When the room grew hushed, Christy knew that David was about to start his sermon. She heard his steady footsteps as he walked to the small pulpit. “The preacher’s a-comin,” whispered Mountie, who was sitting next to Christy on the hard wooden bench. She was serving as an extra pair of eyes for Christy, informing her about what was happening in the room.
“That’s my son,” Christy heard Mrs. Grantland whisper in a pew behind her.
The memory of her hurtful words came back to Christy. You can’t possibly be thinking of marrying her now, David.
They were strong, blunt words. Words that stung. At first, they had made Christy want to cry. But now, surrounded by her friends, she began to feel angry.
What kind of a wife would a blind woman make?
“Hebrews, 11:1,” David began in his clear, strong voice. “‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’” He paused. “‘The evidence of things not seen.’ What does that mean? What does that mean to each of us as we struggle through the trials of life?”
Christy listened intently. Somehow she felt as if David were speaking directly to her.
“There are many ways of seeing,” he continued. “We can see with our eyes, of course. But that doesn’t begin to paint the whole picture. Even the most perfect, shiny apple can have a worm inside. So how else can we see?”
Christy heard steps, and she knew that David was moving down the aisle that separated the men and women. He liked to move among the congregation as he spoke to them.
“We can ‘see’ with our other senses, too,” David continued. “We can hear and smell and taste and touch, but we’re never going to know the true nature of a thing that way. Sight can blur. Hearing can go bad. You have only to look at Jeb Spencer’s old coon dog, Magic, to know that. Jeb tells me that hound couldn’t sniff out a skunk in a patch of pokeweed.” The room broke into laughter. “No, only the heart can detect the evidence of things not seen.”
He paused. Christy could tell he was only a few feet away, near the end of her bench.
“We cannot touch faith. We can’t see it with our eyes, or hear it with our ears. But we can know it, as sure and solid as the earth beneath our feet, if we use our hearts.”
David’s voice wavered. “You don’t need eyes to have faith. You don’t need anything but a good and loving and open heart.”
Christy felt Mountie’s small fingers lace into hers. When Christy had started teaching, Mountie had barely spoken more than a few garbled words. She’d had a terrible speech problem, and the taunts of her classmates had left her almost mute. But a tiny gesture of caring from Christy—sewing a few old buttons onto Mountie’s worn and tattered coat— had been the beginning of a miraculous change.
“We can see the world in a whole new way,” David said softly, “when we use our hearts, instead of our eyes.”
Soon the room was full of song again. Amazing grace, they sang, in that boisterous, full-of-life way they had. Christy sang, too, letting the words move her.
Slowly, other words came back to her— Miss Alice’s words. You will teach again, when you are ready.
For the first time since her accident, Christy felt a glimmer of hope. What kind of a wife would she make? What kind of teacher? What kind of person?
She wasn’t sure, but she knew she wanted to find out.
Eight
I must say that was a fine sermon,” Mrs. Grantland said that evening at the dinner table. “Although the circumstances left a great deal to be desired. I don’t know how you do it, David, dear. The primitive conditions! I mean, really. Pigs living under the floor!”
“Them’s hogs, Miz Grantland,” Ruby Mae corrected.
“Thank you for clearing that up.”
Christy smiled. All through dinner, Mrs. Grantland had been talking that way. Poor David! Christy didn’t know how he managed to keep his tongue. The only time he’d lashed out was when Mrs. Grantland had suggested Christy might be more “comfortable” eating in her room, where she could make a mess without being embarrassed.
It hadn’t even bothered Christy. Ever since church that morning, she’d been filled with a sense of hope and resolve.
“And the smells!” Mrs. Grantland continued. “I thought I was going to faint. Thank goodness I had my perfumed hankie with me.”
“You get used to it after a while, Mother,”
Miss Ida said.
“Goodness, me! I certainly hope not, dear. I keep telling David he needs a ministry back home in Richmond. He belongs in a big, fine church with a congregation that understands what he’s saying. A church without any tobacco spitting or mangy dogs or pigs.”
“Hogs, ma’am,” Ruby Mae corrected again. “The congregation here may not be the best dressed or the most educated, Mrs. Grantland,” said Miss Alice, “but you can be certain they understand and respect David. He’s made great strides since coming here to Cutter Gap.”
“But don’t the souls in Richmond deserve saving just as much as the ones here?” Mrs. Grantland persisted.
“I believe the Lord’s work can be done anywhere,” Miss Alice said. Christy could hear the edge in her voice. It was the tone Miss Alice reserved for a wayward child.
“This is my calling, Mother,” David said. “I belong here in Cutter Gap.”
“Nonsense!” Mrs. Grantland cried. “You belong where you’ll be properly appreciated.”
“Isn’t it really . . .” Christy paused. She felt strange, interrupting a conversation when she couldn’t see the participants. “Isn’t it David’s choice, Mrs. Grantland? My parents weren’t eager for me to come here, but in the end, they understood how important it was to me.”
“Indeed. And look what happened to you.” Christy took a deep breath. “Still, I don’t regret coming here. I’ve made so many friends—”
“I’m afraid,” Mrs. Grantland interrupted, “that may be David’s problem.”
