If Christy's hair wasn't quite the neatest and her clothes weren't put on with the most care that morning, no one noticed once she got to the school. David, Miss Alice, and a few of the men who lived closest were all standing around pointing and talking about a tree that had fallen on the right-hand side of the schoolhouse.
She ran closer, taking in the damage. Not much seemed to be structurally wrong, but the tree itself was large, and at a dangerous angle. David stepped away from the others he'd been conferring with to greet her.
"Thank God none of you were inside when it fell. There aren't enough of us to get it down safely, so I'm glad you're here. We'll need you to keep the children far off, nowhere near the building," he said seriously, nodding at the knot of students who had already arrived. "The whole thing looks to be supported by a branch caught on the point of the roof. If that gives way-"
She interrupted him to run after Sam Houston, whose wooden ball had started to roll toward the tree. "Sam Houston! I've got a job for you," she said brightly. Her heart was still pounding at the idea that he could have gone as far as the ball did; Miss Alice stopped it with her foot quite near the tree in question. Christy put her hand on the boy's shoulder to walk him back to the other children, saying as she went, "Can you run to the doctor's cabin and get him to come help with the tree? He might still be asleep, so knock hard and then wait, all right?"
"Yes'm, right quick!" Sam Houston said, his chest bursting with pride as he raced into the woods to do as she'd asked. He just missed running into Miss Alice, who was bringing over his ball.
"What is he up to?" she asked, amused.
"I sent him to fetch Neil, so he can help with the tree," Christy said, taking the proffered ball but holding it under her arm. "I'm afraid to give this back, but it's not like I can stow it in the schoolhouse."
"Miz Christy, it was my turn!" Ruby Mae cried out, interrupting whatever Miss Alice had been about to say.
Christy had been ready for this. "You're right. The problem is, Dr. MacNeill was up late last night making sure nothing caught fire from the storm, and he's still asleep. If someone comes pounding on the door, he'll think it's an emergency, and I think in that case it's better if it's a boy at the door, don't you?"
Ruby Mae's eyes went wide at the thought of seeing the Cove's doctor in his nightclothes.
"I'm sure she'll call on you for the very next errand," Miss Alice said reassuringly. "Run along, now, and take the ball with you? It can be thy job to keep it safe so none of the other children get too close to the work being done."
"Thank you, I wasn't sure where to put it," Christy said in thanks, once the redheaded student had run off with her new responsibility. "When I came up with the roster to send them on errands, I didn't expect it to be so popular! It started so I could reward some of the students who couldn't bring lunch. I figured they'd accept that as a barter, and then they'd have something for their hungry bellies." She looked back toward the school, trying to think of what she could give Sam Houston. There was no way she wanted the children to catch on to what was essentially charity with extra steps.
"That is a wise endeavor, but I'm surprised thee did not think of sending the boy to someone closer," Miss Alice's voice carried a note of censure.
"Why? I know Neil doesn't have anything scheduled for the morning. Some of the fathers can't be spared from their work without hardship, and if someone gets hurt-"
"Are those reasons to call thy husband, or excuses to bring him here?"
"That's unfair!" Christy burst out. "Just because I can think of multiple-"
A holler-call of danger from near the tree interrupted her and scattered everyone away from the schoolhouse.
"The tree crashed into a few weaker specimens on its journey. It looks like some of them are now giving way," Miss Alice said, tightening her gloves on her hands in preparation to go help. Christy moved back to stand with the children, but she felt uneasy. Their unspoken communication on Sunday had left her feeling comforted, but that was before she'd known it was Margaret's birthday. The reconciliation that had felt so close was once again retreating.
Instinct told Christy that her very presence was linked to a great loss, one magnified by the birthday Margaret didn't live to see. There wasn't anything she could do about it, if so.
Inaction never sat well with her.
She decided to circle her students up to lead them in prayer for the safety of everyone working to clear the obstruction. With their heads bowed and their eyes closed, they would be protected from any fearful sights as that work continued- and they wouldn't worry about the unhappiness in their teacher's expression.
oOoOoOo
"I ducked in to get these."
Christy looked up from her kneeling position to see that David was holding out her planner notebook and a hand chalkboard, complete with the bag of chalk. He looked over his shoulder before stretching out a hand to help her up, backing away a step before proffering the items again.
She kept her expression neutral, but assumed that meant her husband had arrived. "You didn't have to do that, but thank you! I was thinking of walking everyone a ways away so we could get something accomplished today."
