Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice (3 page)

“Ruby Mae, you be careful, now, ya' hear?”

Ruby Mae looked over to see her mother approaching. Her graying hair was tied with a piece of frayed rope. In the bright sunshine, the harsh lines in her face made her look even more worn and tired than usual.

“I will, Ma,” Ruby Mae promised. She toyed with her reins. “I . . . I miss you and Pa.”

“You can come visit any time. Ain't like you don't know the way.” Mrs. Morrison nodded at Prince. “Looks like you're gettin' spoiled, livin' here with that teacher in the mission house. Your own horse to ride, plenty of food.” She clucked her tongue at Ruby Mae's braids, the ones Miz Christy had taught her to make. “Why, I'll just bet you take a bath in that metal tub of theirs every single day.”

Ruby Mae hesitated. She didn't know what to say. The truth was, she did like living at the mission house. She missed her parents, but they were always yelling at each other and at her. It was a relief to get away from all the fussing. When Miss Alice had first suggested that Ruby Mae stay at the mission house for a while, Ruby Mae had wondered if it were a good idea. But now she knew that it was.

“Maybe I can come back home soon, Ma,” Ruby Mae said softly. She wondered if Rob was listening. She glanced over at him, but he was fiddling with his stirrups. Ruby Mae lowered her voice. “But it just seems like whenever we're all together, we start in on fightin' like wildcats in a flour sack.”

“If you weren't so ornery,” Mrs. Morrison began, “that mouth of yours runnin' on like a waterfall—” She stopped. “Well, no point in startin' that again. I just wanted to say be careful, is all.”

From behind them came a drunken whoop.

It was Bird's-Eye, Lundy's father, with Ruby Mae's stepfather. Bird's-Eye was walking lopsidedly, leaning on Duggin for support.

“Looky here!” Bird's-Eye cried. “That your stepdaughter, Duggin? She think she's a boy, do she?”

“Told her she ain't got a prayer of winnin', but you know that Ruby Mae,” Duggin said, propping up Bird's-Eye as he nearly tripped. “That gal gets a notion in her head, it's stuck there like honey in a hive.”

Mrs. Morrison scowled. “Don't pay him no never-mind, girl,” she whispered. “I seen you ride before. You can beat 'em all, if'n you put that stubborn will of your'n to it.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Ruby Mae said. She smiled gratefully at her mother, then put her left foot in the stirrup and swung herself up onto Prince's sleek back. She nudged him gently toward the starting line. She was proud of the way he stood there, ready to run, but calm. Not fidgeting and fussing, like some of the other horses.

Miss Alice appeared in front of the line of riders. She winked at Ruby Mae, and Ruby Mae gave her thumbs-up, to show she was confident.

Ruby Mae loved Miss Alice. Miss Alice had a way of talking about God that made Him seem not so fearsome and far away, but kind and loving and close as your own heartbeat.

“All right, I see we have our riders assembled,” Miss Alice said. “Lundy Taylor on Lightning. Jake Pentland on Robert E. Lee. Elias Tuttle on Possum. Ruby Mae Morrison on Prince—”

At the sound of Ruby Mae's name, Duggin and Bird's-Eye, along with some of the other men, began to hoot and whistle.

Rob looked over at her and winked. “Don't pay 'em no never-mind,” he said.

“And last but not least,” Miss Alice continued, “Rob Allen on Pegasus. Now, as this is my birthday, I will officiate over the race, to be sure it's run fair and square. On the count of three, you will race to the edge of the field to that big oak, turn, and come back to this spot. Be careful on that turn, by the way. It's a tight one. Winner receives two of Miss Ida's finest apple pies.”

“Woulda liked a jug o' likker better,” Lundy grumbled.

Miss Alice ignored him. “Are there any questions?”

“Can't rightly start a race without a gun,” said Ruby Mae's stepfather. He waved his shotgun in the air. “Ain't proper.”

“There'll be no shooting at my birthday party, Duggin Morrison,” Miss Alice warned. She spoke so quietly and firmly that he put down his gun. Miss Alice had a way about her, Ruby Mae thought, smiling to herself. She could put the fear of God into any man, even Ruby Mae's stepfather.

“But on second thought, Duggin,” Miss Alice continued with a smile, “since my own hand is temporarily out of order, I'll allow you to start the riders off, on the count of three. One shot straight up, Duggin, and that's all, understood?”

