Note: This story will contain Mature scenes, something I personally feel is important, both story-wise to depict trust and consent, but also as a way to show that healthy, 'wholesome' relationships still can include joyful intimacy without turning the story tawdry. I don't want to spoil the story by making clear where these scenes will occur, but if you're concerned about them, send me a PM or leave a review and I'll tell you exactly where to stop and start reading, along with a paragraph of the character development you'll have missed. I'm on other sites under the username Darsynia, if you don't have a log in (I registered 'Darsynia' here back in 2008 but the email was lost, and the site didn't allow me to retrieve the username. Given that this one just hit 20 years, I don't mind too much, but it can confuse people searching for 'Darsynia' here!).

Thanks for reading! Your comments, favorites, and follows are the only way I know people are reading, as this story shows 0 hits despite my knowing that isn't the case.

The Rocky Path

Christy got up early for church. Neil barely stirred, and she expected that was deliberate; there were probably many discussions about faith in their future, but not today. It was only when she walked into the church building that she realized there might be a question about where to sit. If she went to her usual place, would Miss Alice's demeanor slice through her week-long mental armor? Yet, how much of a wound would Christy inflict if she didn't sit there?

Rather than going inside, she stood outside and endured the polite (but clearly prying) questions about how she and Neil were settling in. Everpresent was the unspoken expectation: that her influence might finally bring him back to the fold. Surely these people who had known her husband for many years longer than she had didn't think his stubbornness could be broken by seven days of marriage?

She almost preferred the dilemma about where to sit!

In the end, the decision was made for her. As she stood hesitantly in the doorway, Miss Alice took her arm and walked up to the front with her in tow, patting her hand before letting go. Her mentor's expression was carefully polite, but it seemed like every emotion was present in her eyes as they looked at each other. Not now, but soon, Miss Alice seemed to be conveying.

Christy nodded, but any other silent communication was interrupted by David as he began the service. She thought she was paying attention, but after it was over, she realized she'd be hard-pressed to recall what the sermon had been about. Given David's propensity for topical Messages, that was probably lucky, not that he'd see it that way. It meant she ought to dodge him in case her mood wasn't properly attuned to his teaching, so Christy made her way politely toward the treeline and freedom.

"Lookin' forward to hearin' an announcement from ye and the doc sometime soon!" Swannie O'Teale said as Christy sidled past. She was wearing a conspiratorial expression, but Christy was at a loss.

"I'm sorry, what kind of announcement?"

"Youngins, o'course! It'll be lucky ye won't have to send fer the doc, when yer time comes!"

A few of the people standing nearby made comments in support of this, and Christy coughed her way through extricating herself. She managed to walk confidently along the path that led to her new home until she was certain to be out of sight, then stopped and set a hand to her chest. Babies! Already! Already already, given that they hadn't engaged in any activity that could make said babies.

"I'm not picturing that," she said aloud, when the memory stirred of Neil catching her eye as she'd held the McHone's adopted infant. Not picturing anything else either, Christy told herself, heading off thoughts of him walking in on her while changing, or seeing the strong muscles of his arms as he cleaned up on the porch the night before.

She hadn't fully composed herself when she walked up onto their property and saw an oblong blue shape under a blue sheet. Neil was messing about with something underneath the porch not far from it, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Suddenly she didn't want to hide how disconcerted she'd been by Swannie's words. Neil would understand, and maybe she could gauge how he felt about baby MacNeills by his reaction.

"That had better not be a cradle, doctor, or you'll make some of your neighbors very smug!" she said as she approached him.

"Has it started already?" he groaned. "Now there's a tradition you won't find in any history books. I suppose I could have warned you." He stuck his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels a little bit, looking pleased. "No, this is a gift. Had it ma- well, altered. Go on, take a look."

Christy walked the rest of the way over to where he was standing beside his concealed gift. She smiled, eyeing him suspiciously. "What are you up to?"

"Proximity," he teased, lifting his eyebrows. "Of a sort."