"I earned myself a stern talking-to, but we're about to cut the largest part down the middle, and I don't think the children should be watching," David said quietly. With a respectful head dip, he offered her a thin smile and walked swiftly away.
She did as suggested, leading the children closer to the Mission and teaching about the seasons. It was a good time of the year to discuss the reason some trees changed colors in fall, and why others didn't, but something about that transitory lesson resonated with her personal life, as well.
It seemed so odd that the two people she'd been closest to before marrying Neil were the two people who seemed most unhappy with her new life. Was it tradition that led so many of the Cove's denizens to see their marriage as part of the natural course of things, while those that didn't grow up there were far more scandalized? Or was she attributing too much to what was, in essence, an interpersonal web of connections, with David, Margaret, Miss Alice, and Neil all intersecting? There could hardly be a better example of how love and disappointment altered relationships, that was for certain.
Why couldn't falling in love be more simple than this?
oOoOoOo
Almost an hour and multiple hunger pangs passed before their class had another visitor.
"I've come to send thy students to lunch," Miss Alice called out as she approached. She looked a little worse for wear, but seemed pleased. "There's a meal set up for the children and those who worked to clear out the danger. Go on, now!"
Christy got the distinct impression that she was sending the children off so they could talk alone, and was proven right, once the last straggler was out of view.
"I need to admit," Miss Alice said, looking down at the ground with her lips pressed together for a second before meeting Christy's eyes. "I was unfair, regarding Neil. I couldn't bear the thought of so soon seeing how well you both fit into this community and with each other, in a way my daughter never could. Never would." She came over and took Christy's hand. "That is not thy fault."
"Sunday was your daughter's birthdate," Christy said, reinforcing their clasp with her other hand. "Our timing couldn't have been worse. I promise I understand that."
"Neil told you?"
It was a whisper, and oh, so much stood behind it. Perhaps a wealth of knowledge about two people's fractured marriage and the secrets they kept- but that wasn't Christy's responsibility.
"No," she said ruefully. "I went looking for a reason why he seemed distant this past week. The dates were in Aunt Hattie's family Bible."
Alluding to the way Neil had pulled back was not his former mother-in-law's business, but for the first time since the wedding, Christy felt that she was making a joint decision. He would probably never admit to being affected by her loss, not to Miss Alice, but knowing it did in even a small way had a powerful effect.
They'd started walking back toward the schoolhouse in a shared contemplative silence. At about the halfway mark, Miss Alice gave a decisive nod, and looked over at her.
"That was a very special kind of forgiveness, and I treasure it, Christy."
For some reason, this pulled up a lump in her throat. "I know it's not the same as a feud, but knowing that I could hurt you with something I can't change… It's been an eye opening experience," she whispered.
Miss Alice stopped, offering her a penetrating look. "Well, now. Here is where I challenge thee, for I have had experience with that in a way you can prevent, in thy own life."
"Why do I have a feeling you've paused to make me think of all possible options?" she asked, touching her cuff to her eyes to catch the unfallen tears.
"Because thee knows me," Miss Alice chuckled. "Ben Pentland came up with the mail a day or so ago, and he asked after thee. Said he's used to getting a letter for thy parents like clockwork every two weeks."
Her stomach clenched; it had been almost a month since she'd sat down to even try to write that first letter under her new name. "I know. I don't know what to say, and the longer it's been, the less articulate I feel looking at that blank page!"
"Are you not making decisions for thy parents, in neglecting to inform them of this marriage? I think you know I have painful experience in such matters." Miss Alice slowed to a stop, and looked over at her. The sun shone against the fly-away hairs from her bun, making her look all the more fragile, almost breakable, despite the iron Christy knew she was forged from. "Be careful about predictions, Christy, especially when it comes to those you most love. I was reckless in my determination to prove to my daughter that her actions wouldn't drive me away. Just because God saw fit to bless this place does not make those choices wise."
The question 'is your father strong enough to do the same?' hovered, unspoken. She was hardly ever speechless, but these last twenty-four hours had brought many firsts.
"Pray on it, and take pity on your parents' feelings, that's all I ask." With her head held high, Miss Alice walked alone up the last of the path to the schoolhouse, leaving Christy to watch her, chastened.
oOoOoOo
Neil had left not long after Christy was persuaded to take a plate of the provided lunch, as he wanted to be findable if there was another storm-related emergency. All they'd been able to do was nod at each other from many feet apart. Shortly after that, he'd spoken briefly to Miss Alice, but there was no way to know what it had been about.