Ruby Mae's stepfather grinned. He pointed his old hunting rifle toward the sky.

“Riders, are you ready?” Miss Alice called.

Everyone nodded. “Ready to beat the pants off'n the rest o' these losers!” Lundy cried. Ruby Mae cast a quick smile at Rob. She bent down and whispered to Prince, “We can beat 'em all, boy. You just show 'em what you're made of, and so will I.” She looked back and saw Miz Christy watching her. Miz Christy held up her fingers, to show they were crossed for good luck.

“On your marks,” Miss Alice called. A hush fell over the crowd.

“Get set,” she said.

Ruby crouched low, tightening her grip on the reins. She could feel Prince tense beneath her. His ears were pricked. He pounded a foot on the ground.

He was ready, and so was Ruby Mae.

Duggin Morrison fired his gun. The powerful blast shook the air.

“Hah, boy!” Ruby Mae pressed her bare heels into Prince's sides and gave him plenty of rein as he thrust into a full gallop. To her left, Lundy's horse, Lightning, and Elias' horse, Possum, were neck and neck, just a few yards ahead of her. To her right, Peg and Robert E. Lee had fallen back.

“Atta boy!” she screamed. Prince's hooves slashed the grass, filling the air with a noise like slow thunder. He was flying, that was all there was to it. If she didn't know better, she'd swear the mighty horse had wings.

Ruby Mae kept her eyes focused on the great oak at the end of the field. It would be a tricky turn. She'd have to slow Prince down enough to take it sharply and avoid running into the other riders. But she didn't want to slow down too much. Especially not when Prince was starting to overtake Lightning and Possum.

Down the field they flew. She could hear the whooping and hollering of the crowd behind her. But this was no time to think about them. She needed to think about Prince.

By the time she reached the tree, Ruby Mae and Lundy were in the lead as their two stallions, Lightning and Prince, struggled to win. She eased to the right of the tree, while Lundy and his horse went to the left. It was all she could do to rein in Prince. The leather straps burned in her hands as she slowed him down to a fast trot. “Whoa, boy, whoa,” she cried. “We're only halfway home.”

At the sound of her voice, Prince responded instantly. Pulling hard on the left rein, Ruby Mae turned him in a tight veer. She nearly lost her balance, the turn was so sharp, but she grabbed a hunk of Prince's mane and held on for dear life.

She was still trying to regain her seat as she signaled him back into an all-out gallop. Possum, Robert E. Lee, and Peg were just approaching the tree. The field ahead of her was clear. She didn't want to look around for Lundy and lose a precious second.

“Go, Prince!” Ruby Mae cried, giving him a hard kick with her heels.

Just then, she heard the sound of thundering hooves coming from her right. It was Lightning, closing in fast. He was going to ram right into her!

“I'll get you yet, preacher-horse!” Lundy screamed.

Frantically, Ruby Mae yanked back on the reins. Prince hesitated, then pulled back to a trot. Lundy and Lightning zoomed past, just inches from Prince's head.

What if I hadn't slowed?
Ruby Mae wondered for a split second. Was Lundy such a bully that he would have risked his own horse? Or was he just sure that, because she was a girl, she would stop to save Prince . . . and herself?

Well
, she thought fiercely,
there's no point in being too sure, Lundy Taylor.

“Get him, Prince!” Ruby Mae screamed. She pushed him into a full gallop, and Prince was glad for the chance.

Twenty yards ahead of them—an impossible distance to make up—Lundy and Lightning were flying across the field to the cheers of the crowd.
We don't have a chance
, Ruby Mae thought. She knew there was no way Prince could catch Lightning now.

Fortunately, Prince did not know any such thing. Driven by the sight of another horse so close at hand, he dug his hooves deeper into the soft soil. His neck lunged. His mouth foamed. His feet flew so fast it seemed to Ruby Mae that she and Prince were no longer touching ground at all.

Faster and faster. He hurled himself on. Lundy glanced back. Ruby Mae could see both surprise and panic on his face. He whipped Lightning's shoulder with his reins. “Git on, you old nag!” he screamed.

But it was too late. Prince was not about to let Lightning win. In a final, wild surge, he flung himself forward, past Lundy and the crowd, past Miss Alice, and over the finish line. He didn't want to stop running, didn't seem to care where he was going, as long as he and Ruby Mae could fly through the air together.

