned about Margaret, it really hurt to be compared to her, especially unjustly.
And then to come upstairs crying? When Neil's first wife had turned hateful over emergencies just like this one? Guilt burned a ragged hole in her chest.
Was there something she could do to show him that she understood how important he was to the community, that she didn't resent that his job meant long hours away sometimes? Something that would show Miss Alice she was wrong in her assumptions, as well?
She was suddenly very tired, bone weary, in fact. "First things first," she said, dragging herself to her feet. This wasn't just his house, it was hers too now, and there were multiple lamps lit throughout the cabin. All of them needed to be safely extinguished before she could sleep.
Alone.
An insidious little tendril of relief paired with the guilt as she made the house safe and secure for the night. Christy expected she'd struggle to sleep thanks to concern for Neil and his three precious patients, but would she have fared any better tonight, had nothing eventful happened at all? She'd thought being around Neil more would make it easier to deal with how painfully aware of him she was, not just of her own feelings, but his actual physical presence. It had been a naive assumption, to be sure.
Turning the lamp down to its lowest setting and climbing into bed didn't do anything to calm her racing thoughts. There hadn't been much time to dwell on so many of the day's events, like the children's escort, exchanging vows, and the well-wishes from even the respected Cove leaders who'd forced them into marriage in the first place.
"Go to sleep, Christy!" she said aloud. Instead of listening to herself, she rolled onto her side and began to pray for Dawn Cox, Paul Cox, their tiny babies, and the two dedicated people who'd raced their horses across a mountain on a special night to make sure they were safe.
oOoOoOo
Movement on the bed woke her up many hours later. Christy opened her eyes to see Neil sitting on the side of the bed putting on a nightshirt, illuminated by an oil lamp on low. He looked over his shoulder at her.
"Didn't mean to wake you. Still an hour or so before sunrise."
"The babies? That was really quick, wasn't it?"
He stood, folding back his side of the blanket. "She'd labored for a while before realizing. They came fast once I got there. One was quite small, I'll need to go back at least twice this week." Neil leaned over to turn the flame back down, but Christy pushed up in bed to look at him.
"You're still dressed!"
"I'm too tired to change, and I usually don't wear much to sleep anyway. It's fine for tonight." This he said with at least two punctuating yawns.
"Oh. Good night, then." Christy rolled over to hide her sleep-fuzzed embarrassment, making sure that she didn't take too much of the blanket with her. Neil climbed into bed, and judging by the drape of the blanket between them and the dip of the mattress, he was on his back, not far away. Feeling him nearby, sensing his body heat… was actually quite pleasant. Once the two of them were more used to each other, would she fall asleep with his arm around her, resting her head against his chest?
That potent thought woke her the rest of the way.
Christy lay still, trying to regulate her breathing as her heart rate increased. She'd dreamed before of moments between them, waking with her stomach full of twisting guilt, since he was a married man. Those had been heartfelt talks, a walk in the sunshine, Neil praising her for something she'd done- all relatively innocent in comparison to this. Yet, sharing a bed with her husband was entirely proper, healthy even. The reversal was enough to make a person's head spin.
"Breathe, Christy. I'm no threat to you like this," Neil murmured.
"That's not it, I'm- That's not it," she whispered back.
"What is it, then?"
The truth hovered, and they were both so tired. She decided to respond using their established shorthand. "Proximity."
Neil grunted in surprise and then shifted over so his shoulder was almost brushing against her back. Far from making it harder to relax, his warmth sent little shivers of happiness through her that melted into contentment, lulling her to sleep.
oOoOoOo
When she woke next it was thanks to the bright indirect sunlight from the window. She'd slept in.
Christy threw herself out of bed, spluttering her hair out of her face as she rushed over to the dresser to grab something to wear.
"Christy," Neil rumbled from the bed. He had his arm draped over his eyes.
"I'm late for school!"
"You're not."