She was keen to ask him about it when she got home that afternoon, but Dan was there. The two men were hunched over what Christy had taken to calling the Fish Table, and she could hear Neil giving… if not patient instruction, at least coherent instruction.
After going inside to set her things down, she got the laundry basket to haul it outside. It looked like whatever Dan was learning about required concentration, so she resolved herself to the task of hauling water to boil for the washing without asking for help. As it happened, though, the cauldron was quite high and already merrily boiling, and the tools were all laid out for her, along with a chair.
Christy got to work, her heart and hands a bit lighter thanks to Neil's thoughtfulness.
It was a good half hour or more later when Neil walked over to dip out more water, trailed by Dan. The fire had mostly gone out, but the water was still warm.
"-almost have it down, but you must have more to do today," Dan was saying. He took the pot her husband was carrying and filled it halfway.
"It takes practice, and you have more patience than most of my fellow students over the ocean," Neil said, coming over to stand near her. He set his hand on her shoulder and swept his thumb across the back of her neck in a caress not visible by their visitor.
"I'll take whatever compliment you're willing to offer," Dan smiled. He ducked his head in greeting to her, saying, "I was pleased to hear you and the children weren't in the schoolhouse when that tree fell."
"Thank you, I was too. Just the thought of trying to send one of them out to get help while fearing more might fall has me in shivers." Christy stood up and felt along her palms, wincing at their soreness. "Back at it!"
"Could I help you for a spell? My own laundry takes so little time I feel as though I've got strength to spare, if you wouldn't mind," Dan offered.
"He's trying to avoid a particularly tricky jab," Neil said with amusement. "We're practicing with hypodermics and a slab of meat."
"Be nice," Christy said, patting his chest maternally. Inwardly, she thought, at least it isn't fish! "Dan, I'll take you up on that, if only because I'd love to see if your methods vary, given that you grew up elsewhere."
To add amusement to injury, Dan handed Neil the pot before moving to show her his technique. Christy positioned herself carefully so she couldn't see her husband's expression, and after a minute or so, Neil retreated back to the Fish (and Meat) Table.
"I hope I didn't upset him by agreein'?"
"Neil just knows there's no chance he'll get the last word," she reassured him. "I was wondering, since the subject of passed-along messages came up: do you have a formal system to send and receive messages between communities back where you came from?"
The sound of the clothes swishing around increased, as Dan got more used to the feel of things. "In a manner of speaking, yes. It's a long distance between, with not much in the way of safe harbor in between, if you catch my meaning."
They shared a look before Dan focused more on what he was doing. Christy was glad she'd already started her question, because going back to it wouldn't feel like she was avoiding hard truths.
"About the messages, I was just thinking of ways to help Neil. Good health is a struggle in the mountains, and I can't help but wonder whether there's a way to pass along little things, things he wouldn't have to see to want to know about." Warming to her subject, Christy checked on the garments that were already drying in the afternoon sun. "If there was a network, one where someone like the 'town busybody' type could keep notes and pass them along to him, don't you think that would save him time?"
"Meddling already?" Neil boomed from behind, making her jump. The pair of trousers she'd been repinning ended up on her head.
"Neil!"
He came over to rescue her, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. "You didn't speak to anyone else about this, did you?"
"No," she said carefully. Was she somehow trampling on yet another mountain tradition?
"You look like I've just had to put down an animal," he said. "It's nothing so serious; I've just got a delicate balance going, and I can't easily upset it without a good deal of trouble."
"If you'd like to take over, Dr. MacNeill, I can leave the two of you to-"
"No need," Neil interrupted. "Consider this part of your instruction."
"I'll take over," Christy told Dan with an encouraging smile that was as much for herself as for him. Having a task would help her listen, or so she hoped.
Neil pulled his pipe out of his pocket, which was a kind of reassurance in and of itself. As he packed it, he said, "The truth is, you're right. There's a lot more to doctoring than the emergencies. Couple that with the low funds most have to contend with, and you've got the second big dilemma I had to solve when I first came back."
"The first being getting them to trust you again?" Christy asked.
"Aye." He leaned over to pick up a twig, then crouched to get it to light from the embers under the cauldron. "My solution to both was to see what each family was willing to offer and hope that it was something like corn that wouldn't be ready until a few months in the future. Going back to retrieve it gives me the chance to check up on them without the suspicion that I am performing an additional service."
