Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice (6 page)

Christy set her pen down on the bedside stand. The light from her kerosene lamp flickered. Writing down her thoughts wasn't making her feel any better.

Maybe she should take a walk. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to check on the doctor. His fever had been higher tonight. That wasn't unusual, Miss Alice had said. But she wanted to keep a close eye on him. She'd refused his many demands to let him go back to his own cabin.

Christy put on her robe and slippers and stepped into the hallway, carrying her lamp. She walked down to the doctor's room. The door was ajar. She peered in. His eyes were closed. Asleep, he almost looked sweet and boyish—nothing like the stubborn, annoying man he could be when wide awake.

She tiptoed inside and set the lamp on the dresser. The doctor's forehead was bathed in sweat. She wondered if his fever had gone up. Quietly, she soaked a cloth in the basin of water near his bed.

As she reached over to place the cloth on his forehead, he opened his eyes. “I was having this wonderful dream,” he murmured. “This beautiful angel tiptoed into my room to take care of me. Now I see it wasn't a dream.”

Christy smiled. “You're still running a fever. Perhaps you're delirious. Is there anything I can get you?”

“My own bed to sleep in.”

“Sorry. Miss Alice says you're stuck here for a while longer.” Christy retrieved the lamp, then hesitated near the door. “Neil?” she asked softly. “Do you really think David made a mistake, giving that sermon today?”

“From the way you described it to me, yes, I do,” the doctor answered gravely.

“Well, I think you're wrong.”

“Why did you ask me, then?”

Christy sighed. There was no point in having this conversation. “Goodnight, Doctor.”

“Christy?”

“Yes?”

“Don't let Ruby Mae help with breakfast tomorrow, promise?”

Back in the hallway, Christy noticed that Ruby Mae's door was open. She peeked inside. The bed was empty.

Where could that girl be, in the middle of the night? Grabbing a midnight snack, perhaps? There were still a few pieces of Miss Alice's birthday cake left. No doubt Ruby Mae had taken it upon herself to finish them off.

Christy headed downstairs. The kitchen was empty. So was the parlor. Strange. Where on earth could Ruby Mae have gone, unless . . . Christy smiled. Of course.

She put the lamp aside and stepped outside. It was still very cold at night. The mountains took their sweet time warming up to spring, Fairlight Spencer liked to say.

Christy walked across the wet lawn quickly, shivering in her thin robe. Miss Alice's cabin was dark. David's bunkhouse wasn't visible from here. Christy wondered if he were having trouble sleeping, too. He'd seemed as surprised as she'd been by the hot rage and the icy silence that had greeted his sermon.

The little shed that housed Prince, Miss Alice's horse, Goldie, and the mission's crippled mule, Old Theo, was just past the schoolhouse. Christy was almost there when she heard an odd shuffling noise. It seemed to be coming from the crawl space under the schoolhouse.

She paused, listening. Nothing. Probably just the hogs who lived under there. It had taken her a while to get used to the notion of teaching in a one-room schoolhouse with hogs as downstairs neighbors. Once they had even gotten loose in her classroom, causing quite a commotion.

When she reached the shed, Christy swung open the wooden door. It let out a tired creak.

“Who's there?” came a frightened voice.

“Don't worry, Ruby Mae, it's just me, Miss Christy.”

Ruby was sitting in Prince's stall. He was lying down in the sweet-smelling hay. A patch of moonlight, coming from the only window, streaked his velvet side. Ruby Mae sat next to him, a horse blanket over her legs. Her diary was nearby.

“Miz Christy!” she exclaimed. “You nearly scared me to death!”

“I'm sorry.” Christy joined her in the stall. The hay was prickly and warm. Prince gazed at her sleepily, clearly wondering why he was getting so many late-night visitors. “I couldn't sleep, and then I saw you were gone and got worried.”

“Well, I'm glad it's just you. I thought I was hearin' noises before,” Ruby Mae said.

“Probably just the hogs. Or the wind,” Christy said.

She stroked Prince's soft muzzle. “Do you sneak out here often?”

“Some,” Ruby Mae said guardedly.

“You love Prince a lot, don't you?”