Ruby Mae let him circle the crowd, still galloping. Finally she reined him into a fine trot. He pranced across the field toward the cheers, proud and haughty. His head was high, and so was Ruby Mae's. She caught sight of Miz Christy, waving and cheering. Ruby Mae's mother was smiling, nodding her head. Rob Allen gave her a wink. Lundy was scowling, of course, shooting daggers at Ruby Mae with his eyes.

Then she noticed her stepfather. His gun was cradled in his arms. He wasn't exactly smiling, you couldn't say that. But he was looking at her like he'd never quite seen her before.

Ruby Mae took one more circle around the field. In spite of Miss Alice's warning, someone shot off a gun in celebration. More shots followed. The cheers and shouts were music in the air. She slowed Prince down to a walk, leaning down long enough to stroke his damp, hot coat.

“Hear those shouts and them guns a-firin', boy?” she crooned. “That's for you. All for you.” Suddenly the shouts and shots silenced. Someone screamed, and then the field grew still. It wasn't until Ruby Mae rode closer that she saw the fallen figure of Doctor MacNeill, lying on the ground in a pool of blood. And nearby stood her stepfather, smoke still spiraling from the barrel of his gun.

Three

E
ven before she knew who'd been shot, Christy saw the bright red pool of blood.

Then she heard a child scream. “The doc! The doc's been shot!”

Frantically, Christy pushed her way through the crowd. Doctor MacNeill lay on the ground. He was bleeding badly from his left shoulder. Miss Alice was kneeling next to him. The crowd, murmuring, formed a tight circle around them.

“Neil!” Christy cried. She knelt on the other side of him. He tried to sit up, but Miss Alice eased him back down. “It's nothing,” the doctor said, but his face was pale.

“Why don't you let me be the judge of that?” Miss Alice said, as she pressed a handkerchief against the wound with her left hand.

Christy watched, horrified, as the white handkerchief turned deep red. “You're going to be fine,” she assured the doctor, but her voice was shaking.

Miss Alice stood up. She seemed to be trying to remove her own sprained right arm from the sling that held it. Christy saw her wince in pain from the attempt. Her eyes, always so calm, were worried. “Let's get you over to the mission house.”

Ruby Mae rushed over on Prince. “I'll ride him over, Miss Alice,” she said. “If'n he can get a leg up.”

“I can walk, thank you all very much,” the doctor said. Using Christy for support, he managed to stand with his arm around her shoulder. David rushed to his other side.

“I want to make this perfectly clear,” Miss Alice said to the crowd sternly. “I'm going to assume that shot was an accident.” She leveled her gaze at Duggin Morrison, who stared down at the ground. “But it was an accident born of mixing moonshine and guns. And those are two things I will not tolerate here at the mission. Next gun I hear go off, next jug of illegal liquor I see poured, I'll be getting my own gun. And you know I'm a better shot than most of you men. Even without the use of my good hand.”

Christy and David helped Doctor MacNeill walk a few feet. The doctor's face was white, and his forehead was dotted with sweat. Ruby Mae followed closely on Prince.

“Ruby Mae,” the doctor said, “I think I may just take you up on that offer, after all. By the way,” he added with a wink and a weak smile, “that was a fine race.”

Ruby Mae slid from the saddle, and with David's help, the doctor climbed onto Prince. “I feel so bad about this, Doctor,” Ruby Mae muttered as she led Prince toward the mission house, with Christy, David and Miss Alice close at hand. “It were my step-pa what shot you, I 'spect,” she muttered. “Dang drunk that he is.”

“It could have been anyone, Ruby Mae,” the doctor assured her. “Everyone was shooting off their guns.” “No, it was him,” Ruby Mae muttered. “I heard him tell Ma that he was shooting toward the clouds, but he lost his balance and the gun went off.”

“I'll tell you what to blame,” David muttered angrily. “Blame the liquor in those jugs. Blame the moonshine these mountain people insist on making and drinking and selling.”

“That's something you can't hope to change, David,” said the doctor wearily. “Take it from me. I've lived in these mountains a long time. You're new here.”

“It's something I'm
going
to change, you just wait and see,” David said firmly.

“There's plenty of time for this talk later,” Miss Alice interrupted as they approached the steps of the mission house. “Let's get the doctor inside.”

David helped Doctor MacNeill climb down off of Prince. The doctor groaned on landing, then reluctantly leaned on David for support.