That afternoon, Christy rode over to Doctor MacNeill’s cabin on Prince, the mission’s black stallion.
The doctor was on his porch when Christy rode up. “So,” he asked, “did the Washington children come to school today?”
Christy gave a terse nod.
“I’m almost afraid to ask how it went.”
She climbed off Prince and tied him to a tree. “Let me put it this way. It was a long day. Longer still for those poor children.”
“I’m sorry to say I’m not surprised.”
“The older boys threatened them all day. Even when they didn’t use their voices, I could see it in their eyes. And the younger children—well, they just acted as if Louise and John and Hannah were invisible.”
“Give them time. They may come around.”
“That’s what Miss Alice said. But I’m starting to have my doubts.”
“Come on in and sit awhile. You look worn out. What brings you here, anyway? Not that it matters. I’m always glad to see you.”
Christy climbed the porch steps. “Well, Miss Alice asked me to pick up some more cough medicine. She’s afraid two bottles won’t be enough.” She leaned against the door jamb, smiling. “That could have waited, I suppose. The other reason I’m here is to tell you I’ve decided to accept your kind offer to attend the wedding.”
Doctor MacNeill brushed his hand through his hair. He gazed at her doubtfully. “Are you saying you’ll go along with my little plan?”
“No. I’m saying I’ll go if you’ll agree to tell James the whole truth.”
The doctor sighed. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Huddleston.”
“You’d have to tell him the truth eventually, Neil.”
“I know. I know. You’re right. I suppose this rivalry seems small-minded to you. Didn’t you ever compete with a friend?”
“Mary Ellen Lanning.” Christy settled into the doctor’s old rocking chair. “She stole Gus Ricketts from me.”
“Your first love?” the doctor asked.
“You might say so. I was all of twelve years old. But I was still heartbroken.”
The doctor pulled up a chair beside her. “Imagine the jealousy you felt toward Mary Ellen Lanning, and multiply it by a thousand.” He shook his head. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way. I made my choice to live here. I ought to be happy with it. And I realize it’s wrong to envy what James has. But still . . . don’t you ever look at those seventy youngsters in your class and wonder if you’d be happier somewhere else? If you’re really making a difference in their lives?”
Christy stared out the window. Two mockingbirds were making a ruckus as they chased each other through the sky. “Of course I feel frustrated, Neil. Especially on days like today, when I can’t see any way to get through to those children. But there are good days, too—days when there is laughter and singing, instead of arguing and fighting. I try to concentrate on those.”
“But the fighting doesn’t ever really stop, that’s the point. I patch up a man’s wound so he can go right back to feuding. I sell land to some good people, hoping they’ll be able to put down roots. And to what end? So they can be persecuted till they’re forced to leave?” He rubbed his eyes.
Christy’s heart ached at the pain in Neil’s voice. She’d felt the same way many times, especially after she’d first come to Cutter Gap to teach. But it was harder to see someone she cared about suffer through the same despair and doubt.
She squeezed his hand. “Believe me, Neil. God brought you back to Cutter Gap for a reason.”
“I wish I had your faith.” He shrugged, forcing a smile. “But enough of this. We have some practicing to do.”
“Practicing?”
“Even waltz champions need a little practice now and then.”
“You know, I seem to remember that on our recent trip to Asheville, you weren’t nearly so enthusiastic about dancing.”
“That dance at the Barclays’?” The doctor groaned. “You were too busy dancing with your old beau, Lance, as I recall. The reverend and I stood in the corner all night like a couple of wallflowers. But I danced with you at the mission open house.”
“That’s true. I regained the use of my toes after a few weeks.”
“Actually, you said I was a wonderful dancer. And remember that night we danced alone by the fire, after you rescued Ruby Mae Morrison?”
“Yes,” Christy said softly. “That I will never forget.”
“No broken toes?”
“None whatsoever.”
The doctor stood and held out his hand. “I won’t forget it, either,” he said.
Christy gave a little curtsy. “I’ll only dance if you promise to hum a real waltz.”
“Strauss, then. Just for you.”
Taking Christy’s hand, the doctor led her out to the front yard. Slowly they spun around the grass in graceful circles while the doctor softly hummed.
It was so pleasant. Christy tried to forget about all the troubles that day. She tried to focus on the doctor’s low, soft voice. The sun, warm on her shoulders. The wind, making the trees whisper secrets. The air, heavy with the smell of honeysuckle.
But every time she closed her eyes, she saw the frightened but determined faces of the Washington children. And the ugly faces of hatred on too many of her other students.
Suddenly the pleasant calm was interrupted by the sharp sound of gunshots.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Christy stopped cold. “It’s coming from the direction of the Washingtons’!”
“Get Prince. I’ll grab my gun.”
Christy untied Prince’s reins. The doctor bounded from his cabin. In one hand was his gun. In the other was his medical bag. He strapped the gun and his bag behind Prince’s saddle, then leapt onto the stallion.
He took Christy’s hand and lifted her up. “Hang on,” he instructed as she settled behind him.
She wrapped her arms around his chest. They headed down the path toward the Washingtons’ as fast as possible, dodging low tree limbs and bushes along the way.
They’d almost reached the cabin when they saw Hannah running toward them, waving her arms frantically.
“They shot John!” she cried. “They shot my brother!”