The impulse to set her hands on his chest and ask for kisses as her gift instead struck her like a scorched lance. It happened that they were looking right at each other when she thought of this, and Neil's expression sharpened, like he could read her mind. A blush rose up in her cheeks and Christy pulled in a steadying breath before lifting off the sheet to see what was underneath.

Her gift was a sturdy wooden chair, low-slung, with an open-top rectangular box fastened to one side. Along the back was a handmade cushion of deep blue, tied to the slats in multiple places.

"Neil, this is beautiful, but what-"

"If you'll carry my fishing things over to the river, I'll carry this, and then you can stop laying out your school papers on a rock to blow into the water," he said. "I already had the chair, but Bob Allen helped me by adding the box. Mary offered the cushion."

"I'm speechless," she whispered. It was more romantic than a candlelit dinner or a bouquet of flowers. This was a man seeking to make spending time together as comfortable as he could.

"Well worth it, then," Neil teased.

Christy gave him what he clearly wanted: an affectionate glare in his direction. Murmuring a 'thank you,' she stepped close for a hug, drinking in the solid, dear strength of him and relishing how quickly his arms came to envelop her. Neil kissed her temple, and she lifted her head to look up at him, blatantly hoping. The corner of his mouth lifted up, and he started to bend his head just as she lifted up to meet him.

The kiss turned heated immediately, and not just because she could taste a hint of the spice bread he'd had for breakfast. The sound of the stream, the early autumn birdsong, everything faded away in favor of the drumbeat of her racing heart and the joy of sensing that he wanted this as much as she did. Neil half-lifted her up against him, his other hand cupping the back of her head. Each movement of his lips released eddies of pleasure that magnified each other as it went on. If kissing was like this, could she even survive making babies?

Christy angled closer, and he took the invitation, tasting her as before. It was more intense than she remembered, drawing a sound she'd never heard herself make. In response, Neil broke the kiss long enough to pick her up as he'd done to rescue her from the river, stealing the surprise from her lips with deep, longing kisses. The character of the moment had changed into something more powerful, more serious, and she wasn't afraid at all anymore.

They were up the stairs and into the house before she could comprehend it, but then Neil set her down, not by the staircase to the bedroom, but next to his lab.

He placed his palm flat on the doorjamb and looked down at her, breathing heavily. "I've got an experiment going in there." Regret was thick in his voice, and by the thrilling way he was looking at her, she felt almost naked, despite being fully dressed.

"A villain to steal you away?"

"The specter of one," he rasped. Neil looked down at her, blatant desire in his eyes, but he turned his head away and pushed off from the wall.

"How long do you need?" she asked, picturing herself sitting on the bed with a book, her hair down, waiting for him to come in after an annoyed hour of medical tinkering. There was an odd temptation to that, both of them waiting and wanting, separated by necessity.

"All afternoon," was the dismayed reply. Neil paced away from her, then turned and paced half the way back. "You deserve my full attention, and I just can't do that right now. I'm sorry, Christy. Your gratitude is welcome, just… unexpected."

"It's fine," she whispered, face flaming. Gratitude? She was his wife! She'd made a joke about babies within a few minutes of seeing him today!

Christy could feel her body language closing off, jaw clenched, chin raised, every muscle tense, but she refused to cross her arms. She wasn't going to act like a thwarted child, not in a situation like this, not even though she felt as disappointed as she'd ever been in her life. At least his mixed messages had cooled her ardor, but she couldn't shake the strange feeling that he'd planned that experiment of his on purpose.

"How about I take a walk over to Fairlight's? She's invited the two of us to dinner sometime this week. Is there a good day for that?"

Neil nodded, avoiding eye contact. "Thursday, maybe? I'm to visit Dawn Cox and her babies tomorrow evening-"

"Evening?" Christy interrupted, dismayed. Couldn't he have scheduled that while she was at school? Too late, she realized what her interjection could sound like, and rushed to add, "I was just planning out dinner. Please don't think I-"

"No, no," he said. "I'm still getting used to scheduling my life around having you here. That's not anything bad, having- I like you here, I-" Neil let his hands fall uselessly to his sides and let out an embarrassed sigh. "I've made a hash of this. Go for a walk, and think charitably of me, will you?"

