Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice (27 page)

“Poverty. Violence. Sickness. Danger,” Lance continued. “And no family and few friends for you to lean on in times of trouble.”

Christy looked toward the skyline and frowned. Yes, she thought, there was violence and sickness and danger in those beautiful mountains. “I'm needed there,” she said simply.

“I admire your feelings,” Lance said. “But have you ever considered how your parents must feel? I know that they worry about you all the time.”

Christy shifted uncomfortably. She had been expecting a simple, friendly ride. She'd imagined they would talk of old friends and good times. The conversation was taking a decidedly serious turn.

“I'm sorry if they worry,” Christy said. “I try never to tell them anything in my letters that will upset them.”

“Yes, but everyone knows what the mountain men are like,” Lance said. “Just last week there was a trial of a moonshiner who had killed a revenue agent. It was in all the newspapers. The crime took place very near to Cutter Gap, I understand.”

Christy nodded. “I know about it. It was actually ten miles from Cutter Gap.”

“But there are blood feuds in the hills.”

Christy could not deny the truth. Sometimes the mountain men settled their differences with guns. The fights were often over long-ago insults between clans. Even in Cutter Gap, some families barely tolerated each other—families who had drawn blood in the past.

“The people are very poor,” she said. “They've been forgotten by time and civilization, Lance. Faith and morality often weaken in the face of despair.” She smiled wryly. “And evil is not entirely unknown here in Asheville.”

“No, it isn't.” Lance laughed. Then, more seriously, he said, “But still,
here
you would have your family, Christy.”

“But
there
I have my mission.”

“There are poor children here, too,” Lance said. “Look around you.”

Without noticing, Christy had followed Lance into one of the poorer sections of town. It was a neighborhood of tarpaper shacks and rickety lean-tos, in the shadow of one of the huge textile mills along the riverfront.

Ever since the railroad had come to Asheville in 1880, Asheville had grown rapidly. Mills and factories had been built. They had provided jobs to mountain people who came down from the hills. But often the jobs paid too little to allow a man to feed or house his family adequately.

“You see, there's poverty here, too,” Lance said.

“Yes,” Christy admitted. “And so near to our own homes.” Here, too, she saw children without shoes, playing in the dirt. And here, too, defeated-looking men lounged in dark doorways, drinking from bottles of illegal whiskey.

“My father and I, and some of the other businessmen in town, are concerned for these folk,” Lance said. “We pay our own workers a fair, living wage. But I'm sorry to say that many businesses do not. A lot of these folks are in terrible shape.”

He reined in his horse and looked Christy in the eye. “Christy, these people need help just as much as the people in the mountains. You can see that.”

“Of course I can,” she said softly.

“There's a group of us,” Lance said. “My father and the others. We've begun meeting at the church on Wednesday nights. As you know, Reverend Grantland will be speaking to us tomorrow night. Originally, we'd planned to help with your mission.”

“We would gladly accept any help offered,” Christy said.

Lance looked uncomfortable. “Well, the fact is, we've decided on something different.” He pointed to a brand-new building. It was bare wood, not yet painted. “When that is done, it will be the start of our own mission. A mission to our own poor, right here in Asheville. That will be our school.”

Christy was stunned—stunned and disappointed. If her church didn't help the Cutter Gap mission, there would be no new school-books, no chalk, no pencils. Perhaps no more mission at all. But she knew she shouldn't be upset. If the church used its money to build this new mission, it would be wonderful for the needy people here.

Still, it was hard not to be heartsick at the possibility that her own mission might soon fail.

“Christy, we would like you to come with Reverend Grantland. We'd like you to tell us a little about your school.”

“Me, give a speech?” Christy asked. The very thought made her throat clutch up. “What would I say?”

“Just tell us what you've done in Cutter Gap. Tell us what you've learned.”

“I don't know what I've learned,” Christy said helplessly. “Most days, I don't think I've learned anything. Except to watch out when frightened hogs are running loose,” she added with a laugh.

“Then tell us about the pigs,” Lance said. He leaned over and put his hand on Christy's arm. “Christy, there are important missions to be done everywhere. Sometimes far away. Sometimes very close to home. Close to those who . . . who
care
for you.”