"No, I am! Miss Alice was supposed to take my place, but she was with you." She supposed she could dress on the other side of the closet door, or at the top of the stairs with the bedroom door closed. When she turned around with a handful of underthings, meaning to race over to the closet and do just that, she ran right into Neil.
"Grantland got back yesterday evening, he's teaching your students today," he said, tugging the clothes from her hands to set them on top of the dresser. "Back to bed," he said, guiding her back with an arm around her shoulders.
Sleepy Neil was a charming mix of impatience and determination.
"But David has no idea where the lesson plans are!"
"He'll probably spend the whole day sermonizing at them," he said once they got over to the bed. Neil then yawned so hard he stumbled sideways before shuffling around to the other side.
Christy sat, her sense of purpose deflated. "Is there anything you were supposed to do this morning that I can do instead? Dropping by a patient's house, or picking up supplies?"
"No one will expect us for days," he told her, rubbing at his eye with a knuckle. "We're meant to spend them enjoying each other, which right now should mean you, sleeping next to me, in silence." There was a daring sort of tease to his voice that sent a thrill through her. How was she meant to sleep after he said something like that?
"I'm wide awake. How about I go downstairs and-"
"Don't," Neil blurted. He took in a breath to say something, then chuckled. "Not sure how well I'd sleep knowing you were down there rearranging everything."
"Meaning you'd sleep better if I stayed up here?" Christy guessed.
His expression sobered, and he rolled onto his back. "I keep expecting to wake up and find all of this was a dream."
If she were braver, she would have told him about her dreams of him, but instead, she said, "How about I go get a book to read, so I can sit up beside you, while you sleep? I can pull the curtains shut."
His nod was relieved, and Christy got up, thinking hard to remember where she'd packed her book. It wasn't with the others, since she'd been reading it a little each night. A glance over at her husband told her he was still ruminating. She told herself that Neil had found out his horrid wife had died and then he'd married someone else, all within two weeks. That probably did something to a man's psyche.
"Ask me what I'm reading," Christy said, crouching down to rummage through the front pocket of one suitcase.
"What?"
"It's part of distracting you while I look for my book," she told him. Standing, she put her hands on her hips. Was it downstairs?
"Fine," Neil said, his voice still sleepy, but more like his confident self. "What are you reading?"
"Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. It's a story about four sisters, all very different, and how each of them handle the process of growing up. I loved it when I was younger, and now I'm rereading it to pick out parts to share with the children." As she spoke, she found the book, drew the curtain, then came back to briskly set things up to sit comfortably beside him.
"You're an excellent teacher, Christy."
Praise from him really was worth a hundred kind words from anyone else.
"Thank you! Go ahead and sleep now, if you can." She reached out to brush back some of his hair, and as she did so, Neil let out a long breath.
Christy opened the book, going back to a part she remembered vividly, so she could focus on that rather than his movements as he made himself comfortable. Soon he was asleep, and she relaxed too, finding the cadence of his breathing calming.
A few chapters later, her hand was starting to hurt in that position, but instead of propping her legs up, she set the book down in her lap for a while. The slight movement didn't disturb Neil, which was lucky given how close to her he'd drifted. His brows were half-furrowed even in his sleep, and he had a fist-full of the quilt at her hip, large enough that she suspected some of her nightgown was caught up, too.
She hoped he wasn't dreaming about her tears from the night before. There was no telling what his reaction would be if she explained what had really prompted them, whether that ranged from fury at Miss Alice (and a furtherance of Margaret's posthumous plans of division) to maybe admitting he had the same thoughts.
That option didn't bear contemplating.