For one glorious second, Christy thought about telling him she loved him right then and there. How important would his experiment be then? Given the chance his reaction could sink her further into disappointment or maybe even misery, she kept silent. Instead she nodded, walking over to him with the intention of squeezing his hand once before she left.

When she got close though, he stepped back, spinning around to go over to a cupboard as if that was what he'd meant to be doing. Neil turned back around and 'toasted' her with what he'd picked up, and she nodded, cut to the quick but determined not to show it.

"See you later, good luck with the results," she said as brightly as she could, and left.

Christy waited till she was out of sight of the house and well on her way to the Spencers before she scrubbed her sleeve over her face to clear away the wetness of her tears. She started a series of deep breaths, counting in her head so she could focus on that rote task instead of everything else.

Her inner voice pointed out that the mental trunk she shoved her worries into was becoming quite crowded.

Fairlight was outside when Christy got there, and after one look at her face, her friend was calling on her children to stay close to the house while she was gone on a walk with Teacher.

"Anythin' I should bring with?" Fairlight asked when she walked over to her. Christy shook her head. In a quieter voice she said, "Don't you worry, we'll fix it."

Christy choked out a tearful laugh and nodded. Neither of them said anything of consequence until they'd gotten up on their overlook rock. Already she was reframing what had happened in her mind, telling herself her instincts were juvenile, that Neil was a grown man with responsibilities, that he surely couldn't be deliberately scheduling things to-

An acorn popped off of her shoulder.

"Fairlight!"

"I've got more of 'em in my pockets. Go on, tell me what's wrong. Too hard on yerself? You get an acorn."

Christy's heart was too full to do more than press her lips together and nod. She took in a long, slow breath, and let it out.

"Well, come on, you dragged me out here!"

"Maybe I shouldn't-" Christy broke off when Fairlight's eyebrows shot up and she gave her a look. It was suddenly very easy to understand how it was that the Spencer children were so well-behaved. "I- I think Neil is avoiding… the rest of our wedding night." She almost swallowed those last few words; it felt like a betrayal to mention the subject at all, but she desperately wanted advice.

"Well that ain't it!" Fairlight declared. She almost sounded amused, scrambling for her ammunition.

Stung, Christy, pulled her knees up and hugged her arms around them. "You don't have to laugh! I hope I'm wrong, but-"

Her reaction made Fairlight hang onto the acorns, choosing to strike with words instead.

"Oh, Christy, that man is more gone on you than near anyone I ever known. Give Doc a suit of armor and one of them big swords and he'd go to war for the chance to have you. It's got to be somethin' else." Fairlight scooted closer and put her arm around her shoulder. "Tell me why you think so, an' we'll figure out what's what."

Christy explained about how at first she'd thought it was just a coincidence that their timing was always off, but now she wasn't so sure. Neil had changed his behavior, closing himself off, stepping away, or choosing to simply not be around her. Fairlight looked dubious, but after Christy told her how he'd acted earlier that day, her friend started to chew on a piece of grass, a look of deep thought on her face.

"It was a jar of salt! He backed away from letting me touch him so he could pick up a jar of salt," Christy said, more incredulous than hurt from the sheer absurdity of it. "Before that, when we were kissing, he was going to carry me upstairs, I just know it."

Too late she realized just how much she was revealing. She shot a look over at Fairlight, whose eyebrows were up. Her friend tossed an acorn over the edge of the drop-off.

"If you was anyone else and he was anyone else, I'd be teachin' you how to make him forget, but this don't seem like that kind of thing," Fairlight mused. "Whatever it is, it's enough to make him put a cork in. Doc MacNeill's impulsive, but he's smart as anything. You'll want to figure out what it is first."

Christy felt vindicated, but now she had a new problem. "Being right should feel better than this," she sighed.

"I'm sure it ain't as bad as you think. Sometimes the waitin' makes the havin' real powerful."

She felt a wave of embarrassed excitement, but thankfully, Fairlight had started throwing more of her acorns over the side and didn't seem to notice.

