Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice (28 page)

Mrs. Huddleston sighed. “To be honest with you, Ruby Mae, I miss my daughter. I wish I could find a way to convince her to come home. But I fear that Reverend Grantland and Doctor MacNeill are giving her powerful reasons to stay in the mountains.”

“I don't think the doctor would ever leave the mountains,” Ruby Mae said. “He's born and raised in those mountains, even though he did go away to learn his medicine in some faraway place. He come back to the mountains, and I 'spect he'll stay.”

“I see.”

“But I calculate as how the preacher will leave someday. He's not from the mountains at all. I figure there will come a day when he says, ‘I done my work here, it's time to move on.'”

“So if my daughter chooses Reverend Grantland, I may be able to see her move back to Asheville, and raise her family here where I can see them grow up. But if she chooses Doctor MacNeill, I'll see her only rarely.” Mrs. Huddleston leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “You're a bright girl, Ruby Mae. Whom do you think she will choose?”

Ruby Mae smiled. She had a pretty good idea which man Miz Christy liked better—even if Miz Christy wasn't sure herself. At least she
had
been sure, before she came with Miz Christy to Asheville. Now she wasn't sure of anything.

“If it was a straight-up choice betwixt the preacher and the doctor,” Ruby Mae began, “I'd have to say Miz Christy would —”

“Good morning,” Christy said loudly as she entered the room.

Ruby Mae and Mrs. Huddleston both jumped at the sound of her voice.

Christy looked from one to the other. “I believe my ears are burning. If I didn't know better, I'd swear there'd been some gossiping going on here.”

“Gossiping?” Mrs. Huddleston said. “What a thought! No, I was just talking to Ruby Mae. You see, I was just about to make her an offer.”

“An offer?” Christy repeated.

“Yes. I was about to ask Ruby Mae whether she would like to come and live here permanently. She could take over some of Mathilda's work. I could really use the help.”

Ruby Mae's mouth dropped open. And so did Christy's.

June 11, 1912

I have just come from the hospital. Bessie is fine and in good spirits.

I wish I could say the same for David and Neil. Especially David. I told him about our church's plans to start their own mission. He knows now that they will not be able to help him with the mission at Cutter Gap. Naturally, he said he wished them all the best. But I know he is disappointed. It was not what he had hoped for. But nothing is turning out quite the way we all had hoped.

Here I am, home again in Asheville. Among people I've known for many years. It's good to be with my family and to sleep in my old bed. But somehow I don't feel the way I thought I would.

Nothing seems quite right. I feel as if all that should be most familiar has become strange. Neil and David both seem to be angry at me. Perhaps they are jealous that I have spent some time with Lance. But Lance is just an old, dear friend. There is no reason for David or Neil to be jealous.

Or is there? There was a time, back when Lance and I were little children playing together, that we said we would be married when we grew up. That's just the prattle of little children, and doesn't mean anything. But still, I believe Lance does have some feeling for me.

Ruby Mae, too, is acting differently toward me. Or is it that I am behaving differently toward her?

And even though everything here in Asheville should seem familiar and welcoming to me, it seems changed somehow. Perhaps it is I who have changed. Perhaps once you've left, you can never really go home again.

I only know that I am confused. I no longer feel certain of where I belong. I care deeply for my
339
students and Fairlight Spencer and Miss Alice back at Cutter Gap. But my family is here in Asheville.

Too many questions are swimming around in my head. What are my true feelings for Neil and David and Lance? What are my true feelings about Cutter Gap and Asheville?

I suppose it all comes down to one question: Where do I belong? I was certain that God had led me to the mission in Cutter Gap. But now that I am back here, I wonder if He has not shown me a new way—a way that brings me back to my family.

Tonight I am to speak to the meeting of businessmen organized by Lance and his father at our church. I think I know what they are going to ask of me. And I don't know what answer to give.

All I ever wanted was to help people, to make a difference in people's lives. How am I to do that? Where am I to do that?

My church here will give no help to the Cutter Gap mission because they are building their own mission. Without that help, the mission that Miss Alice founded may fail.

Against that, there may be the chance to do wonderful work, right here in Asheville. Thanks to mother's offer, I could even keep Ruby Mae with me. But what about David? And Neil?

David and Neil think I will be influenced by the comforts of home. And I must admit, if I am honest, that I do enjoy those comforts. But I hope I can set aside such unworthy considerations and find the way to do God's will.

I feel as if I am caught up in a tornado, being spun wildly around with David and Neil and Lance; with the poor children of Cutter Gap, and the poor children of Asheville; with my parents, and Miss Alice and Fairlight; and, yes, with my warm, comfortable room.

It's all too much. I pray that God will show me the way, because I am unable to find it alone.

Eleven

I
t may interest you to know, Reverend, that the bells in our steeple were cast by the same foundry that fashioned the Liberty Bell.” Mr. Barclay, Lance's father, had David by the arm and was showing him around the church. They were waiting for all the members of the businessmen's association to assemble in a meeting room off the church.

Lance was with them, too. Christy was careful to avoid seeming friendly to either David or Lance. The last thing she needed was to have either man feeling jealous.

“We have almost fifteen hundred in our congregation now,” Mr. Barclay said. “Many of the most prominent citizens of Asheville. You'll meet some wealthy and influential men here tonight.”

Christy felt a little sorry for David. Mr. Barclay was justly proud of the church, but she worried that David might be feeling a little overwhelmed.

“That must be an awesome burden for your pastor,” David said. “Our congregation is quite a bit smaller. In fact, I believe we could fit most of them in the first two pews of this church and have room left over.”

“Don't you find it frustrating sometimes, having so small a flock, when you are obviously such a bright and energetic young man?” Mr. Barclay asked. “There's always a place for a smart fellow like yourself here.”