"That's a clever dance, to be sure," Dan said.
"Took many years," Neil said, straightening up to set the glowing twig to the bowl of his pipe. As he pulled air through it to light it, he added, "It's rolling along nicely now, but a messenger system such as you describe would derail it, probably permanently."
"I'm sorry," Christy frowned. "It's a shame most of your patients will never know just how much time and effort you put in to care for them."
"The birth rate's stabilized, and that's worth it even if it does mean more patients," he smiled, drawing in his first full puff.
"D'you think I have any hope of makin' that kind of difference?" Dan asked somberly.
"It'd take twice as long, but yes. Not that I'd have answered the same more than two months ago. Men like Bogg have their own web of influence- that's why I asked you about who you'd spoken to, Christy. You're not the only one in the Cove with an overinflated sense of helpfulness." Their eyes met, and though there wasn't a smile there, there was warmth, and that helped. "The word will get out about how much you've done, Dan. That'll harm as well as hurt, but we take care of our own, and some of us already see you at least halfway there, if not more."
"Aunt Hattie," Christy murmured.
"Just so."
As if on cue, the sound of an approaching horse caught their attention. It was news of another fallen tree, this time on a flimsy, new cabin, with trapped occupants. Christy watched as Dan and Neil conferred about whether he ought to come along, and the consensus was yes, because of the need for additional strength.
"We may need a group just to hold things up long enough to get the injured out," Neil said. He sent the horseman along to recruit more men to that end and disappeared into the stable to ready Charlie.
As always, Christy was touched by Dan's determination to help those who clearly wished he wouldn't. "You're a good man," she told him.
"All we can do is work toward a better world, ma'am," he said, but the set of his jaw told her he was already preparing himself for what he was about to face.
"Please, call me Christy?"
With an amused glance toward the stable, he said, "I'll take that under advisement."
She wanted to say something like, 'If David Grantland can call me Christy, you can,' but a sense of decorum held her back. Instead, she called out to her husband. "Neil, is there something I can get for you? Can I finish up with Charlie?"
He came out rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "Come with me, you can hold the bag steady."
His long strides were hard to keep up with, and she didn't get a chance to stop Dan from picking up with the laundry again, but when she made it to the cabin, Neil was already gathering things. He didn't look like he needed help at all.
"Something wrong?"
"Charlie won't hold both of us, and I'll not ride my horse with him following behind. That'll set him back farther than if I hadn't offered to teach the man in the first place," Neil said quietly. "Can you make two sandwiches? It'll be a late evening."
She lifted up to kiss his cheek. "Absolutely."
"Leave the table and supplies for me to clean up," he called after her as she headed for the kitchen.
"Is there something I could mess up?" Christy responded, pulling free a few cloth napkins to fold their dinner into. His response to the negative was audible from the lab, so she asked, "What if you get back late or it rains?"
Neil came out and set the lock. "You'll have enough to do with the washing anyway," he said, stealing a kiss and her barely-completed sandwiches before jogging out the door.
oOoOoOo
In one way Neil was right: the washing took her far longer than she would have expected. After all, one would think that two people's washing would be less work, but not when one of them was a doctor!
She got everything clean but the towels from the fire. There was a real chance they would be permanently stained, but while she knew some tricks for soot, she didn't know how well those dovetailed with bloodstains.
Miss Alice had always taken care of the bloody linens that resulted from Neil's surgical work in the past, but Christy could not in good conscience ask her about these. She would know what day they'd originated from. On top of that, there was no way on land or firmament that Margaret Henderson MacNeill had ever consulted with someone about doing the washing. With her mentor's confession that morning about Christy's suitability to life in the Cove, it would be hurtful to flaunt that, she decided.
After dipping up cold river water to soak the towels in, she took the basin they'd been soaking in since that day with her to dump far from the cabin. Christy told herself that if she was already going to walk into the woods anyway, it just made sense to drop in on Fairlight. She might know how to handle the blood and soot dilemma.
When Fairlight caught sight of her, she kissed Least'un on his cheek and set him down, directing him to continue sorting dried beans. She wiped her hands off on her apron as she came over to greet Christy, a mischievous look forming on her face.
"That 'jes might be the fastest my advice has ever worked out!"
Christy dearly wished she didn't have a respectable, 'teacherly' reputation to protect in front of Fairlight's children. If she hadn't, she would have upended her clothesbasin and put it right on her head.