“More'n anything in the whole wide world, I reckon.” Ruby Mae pulled a piece of straw out of her curly hair. “More'n my ma and step-pa, even, I sometimes think. Is that wrong, Miz Christy, to feel like that?”

“You're just going through a rough time with your parents right now, Ruby Mae. It'll pass.”

Ruby Mae sighed. “I hope you're right. But my step-pa looked right mad at me today, after that sermon by the preacher. After church he told me I was getting carried away, living here at the mission. Said he might even make me come back home to live.” She sighed. “My step-pa thinks people like you and the preacher are pokin' in where you don't belong. He said there'd be trouble, if'n you didn't tend to your own business.”

“Do you think a lot of people feel that way?” Christy asked.

“Reckon so. It's just the way folks is, Miz Christy. They get set in their ways, and they don't like gettin' un-set, if you follow my meanin'. Preacher, he's maybe goin' too fast . . . not that I got any right to say.”

Christy leaned back against the rough, cool wood of the wall. She pointed to Ruby Mae's diary and smiled. “I was writing in my diary, too.”

“What did you say?” Ruby Mae asked. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oops. I forgot how they're private-like. You don't have to tell me. But I'll tell you mine. I was writin' how when I'm here with Prince, it seems like the whole rest of the world can just float away, for all I care. I was writin' about this place we go to, over past Blackberry Creek. There's a spot—a cave, like—where we just sit and watch the world a-spinnin', and I think actual thoughts sometimes.”

Christy smiled. “Actual thoughts? I'm very impressed.”

“I mean, I know I ain't no John Spencer or Rob Allen or nothin'.” She laughed. “My step-pa says I have chicken feathers for brains. But still, I think sometimes.” She hesitated. “You think someone as all-fired smart as Rob could ever hanker after someone with feathers for brains?”

“Of course he could. But don't you ever say that about yourself, Ruby Mae. I've probably learned as much about the Cove from you as I have from Miss Alice.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. Of course, I wouldn't mind if you paid a little more attention to your studies and chores and a little less attention to Prince.”

“But can't you see why?” Ruby Mae asked. She hugged Prince's neck. “Isn't bein' here just the plumb best place in the whole world? Christy nodded. “You're right. It just may be.”

Using Prince's broad back for a pillow, Ruby Mae stretched out in the hay. Christy joined her, and together they covered themselves with the scratchy, horse-smelling blanket. The little window on the far wall gave them a tiny square of sky to look at.

“Peaceful-like, ain't it?” Ruby Mae whispered. Staring up at the little patch of star-studded sky, it did seem peaceful. Guns and moonshine and anger seemed very, very far away indeed. Christy rested her cheek on Prince's warm, soft back, and let herself drift into a restless sleep.

“Ruby Mae, could you come over here, please?” Christy called the next afternoon. Recess was over, and the children were reluctantly heading back into the classroom.

They all had a bad case of spring fever, Christy had decided. She'd had a hard time getting anyone to pay attention to her lesson on the American Revolution that morning. There had been a lot of daydreaming going on. Still, no one seemed to be shirking schoolwork more than Ruby Mae. And Christy had a feeling it wasn't the fine early spring weather that was the culprit. It was a certain black stallion by the name of Prince.

“Yes, Miz Christy?” Ruby Mae called. She and Rob Allen were sauntering toward the school. Ruby Mae's cheeks were flushed, and she was grinning from ear to ear.

Well
, Christy thought,
maybe Prince isn't the only distraction in Ruby Mae's life.

“I need to talk to you for a minute, Ruby Mae,” Christy said. “Privately.”

Rob cleared his throat. “I'll head on inside,” he said quickly, giving Ruby Mae a shy smile.

Christy led Ruby Mae away from the school into the cool shade of a large oak.

“Don't he just have the cutest little dimples you ever did see?” Ruby Mae asked.

“Ruby Mae,” Christy said, “we need to talk. I graded your history test during recess. And it was not a pretty sight. Did you even read the assignment I gave the class?”

Ruby Mae gulped. “I sort of . . . shinnied over it, quick-like. Truth to tell, it was dull as dishwater.”