Christy met his gaze and she felt a familiar blush rising up her neck.

Then her eyes went wide. “Oh, no! Bessie! What time is it?”

They rode swiftly back to the stable, and Christy went straight to the hospital without taking time to change out of her riding clothes.

But when she arrived she saw Neil leaving the hospital alone.

“Too late,” the doctor said flatly. “She woke up and asked for you. But now she's asleep again, and I won't have her disturbed. She needs her rest.”

“I hurried back . . .” Christy began lamely.

“Yes, I can see that.”

His sarcasm hurt. It hurt all the more because he was right. She had let Bessie down. The very reason she had come to Asheville was to take care of Bessie. Now she had failed.

“I'll apologize to her,” Christy said. “I . . . I had other things on my mind. I became distracted.”

“Yes, I know it can be very distracting, riding around town, nodding to all the fine gentlemen and ladies. Parading around in your fancy riding habit with that young squirt.”

“Neil, I am desperately sorry that I wasn't there for Bessie when she opened her eyes. I feel terrible about it. But I wasn't parading anywhere. And I really think you would do us both a favor to keep your feelings of jealousy separate from your concern for Bessie.”

“Jealousy?” the doctor said, a little too loudly. “Me, jealous of that . . . that . . . fop? Hah!”

“If it isn't jealousy, Doctor, then how else do you explain your contempt for a man you know nothing about? You're not usually so close-minded.” She gave him a cold smile. “On the contrary, you're usually the very soul of tolerance.”

The doctor sputtered, as though he might have something to say in reply, but in the end he merely grumbled, “Don't go disturbing my patient.”

“Of course I won't disturb your patient. But I will go inside and wait quietly by her bed, so that when she does awaken again, I'll be there.”

The doctor had no reply. He slammed his hat on his head and stormed off, muttering, “Jealous! Of that over-moneyed puppy?”

Christy headed into the hospital. She found Bessie, still asleep, with Ruby Mae at her side.

Ruby Mae popped up out of her chair as soon as Christy appeared. “Miz Christy! How did your ride go with Mr. Lance?”

“It went fine, Ruby Mae,” Christy said. “How is Bessie?”

“Oh, she's doin' good. What happened with you and Mr. Lance? Did he up and propose to you?”

“Ruby Mae, where on earth did you ever get such an idea?” Christy demanded.

Ruby Mae nodded wisely. “Oh, I seen the way he looked at you at the jollification last night.”

“Did he try and kiss you?” a weak voice asked.

Both Christy and Ruby Mae spun around in surprise. It was Bessie, wide awake.

“Bessie! You're supposed to be asleep,” Christy cried.

“I had to wake up to hear about you and this Lance feller, Miz Christy. Ruby Mae says he ain't quite as pretty as the preacher, and ain't quite as smart as the doctor, but he's more like a mixin' of both of them.”

Christy had to laugh. She shook her finger at her two students. “You girls need to learn to stay out of other people's business. What a pair of old gossips you are! You could give Granny O'Teale lessons in gossiping.”

“Are you going to marry Mr. Lance if'n you stay here in Asheville?” Bessie asked.

Christy frowned. “What do you mean, ‘if I stay here in Asheville'? Where did you get that notion?”

Bessie and Ruby Mae exchanged a long glance. “I kinda happened to overhear the preacher and Doctor MacNeill talkin',” Ruby Mae said. “They was sayin' as how you'd probably never go back to Cutter Gap, on account of how much easier life is here in Asheville.”

“They said that?” Christy demanded. “They have no right to say those kinds of things!”

The two girls were staring at her solemnly. “Is it true, though, Miz Christy?” Ruby Mae asked softly.

No, Christy wanted to say. No, it's a ridiculous idea. Of course I'm going back to the Cove. But something held her back. She hesitated. And she was shocked by her own hesitation.

Was she really considering
not
going back to Cutter Gap? She hadn't even formed the idea in her head, at least not consciously. But now that Ruby Mae had posed the question, the answer was not so easy.

“I have every intention of returning to Cutter Gap,” Christy said evasively.

From their worried expressions, it was easy to see that neither Ruby Mae nor Bessie was convinced.