"It'll be family, a death maybe. Anniversary or somesuch- somethin' bad. Doc, he don't take stock with superstition much, but some things'll bite ya whether you believe or not."

"I never thought about that," Christy whispered. "What if it's a patient? How long has he served as the doctor here? How many people has he lost?" She'd never considered that. Neil certainly felt his 'failures' seriously, but what if he took them so badly he couldn't let himself be… happy on the dates where he felt he'd fought God and lost?

Multiple acorns struck her, and Christy threw up her hands in desperate defense.

"All right, all right, you caught me!" she sighed. "I hope I'm wrong."

"You're good for that man. Once he stops bein' a fool about this, you won't ever have t' worry about it again. You'll be back here askin' for a different kind of help!"

Christy blushed. Fairlight's expression made her meaning quite clear, but then her friend sobered, looking her straight in the eye.

"All's I know is, things don't always look what you expect, 'specially with that part of marriage. Jeb and me, we get along real well, an' some of that is knowin' when he's mad at me and tryin' not to take it out on me, or mad at somethin' else and tryin' not to take it out on me." She tossed an acorn up in the air and caught it. "Worry if he takes it out on you, Christy. This ain't that."

oOoOoOo

On the walk back, Fairlight told her about what little she knew of Neil's family. He'd been born late in his parents' lives, an only child. The stigma of that had been slight, but still enough to keep the family to themselves. Christy wondered if the lack of siblings had been for a medical reason, if he'd wanted to become a doctor to figure it out.

It was nearly dinner time when she got back to the cabin to find Neil chopping up various ingredients for another stew. He hadn't started the pot yet, and seemed visibly relieved to hand the task over to her. Everything about their dynamic seemed just as enjoyable and borderline romantic as it had since their wedding day. Surely that wouldn't be the case if something was actually wrong, instead of there being some outside force acting on her husband?

Christy resolved to use his afternoon absence the next day to look through Neil's medical records and see if she could find something that might explain what was going on. Just thinking about prying into his things made her uncomfortable, but something was wrong, and she was going to fix it. Even if her reasons weren't entirely altruistic.

The guilt over those plans hung over her after dinner.

"I'm going to bed," she said abruptly, standing and shutting the math textbook she'd been copying problems over from. "I've got some things to do early at the schoolhouse tomorrow."

"All right," Neil said, looking over to watch her head into the house. She saw his brow furrow slightly when she didn't walk behind him. He'd even set his hand on his shoulder where he'd caught her hand as she passed last time.

Fairlight was right. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted to touch her, too. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn't a lack of desire.

oOoOoOo

It was barely light when Christy left for school the next morning, which was why it surprised her so much to see someone inside. As she approached, what she saw made her slow down and stop.

Miss Alice was kneeling in the center aisle, praying. As Christy watched, she saw her pull a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and bring it around, presumably to wipe her face.

Not wanting to interrupt a private moment, Christy backed away, then turned and headed for the Mission. Maybe she could tell Ruby Mae that her personalized zucchini gifts had outlived their usefulness?

"Christy! Good morning." It was David. His carefully polite tone reminded her of the way he'd respond to someone he didn't want to talk to.

In big ways and small, she'd managed to distance herself from the other 'outsiders' of the Cove, people she'd been closest to until her marriage. Neil, David, Miss Alice, all three of them held themselves apart from the community, and now all three of them were holding some parts of themselves from her.

It wasn't her most charitable observation, and David was perceptive enough to pick up on it.

"Are you all right?"

Christy smiled ruefully. "Mostly. I miss my friendship with you and Miss Alice." Her weariness of the situation had drawn the unvarnished truth from her lips.

"We're still here, you know," he said, picking up the shovel at his feet to anchor it in the ground so he could rest his palm on it, almost like a crutch.

"It's not the same," she whispered. "I've hurt both of you, and that takes time to fix, and in the meantime a part of me feels guilty for being happy."

It seemed that David was still a person she told truths to, even ones she hadn't yet admitted to herself.