Christy leaned against the oak, her arms crossed over her chest. “Speaking of dishwater, Miss Ida told me you shinnied over the breakfast dishes this morning, too.”

“I was groomin' Prince. He ain't had a proper hoof-pickin' in days. Stones get caught in there, and it hurts somethin' fierce if'n—”

“Ruby Mae, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take away your riding privileges for a while. For the next few weeks, David will take care of Prince, until your grades improve and you start paying attention to your chores.”

“But—but you just can't take away Prince, Miz Christy!” Ruby Mae cried, so loudly that some of the students peered out the windows to see what all the commotion was about. “He's the most important thing in the world to me! I promise I'll work on my grades and read my history, even if it is borin'. And I'll do my chores proper-like. Only you just can't take Prince away from me! I'll like to die if'n you do.”

Christy touched Ruby Mae's shoulder, but the girl yanked away angrily. “It's not forever, Ruby Mae. Just for a little while. It's for your own good. Miss Alice and David and I discussed it this morning.”

“What do you-all know about my own good?” Ruby Mae screamed. Tears streamed down her freckled cheeks. “Prince needs me. And I need him! You . . . you saw how it was, last night. I thought you understood.”

“I do understand,” Christy said gently. “It isn't like he's going away, Ruby Mae. He'll be right here at the mission, if you want to say hello.” She sighed. “I'm sorry to have to do this, Ruby Mae, but the sooner you get back on track, the sooner you can spend time with Prince again.”

Ruby Mae stared at her in disbelief, her eyes glistening with tears. She opened her mouth, as if to argue, then gave up, spun on her heel and dashed into the school.

“What's with Ruby Mae?”

Christy turned to see David, crossing the lawn with his usual long, determined stride. He was carrying the textbook he used for the math class he taught in the afternoon.

“She's furious about our decision. Poor thing. I feel so badly for her. But she's got to keep up with her schoolwork.” Christy shook her head. “It's hard, being the disciplinarian. Just a few months ago, my parents were telling me what to do—trying, anyway. I'm not used to being the bad guy.”

“Then you can imagine how I felt yesterday, telling my whole congregation to stop doing something that they insist is their God-given right.” David gazed back at the mission house. “The doctor and I had another argument this morning. He insisted I shouldn't have given that sermon. And that the reception it got shouldn't have surprised me.”

“And what did you say?” Christy asked.

“I told him to mind his own business—”

“To which he said, you should be minding yours,” Christy finished his explanation.

David gave a grim smile. “You do know how the doctor's mind works, don't you?”

“Yes.” Christy laughed.

Just then, she heard a low grunt coming from the rear of the school. One of the hogs who resided under the building sauntered out into the sunshine, making its way along the side of the school.

“Looks like Mabel's up from her nap,” Christy said, pointing to the big hog.

“Mabel?”

“Creed Allen named her. Says she looks like his Great-aunt Mabel over in Big Gap— except for the tail, of course.”

“I'll wager that Mabel's the only one who heard my sermon yesterday and didn't mind it.”

“
I
thought it was a very fine sermon,” Christy said.

“Thanks—” David began, then paused. “Am I crazy, or is that hog walking a bit oddly?”

They watched as Mabel took a few faltering steps. She was walking on a slant, as if she were fighting a stiff wind.

“Very strange,” Christy murmured. “Maybe she's sick. Let's go check it out.”

As they approached the side of the school, Christy noticed an intense, almost sickeningly sweet, medicine-like odor. Toward the back of the building, she stumbled over a broken jug. Nearby were several hogs, stretched out asleep—
very
asleep. As Christy and David approached, they did not stir. They were breathing heavily.

David stared at the pigs. He gently poked first one and then another with his foot, but they just kept snoring.

“This is very odd,” Christy said. The hogs never slept this soundly. Usually, she could hear them snuffling and rooting around under the building while she taught.

“I don't get it.” David stooped to look under the floor. “It's almost too dark to see anything. I'll have to go in under there.”

He crouched over, slowly making his way under the building. Christy could hear his fingers groping, then some boards being moved.

Suddenly he gave a loud whistle. “Christy, you should see this!” David cried, his voice filled with amazement and anger.