Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice (13 page)

Christy slowed Prince to a walk. “Well, Teacher?” she asked David.

“Nice work. Very nice. Want to try again?”

Christy nodded. With one jump under her belt, she felt certain the next one would be easier. Again she took Prince around the field. As she neared the children, they applauded. “You two just flew like a big bird right over that jump!” Ruby Mae called.

Christy waved, then set her eyes on the logs. This wasn't so bad, after all. Her fears seemed silly now. Maybe she would take it a little faster this time—

Suddenly, Prince let out a horrified whinny of protest. He reared back on his hind legs as Christy clung to the saddle, desperately trying to hang on.

“Snake!” one of the children screamed. “Prince is spooked!”

“Hang on, Miz Christy!” Ruby Mae cried, but already Christy could feel her grip slipping.

David was running toward her. “Hang on!” he cried.

“I'm . . . I'm trying,” Christy managed. She could sense the huge horse's terrible fear.

Prince lowered his front legs for a moment, and Christy caught a glimpse of a black snake sliding out from a nearby rock. It was just a harmless little black snake, but Prince didn't know that. He let out another terrified, anguished whinny. Again he reared back with even more force, and this time Christy could not hold on.

As she went flying backward through the air, she heard Ruby Mae's screams and David's cries, and then suddenly the world went completely black.

Four

I
s she a-comin' to?”

“She's movin' some. That be a good sign, don't it, Doctor?”

“That's some bump Teacher's got on her head, ain't it?”

“Christy? Can you hear me?”

Christy tried to focus on the voices floating through her head. Was that Doctor MacNeill's voice she'd heard?

“Christy? It's Neil. Don't try to move too suddenly. You took quite a spill. You've been unconscious for the last hour or so.”

Christy moved toward the sound of his voice. Pain ripped through her head. Her left temple felt raw.

She tried to open her eyes, but there was something covering them—something cool and moist. She reached to touch it.

“That's a cold cloth, dear.” It was Miss Alice. “To help keep down the swelling.”

A gentle hand removed the cloth. Slowly Christy opened her eyes.

At least, she
thought
she'd opened them.

“The cloth,” she whispered, her voice filled with panic, “take off the—”

She felt a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Be still, now,” Doctor MacNeill said. She could hear the worry in his voice.

Christy blinked, again and again. Up, down, up, down. There was no difference.

“I can't see!” she cried in terror. She lurched upright and reached out her hands. Where were all her friends? Their voices were so close, but where were
they
?

Her right hand landed on a shoulder, and a warm, strong hand grabbed her fingers. “Don't panic,” came the doctor's soothing voice.

“Of course she's panicked.” It was David. He sounded frantic. “What's happened to her, Doctor?”

“Calm down, Reverend. It's probably just temporary.” The doctor's voice grew softer.

“You took a nasty spill off that horse, Christy.

Lie back down now, and let me take a look.”

Reluctantly, Christy let herself be lowered back down to her pillow.

“Cain't she see nothin' a-tall?”

Christy recognized the little whispered voice as Mountie's. The children were probably just as terrified as she was.

“I'm fine, Mountie,” Christy said, forcing cheer into her voice. She reached out her hand and Mountie grabbed it.

“You sure, Teacher?” Mountie whispered.

“Isn't Doctor MacNeill the best doctor in Cutter Gap?” Christy asked.

“Well, I reckon,” Mountie said. “Course he's the
only
doctor.”

“Come on, children,” Miss Alice said firmly. “Let's let the doctor do his job.”

“But what if she needs us?” Creed asked.

“She won't be needing you any time soon,” the doctor said irritably.

Christy winced at his tone. “You go on, children. See if you can find that ring for me, all right?”

As the children were leaving, Christy lowered her voice. “Tell me the truth, Neil. Why can't I see?”

“First let's decide just how much you can't see. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Christy gazed straight ahead. Her head throbbed. She saw nothing but a vast dark mist. “Thirteen?”

“In other words, you can see nothing.”