"Don't," David refuted. "I've done some soul-searching." He looked up at a flock of birds as they flew overhead in their migratory formation, then over at the still-streaked sunrise to the east. "You could have used my proposal to get out of the marriage, you know. Uncle Bogg, the rest of the Cove, they would have seen that as a contract. It would have turned the time you spent in the cabin back to what it really was: one colleague visiting another. Nothing improper at all."

Christy was stunned. He was right. The thought hadn't occurred to her. Was this what he'd been dwelling on since her wedding?

"David," she started, her heart in her throat.

"You're about to say you didn't think about that. I know." He refocused on her face and smiled, a fragile but genuine one. "I'm not upset, not anymore. If you'd been looking for a way out, you'd have remembered me and said something. That's my point. You wanted him, he wanted you, and this was your chance."

"You deserve someone who wants you," Christy whispered. Someone who wants you more than anyone else, she didn't add- because she had wanted David at one time. A time when there were no other options. A time when the man she was subconsciously falling in love with wasn't available to be wanted.

"At the risk of sounding like a cad, I know. At the risk of sounding worse-" He broke off, looking at the shovel. He sighed, then set his foot on the back lip of the scoop, digging it in further. "I care about you, Christy, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that part of my proposal was about finding the exact kind of wife I wanted. Someone devoted to God, passionate about helping people, who wants to live a life of service. I don't think you understand how rare that is. Maybe finding you here was too easy. You know how much I like a challenge!" He cleared his throat and looked over at her. "I don't want to lose your friendship, if you're willing to continue that."

"I'd love to," she said, hearing the catch in her throat.

David grinned, grabbing up the shovel and toss-twirling it in the air to catch it again. "Good. I've gotta go, but I'm glad I ran into you. Don't be such a stranger, okay?"

It was like his smile floated over and sank into her chest, repairing the little shattered parts of her heart devoted to their friendship. "Okay," she promised.

She watched him walk away for a time, then looked critically at the sky, trying to figure out how much time she had before school. Her conclusion was 'not much,' so Christy turned to walk back the way she came, almost stumbling over an overturned patch of dirt.

It was from David's shovel.

The act of kicking the chunk back over and stomping it down safely felt symbolic, but unfinished. She'd need to metaphorically plant a flower for Miss Alice there if she wanted to truly feel better about the friendships she'd uprooted.

oOoOoOo

Since finding out about Neil's secret laboratory I'd been inside at least a dozen times; I'd never felt like I was trespassing until now. I chose a ledger and tucked a silk scarf in the empty space, but as soon as I opened it, I realized my task was harder than I thought.

There were hundreds of entries, all chronological. Neil had performed all kinds of medical interventions, including appendectomies, amputations, countless births… and scattered among the varied entries was a thick-inked notation I didn't recognize. At times it would cluster, often when there was a disease outbreak.

I'd turned eight pages before I recognized what it stood for. DECwas the notation for 'deceased.'

I felt sick to my stomach. If the rest of the books were similar to this one, Neil had seen more death than my friend Trudy probably ever would, despite her work as a trauma nurse. The answer I was looking for wasn't in his ledgers, but I did find the answer to a question I hadn't let myself ask: how had Neil lost his faith? Everyone I'd ever met in the mountains had the kind of unshakeable belief in God that 'flatlanders' could only aspire to. Now I understood.

He'd spent years battling against disease, hunger, feuding, and death, often alone. As a result he'd isolated himself; a compassionate, skilled, and 'respected' member of a community that found it difficult to trust him- until they needed his skills. The one time he'd opened himself up, his wife had made his life a misery and then faked her own death to get away from him.

I knew he worried that our relationship was somehow only an interlude instead of forever, and I could hardly blame him for that fear. Not when there were ledgers full of other lives torn apart by one thing or another.

Now it was even more important to me that I figure out why he was holding back. Not just because I too wanted a 'true marriage,' but because I'd just seen the clear evidence of how precious and sometimes short life could be.

Christy Huddleston MacNeill,
Journals and recollections

oOoOoOo

It was impossible not to think about the fragility of life without being reminded of Aunt Hattie, and after speaking to Fairlight the day before about Neil's family, Christy decided she should make a visit. Barring gathering up the courage to speak to Miss Alice about her former son-in-law, this was her last chance to figure Neil out without asking him directly.