Telling herself that Margaret and Miss Alice's relationship was so fractured that the cracks extended beyond the grave didn't soothe as much as it ought to have. Not when she was a living, breathing person who loved her work in the Cove, who had embraced the children and her role as their teacher…
Christy shoved those thoughts away. There wasn't any reason to dwell on them, at least not right now. Her relationship with her own mother was nothing like that, though the two of them had their differences, especially once she'd decided to come to the Mission. In some ways, the distance between them had improved their relationship, allowing hurt feelings to soothe and tempers to calm in between letters. She was overdue to send another one, and wasn't sure how much to include, but a phone call was even more stressful to imagine. The technology was incredibly useful for emergencies, but she didn't want to call and tell her mother she was married and miss any facial expressions that might signal more than the vocal response carried over the wires.
That train of thought was too stressful to think about with an exhausted Neil trying to catch up on sleep beside her. If only there was a way she could prove to him that she understood his life as a doctor, just as her mother had proved she understood Christy's life in Cutter Gap. Julia Huddleston had figured out the exact right way to communicate with Swannie-
Christy caught her breath. Communication. Neil had made an offhand remark months back about wishing there were more of him, so he could focus on his research and the most important visits. Good medical care was as much about keeping an eye on a person's recovery and asking them how things were going as it was being available to deliver babies and treat traumatic injuries. How much of his time did he spend traveling to and fro just to check up on people who were almost always doing well?
If there was someone in each community that could visit those recovering patients and report back to Neil, wouldn't that ease his workload?
She frowned. That would probably involve training, and she knew he'd been hesitant to offer that to Dan. Not all his reticence came from the possible stigma (and thus renewed mistrust from his patients) of associating with a colored man, but also the time that he'd have to invest.
"You stopped turning pages," Neil said, his voice husky from sleep.
"I was thinking."
"Sorry to ruin it for ye, then," he teased, rolling onto his back to stretch before moving the pillow to sit up against the headboard like she was. Once he was settled, Neil glanced over, looking as content as she'd ever seen him. It made her feel like she'd done something right in choosing to stay upstairs. Christy smiled back at him, but her heart was so full she had to distract herself by looking for her bookmark.
"What was on your mind, just now?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I've seen that look before, when you were talking to me. It was like your conscience had pricked you about something." He was exactly right, but she didn't know Neil had even noticed those moments where her inner voice had yelled at her to back off and look away.
Christy hesitated, then said, "You were married."
Neil sat silent for a few seconds as the implications set in. Instead of responding with words, he reached between them to find her hand, sliding his fingers along her palm and between her fingers in a slow, warm caress. Christy closed her eyes, eager to let herself feel. He lifted her hand to his lips, shifting to sit closer as he kissed first the back of her hand, then her pulse point. Each brush of his lips singed her skin, sending heat through her veins to the very core of her, somehow- but when he pressed a kiss to her palm, she gasped.
"Isn't that amazing? Like a direct pathway to the most sensitive places," he whispered. Just hearing Neil refer to those sensations had the same effect he was describing.
She didn't know what to say, but didn't want that to go unanswered, so she made a little sound of contentment and kissed his shoulder. He turned his head and looked at her lips, before meeting her eyes.
"Christy, I-" Neil broke off at the sudden growling of his stomach.
The complete reversal of the romantic moment mixed with the utter horror in his expression destroyed her composure. Christy covered her face with both hands and fell sideways onto his lap, giggling almost as hard as Neil's choked guffaws.
They held each other and just laughed for a while, and finally Neil said, "It's a wonder you didn't kick me out of bed entirely!" He dropped an amused kiss on her hair and got up, leaving her laying on her back on the bed, arms across her stomach, worn out from laughing.
"If you try to turn hunger growls into some sort of recurring joke, I will get ahold of the hottest peppers Birds-Eye Taylor has ever grown in that travesty of a garden, and I'll put them in every single meal!" she threatened.
"Who do you think browbeat him into planting the things?"
"Oh no!" she gasped out before the giggles caught up with her again. This time, Christy curled up into the fetal position and groan-laughed through the muscle aches.
"Well, that gave me enough time to get dressed, at least," Neil said, when she finally stopped. "D'you want me to see what I can get started? It's almost lunch."
"Yes, thank you. I'm not sure I can walk!"