Ten

T
he next day, Ruby Mae woke early. She usually woke with the sun. Back home at the mission, she had morning chores to do. But here in Miz Christy's house, there were no chores. Leastways, no one had asked her to do anything.

Miz Christy had promised to take her shopping after they went to visit Bessie. And of course they would get something for Bessie as well.

But when Ruby Mae climbed out of bed and went out into the hallway, she found her teacher's door still shut. The doctor and the preacher were both still asleep, too.

She headed downstairs. The feel of the carpeted stairs on her bare feet was amazing. It must be a mighty fine thing to wake up on a cold morning and be able to walk on rugs. She'd never even heard of the like before.

She followed a delicious smell toward the kitchen. There she found Miz Christy's mama, pulling a pan of fresh biscuits from the oven.

“Ah, Ruby Mae, good morning,” Mrs. Huddleston said cheerfully. “I see you're an early riser, like me.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Ruby Mae said. “Mostly, that is. Sometimes I lay abed till the sun is almost up over the ridge.”

“Would you care for a biscuit? And perhaps some tea or coffee?”

“I wouldn't want to impose on you, ma'am,” Ruby Mae said. But the biscuits did look awfully good. And she had a powerful hunger.

“Nonsense. I was just making coffee. And I baked these biscuits to be eaten. Come, have a seat. I've been meaning to have a talk with you.”

Ruby Mae took a chair and watched with wide eyes as Mrs. Huddleston piled the biscuits high on a plate. Then she brought out sweet cream and fresh butter and two kinds of fruit preserves, orange and boysenberry.

It was a regular feast, and Ruby Mae dug right in. “This biscuit is a pure taste of heaven, Mrs. Huddleston, it truly is.”

“That's very kind of you.” Mrs. Huddleston grinned. “Ever since we lost Mathilda, I've been doing all the cooking. I'm afraid biscuits are the only thing I cook really well.”

“Was Mathilda kin of yours?”

“Oh, no, she was our servant. She did a lot of the housework and some of the cooking as well. She finally got married and now takes care of her own family.”

“A servant?”

“Yes. You know, she helped out and lived with us. She was almost a part of the family. I wish I could find someone to replace her.”

Mrs. Huddleston was looking straight at Ruby Mae, like maybe she was thinking on something. Nervously, Ruby Mae checked the front of her dress, to see if she'd spilled some jam or crumbs.

“So, tell me about your life in Cutter Gap,” Mrs. Huddleston said. “I know that you live at the mission house with Christy. Do you enjoy living there?”

“Oh, yes, ma'am. We get plenty to eat, and on cold nights there's a small fire and all. Of course, it's nothing near so fine as this house.”

Mrs. Huddleston nodded. “And how do you like having Christy as a teacher?” “Miz Christy is purely the best teacher in the whole world. Most everyone loves her. Except for some folks that don't like outsiders. And the moonshiners, they don't like her much, since she and the preacher spoke against them. There's some folks say she and the preacher and even Miz Alice should go back to where they come from and leave well enough alone.”

“And how does Doctor MacNeill feel about the mission? And Christy?”

Ruby Mae hid a smile. Now they were getting around to what Mrs. Huddleston
really
wanted to talk about. “The doctor? He says he doesn't really approve of the mission, but that's just what he
says
. If you know what I mean, ma'am. It ain't the mission he doesn't want around, it's mostly the preacher.”

“I see. So Reverend Grantland and Doctor MacNeill don't get along?”

Ruby Mae wondered if she should say anything more. But like Miss Ida was always saying, Ruby Mae
did
like to talk. “I reckon you already heard me say that the preacher and the doctor is both sweet on Miz Christy,” she said.

“Yes, and I'd already guessed as much,” Mrs. Huddleston said with a smile.

“I wonder, though . . . surely Doctor MacNeill could establish a practice somewhere else. Say, in a city. Right here in Asheville, even. And Reverend Grantland could no doubt find a church in need of an eager young preacher.”

Ruby Mae swallowed the last crumbs of biscuit. Then she looked up at Mrs. Huddleston. “I reckon they could. If'n they wanted to.”