“It's just emptiness. Like a dark, foggy night.”

The doctor sighed deeply. Christy heard some whispering and shuffling, followed by sounds she couldn't quite identify. Fresh air rushed past. Someone had opened the windows in her room.

A few moments later, the doctor returned to her bedside. “I want you to turn your head and body just slightly to the right. Do you see anything?”

Christy did as he instructed. Every inch of movement caused a sharp stab of pain to her temple. She waited. The room was hushed. She could feel the gentle touch of the early afternoon sun on her arms.

She could
feel
its brightness. But she could not see it.

“Nothing,” she admitted at last.

Again, the long sigh. “All right, then,” said the doctor. “One more thing.”

She heard him moving. She could tell he was close by the sweet smell of his tobacco. In the background she heard footsteps marching back and forth, back and forth. Was that David, pacing?

“Look straight ahead for me,” the doctor instructed.

Christy did. Darkness stretched before her like a black quilt.

She waited, and then the sharp smell of kerosene met her nose. On one edge of the darkness, something changed. It was as if she were seeing the first faint glimmerings of dawn.

“Anything?” the doctor asked in a calm, steady voice.

“It's . . . it's as if the sun is coming up,” Christy began. “No, not that strong. But I saw something. Movement, light . . .
something
.”

“Then she'll see again!” David cried.

“Not so fast, Reverend,” the doctor said. “It's a good sign, but that's all. Just a sign.”

“The doctor was moving a lantern very close to your eyes,” said Miss Alice. “That was the light you perceived.”

“What does that mean?” Christy asked, almost afraid to hope.

Doctor MacNeill took her hand. “Here's what we know, Christy. And I'm no eye specialist, mind you. You've taken a bad fall. When Prince threw you, you hit your head on a sharp rock. There's a lot of damage to the eye and temple area—cuts, bruises, that sort of thing. But that doesn't explain the loss of sight. That could be caused by swelling from your concussion. There may be pressure on the optic nerve.”

“So when the swelling goes down,” David interrupted, “then she'll be able to see again?”

“Could be,” the doctor said cautiously. “But the swelling may have caused permanent damage. We can only wait and hope. I've only seen a couple other cases like this. And they didn't . . . well, they didn't turn out well.”

Silence fell. Christy let the words sink in, one by one.

The swelling may have caused permanent damage
. Permanent damage meant she might be blind.

Blind. Forever.

“Meantime,” the doctor continued, “I'm going to bandage up those cuts around your eyes and temple to keep them from getting infected.” He paused. “Is there a lot of pain?” Christy smiled. “Yes. In my hand, actually.

You're squeezing it too hard.”

“Sorry about that.”

“How long . . . how long till we know something?” Christy asked. “For sure, I mean.” “It's hard to say. A few weeks, most likely. Maybe even sooner.”

“There must be something we can do!” David exploded.

“There is, David,” Miss Alice said gently. “We can pray.”

“I'm not a praying man myself,” the doctor said. “But if I were, now would be the time I'd try it.”

The others left while Doctor MacNeill bandaged Christy's eyes.

“Neil?” she asked in a whisper when he was done. “One thing. I was just wondering . . . is it all right if I—”

“What?”

Christy let out a soft sob.

Doctor MacNeill touched her hair tenderly. “It's all right,” he said, his voice breaking. “You go right ahead and cry.”

Five

M
ay I come in?”

At the sound of David's voice, Christy stirred. The world was black. She tried to open her eyes, but something heavy made it impossible. Her head stung as she sat up. Gingerly she touched the thick cotton bandages Doctor MacNeill had placed around her head.

“It's me. David.”

“I know. I can still hear,” Christy snapped. Then, her voice softening, she added, “I'm sorry, David. I didn't mean to sound that way.”

“You have every right to sound that way,” David said. Christy heard the sound of dishes on a tray. The scent of peppermint tea drifted past.

“Ida fixed you a tray,” David explained. “I'll put it here, on your nightstand.”