Luckily (or unluckily) she still had two of Ruby Mae's 'wedding zucchini' from the most recent delivery to bring with her. As she walked there, Christy gathered up the most fragrant of the blooms she passed, so she could offer those as well.

"Is that you, Christy?"

"It is," she said, walking with confident, audible footsteps to stand beside the older woman's rocking chair. "I've brought you some flowers, why don't I hand them to you and you can tell me where to find something to put them in?"

"That's thoughtful of you! Over there on the windasill should be a glass jar of some sort. Water's low, you might have to go out for some."

Christy found the jar exactly as described. "Would you like me to fill you up?"

"Sweet of you to offer, but Birds-Eye comes by to fill it tonight, if I'm rememberin' right."

She'd forgotten that Birds-Eye had a great affection for Hattie.

"Well, I brought you some zucchini from the Mission. Ruby Mae helpfully carved a little heart into them, so they'll need to be eaten sooner than later."

Hattie smiled, turning her body to face her. "Somethin' tells me you're not just here to offload zucchini. What's troublin' you? All's well with Neil, I hope?"

"Oh, definitely," Christy said quickly, immediately worrying that she'd said it too quickly. "I was actually talking with Fairlight the other day, and she told me a little bit about what she remembers of his family. I was wondering if you had a family Bible that might have some of the MacNeill records in it?"

"Don't want to ask Neil if he's got one, I imagine!" Hattie chuckled. "I do wish I could see what's on your face right about now, Christy. C'mon here and help walk me upstairs, and we'll take a look."

Just like every other part of her house, Miss Hattie's bedroom was cheerfully neat, and right beside the bed was a behemoth of a Bible.

"How is this not too heavy for you?" Christy exclaimed.

Hattie chuckled, having settled into the rocking chair over by the window without her help. Christy got the distinct impression that the escort upstairs was more about her own peace of mind than her host's need for guidance.

"Go on and open it!"

Christy lifted the cover and sucked in an appreciative breath. This was a work of art, the kind of hand-crafted print and paper craft that she'd rarely seen even in Asheville.

"You'll want three pages in the front, if you're looking for Neil."

She shut the book. "Miss Hattie, I need to be honest with you. I think something's troubling my husband, and I came here as a last resort to see if there was something I could see in here- a loss in the family, something. It feels deceptive not to tell you," Christy said apologetically, the words tumbling over each other to escape the pervasive embarrassment that thickened her throat.

"Oh, Christy- you think you're using me for that book? Think I wouldn't show ye if you told me the truth?"

Christy smoothed her hand across the embossed cover. "Something like that." A hand on her shoulder startled her; Hattie had made her way over, and was sitting on the other side of the narrow bed.

In a gentle voice that reminded Christy that this woman was still a mother despite the loss of her children, Hattie said, "Marriages are hard work even when you know they're comin.' You're just tryin' to keep up, but that's the mark of a good woman. Don't let yer mind tell you different." She patted the bed. "Set it on down, facing you, 'course."

"Thank you," Christy whispered, doing as she was asked.

This time when she opened the stately Bible, she felt a sense of discovery instead of disrespect. Turning to the page Neil's aunt had indicated, she saw the filigreed page with the heading FAMILY RECORD with its columns for name, date of birth, date of marriage, and date of death. It seemed that the MacNeills and their kin dating far back tended to plan well for these entries, as each family member had a space beneath them for their spouse. Christy was almost able to visualize the slow fill-out of family members as she looked over the names. Just as Fairlight had indicated, Neil was the first-born and seeming only child of his parents. His line showed his birthday (a date she resolved to remember, as he'd managed to neatly dodge any notice of it for the two years she'd known him)- and then her heart spasmed in her chest.

As she'd expected, her own name and the date of their recent marriage was missing from the book, but Margaret's name was listed in the 'marriage' line.

Their wedding anniversary had been Friday, the day of the fire.

"Your breathin's changed."

"Just a minute," Christy gasped, blinking at the other date listed by Margaret's name: her birthday.

It was just the day before, on Sunday.