“I feel that God led me to do His work at the Cutter Gap mission, Mr. Barclay.” David laughed easily. “Perhaps the Lord has a less complimentary opinion of my abilities than you have.”

“In any event,” Lance said smoothly, “no congregation could ever seem poor that had Miss Huddleston as a member.” He gave a little bow in Christy's direction.

“Indeed,” David agreed, a little frostily.

Christy pretended not to have heard either man.

Besides, her thoughts were on more serious matters. She was troubled by David's easy confidence that he was doing the right thing by staying at the mission. How could David be so sure of his calling? She wished she could be that confident.

Christy looked around at the church. She had been baptized in this church. She had first taken Holy Communion in this church.

She thought of the church in the mountains. It was easy to recall every detail, since it was also her schoolroom. The altar was her desk. The pews were supplemented with her student's desks. And the hogs snorted in the mud beneath the building on Sundays, the same as every other day.

“I believe we are about ready, Christy,” Lance said, breaking into her thoughts.

“Oh. I'm sorry, I guess I was daydreaming.” “Now, don't be nervous,” Mr. Barclay counseled. “These men all want to hear what you and Reverend Grantland have to say. You know that we hope to reach out to our own poor, right here in Asheville. You two are the experts, so we'll listen very carefully.”

The meeting consisted of almost a hundred men, all wearing conservative business suits and looking rather intimidating. After David spoke for a few minutes, explaining the purpose of the mission and its importance to the mountain folk, it was Christy's turn. She said a quick, silent prayer, then walked shakily to the podium.

She faced a sea of whiskers and waistcoats and skeptical looks. Then she saw Lance's face. He smiled encouragingly. And David gave her a little wink.

“Gentlemen, my name is Christy Huddleston. I suppose some of you know my family. We—”

“Speak up!” someone yelled out. “I can't hear her.”

In a louder voice, Christy went on. “My name is Christy Huddleston. I am the teacher at the mission school of Cutter Gap. We have sixty-seven students, all in one classroom. I teach all the subjects except math and Bible studies, which Reverend Grantland takes care of. The students range across all ages. Some are almost as old as I am. A few had some schooling before the mission opened. Others had very little or none at all.”

For ten minutes Christy told them all she could think of about the school and the students. But soon she began to wonder whether she was simply rambling on. She faltered.

“I . . . I don't know what else I can tell you,” she said.

An old gentleman raised his voice. “Do you think that similar schools, combining all sorts of different students, could be made to work in other places?”

Christy shrugged. “I'm sure they could. I believe that most children want to learn, given the chance. It's not just a matter of having new books and desks and fine buildings . . . although we could certainly use those,” she added with a self-conscious laugh. “But the truly important thing is simply to give the children the
chance
to learn. They will seldom disappoint you.”

Mr. Barclay stood and joined her on the podium. “As you know, Miss Huddleston, we've been discussing the possibility of establishing a sort of mission to the many poor and uneducated families that have come to Asheville to work in the mills. Many have come down from the mountains in search of work. Others are from foreign countries and speak very little English. They need medical care and a school for their children.”

“Yes, I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” Christy said enthusiastically.

“We have already put up a school building.

But a school needs more than a building and desks. More, even, than students, be they ever so willing to learn. A school needs a teacher.”

Christy tried to keep a smile plastered on her face. She knew what was coming next. She caught David's eye and could tell that he was filled with concern.

“A school needs a teacher,” Mr. Barclay repeated. “One with experience in doing a great deal with very little. A teacher accustomed to working almost alone. A teacher with experience in large classrooms full of diverse children. In short, Miss Huddleston, what our school needs is you.”

After the meeting was over, David and Christy walked back to her parents' home.

For a while, they were silent. Christy tried not to think, but simply enjoy the evening, as lights came on in the windows of the houses they passed and street lights glowed yellow. A mix of automobiles and horse-drawn wagons passed, dodging around the careening streetcars. Other couples were out walking as well. They would smile politely, the gentlemen tipping their hats. The moon was just appearing in a violet sky.

“I suppose I'll have to consider how the mission will replace you,” David said at last. He sounded tense and clipped.

“What?” Christy said in surprise.

“I need to consider finding a teacher to replace you,” David said. “I assume you will accept their offer.”

“Well,
I
don't assume any such thing,” Christy said.

“Nonsense,” David said with surprising force. “The offer has everything in its favor. You would have a beautiful new classroom. Those gentlemen will see that you have all the school books and supplies you could ever want. No more sharing battered books with half the pages gone. No more worrying that you'll run out of everything. No more hostile, suspicious community. No more dealing with superstition and foolishness. No more hogs under the classroom.”

“Do you honestly believe I would be swayed by new books?”

David smiled crookedly. “No,” he admitted. “I don't think you could be swayed by a promise of new books. But I think you could be swayed by the chance to do important work, while being close to your family and friends.”

“David, I don't know
what
to do,” Christy admitted.

“You would be rid of me, if you stayed here.”

Christy stopped walking. She put her hand on David's arm. “David, whatever I do, you have to know one thing—I have no desire to be rid of you.”

“Really?” he asked. “You turned down my offer of marriage, after all.”

“That was for other reasons,” Christy said. “And I never said no. I just said I wasn't ready.”

“And now you
are
ready to return to Asheville,” he said bitterly.

“David, I just don't know. I . . . I felt that God led me to Cutter Gap. Might He not be leading me back here now?” David hung his head. “I've wondered that same thing,” he admitted. “Is this your true mission? To be here and help the community where you grew up? To do God's work and still have your family around you?” He shook his head. “There's no doubt that this school for the mill workers is a wonderful idea. And there's no doubt that you would be the best possible teacher they could ever hope to have. Am I just putting my own selfish interests ahead of God's will?”