“I'm starving. Tell Miss Ida thanks.”

“Here. I'll hand you the cup.” David placed the steaming cup of tea into Christy's hands.

Carefully Christy lifted the cup. The hot steam drifted past her chin. She put the china edge to her lips and started to take a sip, but she'd misjudged how full the cup was. Hot tea dribbled down her chin.

“What a mess,” she groaned. “You'd think I could manage a cup of tea!”

“Don't worry,” David said. “Here's a napkin.”

Christy's lower lip quivered. “It's such a simple thing,” she said. “Drinking a cup of tea. You never even give it a second thought, but now . . .”

“No use crying over spilled tea,” David tried to joke.

“How am I ever going to do all the things I used to do?” Christy asked, trying not to sob. “Teaching, for example. How can I manage the children? I can't even drink a cup of tea. How can I grade a paper or write on the blackboard?”

David was silent for a moment. “The truth is, I don't know, Christy. But if anyone can do it, you can.”

“You have more faith in me than I do,” she replied.

“I feel so . . .” David took a ragged breath. “This is all my fault, Christy. I was the one who was teaching you to jump. I was the one who promised you nothing would happen.”

Christy could hear the pain in his voice. “David, that's crazy. Prince saw a snake. He threw me. That's all. It wasn't your fault in any way.”

“There's something I have to say to you,” David said. He cleared his throat. “I know this isn't the right time, and I know you probably can't answer me. But I still want you to marry me, Christy. With all my heart I want that. Nothing's changed.”

“Oh, David,” Christy whispered, “
everything's
changed.”

“I love you, Christy Huddleston. I love your good heart and your spirit and the way you laugh. It doesn't matter to me one whit whether you can see or not.” He gave a soft laugh. “Truth is, it might be an advantage. I'm not the handsomest catch in the world, after all.”

“I have the feeling a lot of women would disagree with that.”

“So?”

Christy fingered the edge of her blanket. “David, I need time. Time to think about everything that's happened, and time to sort out my feelings—”

“You're not sure how you feel about me, then?”

“I'm not sure how I feel about
any
thing,” Christy said lightly.

“Is there . . . someone else?”

“You know there's no one else.”

“Well, I hope not, but you never know. Sometimes I wonder if the Doctor . . .” David's voice trailed off.

“David, please. Neil MacNeill is the most aggravating man I've ever known. He's pigheaded and arrogant and—” Christy stopped herself. “Well, you needn't worry there.”

“Good,” David said, but he didn't sound entirely convinced. “Well, anyway. I'll give you all the time you need, Christy. I just wanted you to know that my offer stands— ring or no ring.”

“You never know. Miracles do happen. Maybe the ring will show up,” said Christy.

“Miracles
do
happen. You remember that, all right?”

Christy heard a soft knock at the door, then a familiar voice. “How's the patient?” Miss Alice asked.

“The patient's turning out to be quite a slob,” Christy said. “I can't even drink a cup of tea without it turning into a disaster.”

“I should let the patient get some rest.” David leaned down and kissed Christy on her cheek. “Sleep well.”

When he was gone, Miss Alice sat on the edge of Christy's bed. She smelled of pine and balsam and fresh air, as if she'd brought the mountains straight into Christy's bedroom.

Christy had always found it calming to be in Miss Alice's presence. She had such a sense of serenity and grace about her. But tonight, as the dark pressed in on Christy, she felt as if no one could console her—not even Miss Alice.

“Is there anything I can bring you?” Miss Alice asked. “Some light would be nice.”

Miss Alice laughed gently. She reached over toward Christy's nightstand, then took Christy's hand.

Christy recognized the soft leather binding. “My Bible.”

“You asked for light. And there it is.”

Her tone was both soothing and direct, as it always was. There was no hint of pity. Somehow, knowing that Miss Alice did not intend to treat her any differently reassured Christy.

“Miss Alice,” Christy asked, “why did this have to happen now? To me?”

“You're not the first to have her strength tested. And you won't be the last.”