Neil started for the stairs, and she dragged herself out of bed, twisting her mass of tangled hair in preparation to pull it back.
"Wait!"
She jumped in surprise. "What?"
"Keep your hair down?" He was wearing a boyish sort of hopeful face that really communicated how much he wanted her to agree.
"All right," she said, shy again.
oOoOoOo
Christy chose a cornflower blue dress, and only pulled back enough of her hair that she could cook without issue. She made her way down the stairs smiling; she could smell something cooking already, and something told her Neil was taking the interruption of their moment in bed quite personally. That was a direct compliment to her, not that her own disappointment wasn't insubstantial.
Neil was indeed sitting by the fire with a pair of tongs, tending to some sausage. On the table were a few eggs and a pair of plates with accompanying utensils, making her wonder whether his efficiency this morning was a function of habit or thwarted desire.
Also on the table were four medium-sized zucchini with little hearts carved into them.
"I thought I'd heard all of the myths and legends to be had in these mountains, but a fairy that leaves Wedding Zucchini is a new one for me," Neil said, when he saw her.
"That fairy happens to be red-haired, enthusiastic, and not quite two decades old."
Neil's "Ah!" spoke volumes.
She walked over and picked one up. "I'd feel more like this was a gift if her scratched symbols didn't mean we have to eat all of them soon. Or if I didn't know for a fact they're drowning in zucchini at the Mission!"
"Might be nice fried up in the grease left from the sausage?" he suggested. "Want me to save the eggs for later?"
"That takes care of one, what about the others?" Christy laughed, retrieving the knife to start slicing.
The rest of their impromptu honeymoon went similarly well, with the two of them enjoying each other's company and learning how to live together. She spent time each afternoon sitting on a rock beside the river doing grading or school prep work while Neil fished, and they visited a few of their neighbors briefly, delighting her students with a gift of heart-etched zucchini.
Every night, they took turns changing for bed, then settled in on their respective sides awkwardly, only to release the tension with a comment or conversation that left Christy with an indulgent smile on her lips.
Neil always gravitated toward her in his sleep, solving the long-standing issue she had of waking up cold and reluctant to leave the bed for a warmer solution.
On the day she was to resume her teaching duties, Christy woke early to find Neil's hand on her hip and his head resting on the edge of her pillow. She felt warm and wanted, giving her enough courage to roll over to face him. When he replaced his hand on her hip again, it felt like approval.
"Not late this time," he smiled.
She was really feeling his proximity this morning. It wouldn't take much movement on her part to steal a kiss. "Do you want me to make something to eat before I go?"
"No need. We've got that dried rhubarb bread Hattie gave us yesterday, remember?"
She could barely remember anything right now. Was this why people were given time to themselves after their wedding? To help adjust to the intoxication of being so very close to the person you loved?
"Christy?"
"I'm sorry, I'm distracted this morning," she said, turning her face half into her pillow in embarrassment. Neil slid his hand up from her hip to her arm, then gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, once she'd stopped hiding. It felt so good she wanted to return the favor, so Christy lifted her hand, meaning to run her fingertips over the tangle of his curls- but Neil caught it, pressing a kiss on her wrist.
"Best get moving!" he said, rolling away from her to get up. He was almost dressed by the time she'd untangled herself from the blanket and got her robe on, and when she made her way downstairs after putting on her own clothes, Christy found an empty house and a plate with a generous slice of the rhubarb bread waiting for her.
It felt thoughtful, but it also felt a little bit like avoidance. As she walked to the schoolhouse, though, Christy thought back on the last few mornings, how indulgent they'd felt. She and Neil had slept in, had spoken at length while cooking (or almost burning) their breakfast. Hadn't she been frantic that first morning, thinking she'd slept in? Her husband just didn't want to make her late, that was all.
The word 'husband' still sent a forbidden sort of thrill through her, a feeling that persisted right up until she was within sight of the schoolhouse.
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