“And what problem is that, Mother?” David inquired.
“Oh, you know. Friends can keep you rooted to a place when it’s time to move on.” Christy had the strange feeling that Mrs. Grantland was looking right at her.
“Well,” Miss Ida said after a moment of awkward silence, “I think it’s time for me to clear the plates.”
“I’ll help,” David said quickly.
“No, let me,” said Miss Alice.
“Me, too,” Ruby Mae chimed in.
“All of you stay put,” Mrs. Grantland commanded. “There’s something I must do. I’ve brought you all gifts.”
“Presents!” Ruby Mae cried.
Christy could hear Mrs. Grantland swish across the dining room. She always seemed to move in great, flowing movements that made Christy think of an actress dashing across a stage.
“It was so hard to know what to bring,” Mrs. Grantland said. “Now I see I could have brought everything but the kitchen sink. You do have a kitchen sink, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mother,” Miss Ida said, laughing.
“And a proper pump right outside,” Ruby Mae added.
“Haven’t you people heard of indoor plumbing?”
“We have, Mother,” David replied. “But we think it’s more fun tromping out into the yard in sub-zero temperatures to get a bucket of near-frozen water. It builds character.”
“Don’t you get sassy with your own mother,” Mrs. Grantland chided, but it was clear she was laughing, too.
“This was very generous of you, Mother,” David said.
“Oh, you know me. Any excuse to shop.”
Christy heard the clasps of a trunk pop open, then the rustle of paper.
“I’ve brought plenty of books and magazines, of course,” Mrs. Grantland began.
“Books!” Christy exclaimed. “That’s wonderful! You have no idea how desperate the school is for reading material.”
It occurred to her with a sudden pang that she might never again read another book. No, she told herself firmly. No more thinking like that.
&
nbsp; “And I brought these for the mission house,” Mrs. Grantland said.
Ruby Mae gasped. “Those gotta be the biggest diamonds in the world!”
“Actually, they’re crystal, Ruby Mae,” said Miss Alice. “Beautiful crystal candlesticks.”
“They seem silly now,” Mrs. Grantland said, for the first time sounding a little less sure of herself. “With all you need . . .”
“Quite the contrary,” Miss Alice said gently. “They’re a reminder of all the beauty in the world. A touch of magic. Thank you, Mrs. Grantland. It was very kind of you.”
“And for Ida, a new dress. Goodness knows you need one.”
“Oh, Mother! It’s beautiful,” Ida exclaimed. “It’s all shiny and blue with little stripes and bows and such,” Ruby Mae whispered to Christy.
Mrs. Grantland placed a hand on Christy’s shoulder. “And for you and Ruby Mae, I brought these lovely hats.”
“For me?” Ruby Mae screeched. Christy felt the table jiggle as Ruby Mae leapt out of her chair. “You ain’t havin’ fun with me, are you, Mrs. Grantland?”
Mrs. Grantland laughed. “Of course not. Here. Try it on. And here’s yours, Miss Huddleston.”
“Please, call me Christy.” Christy accepted the hat. She could feel the straw edges. Around the brim were what felt like little silk roses.
“They’re all a-covered with these pretend flowers, Miz Christy,” Ruby Mae cried with excitement. “Sort of a pinkish color, like the sun when it’s just comin’ up.” She paused. “Miz Grantland, I don’t know if this would be rightly proper, considerin’ that you’re a preacher’s mama and all, but would it be all right if I gave you a hug to say thank you kindly?”
“That’s all right, dear—” Mrs. Grantland began, but David interrupted.
“Sure, Ruby Mae,” he said. “Go on and give Mother a hug. Sort of an official welcome to Cutter Gap.”
Christy heard footsteps, a rustle of skirts, then a slight ugh as Ruby Mae squeezed Mrs. Grantland.
“Miz Christy, ain’t you goin’ to try yours on?” Ruby Mae asked.
Carefully Christy placed the hat on her head. “I wish you could see how purty it looks!” Ruby Mae said.
Christy pulled off the hat and set it on the floor. “Thank you, Mrs. Grantland. That was very thoughtful of you.”
“I hope it . . . I mean, if I’d known about your injury, perhaps I might have brought something more appropriate.”
“Just because she’s blind don’t mean Miz Christy can’t wear purty things,” Ruby Mae pointed out.
“Of course not,” Mrs. Grantland said, her voice softening a little, “I only meant . . .”
She paused, rummaging around in her trunk. “Anyway, last, but not least—for David, a new suit. From Whitman’s in Richmond. Remember that tailor your father always used? I do hope you haven’t lost so much weight you can’t wear it.”
“It’s wonderful, Mother,” David said. “Very impressive. And there are fine seamstresses here in the Cove who can alter it if need be. Thank you.”
“It seems a little silly,” Mrs. Grantland said with a sigh. “You could wear overalls to give your sermon and who would notice? That suit would be much better suited to a ministry back home.”
David was silent. Miss Ida cleared her throat. “Well, now that the gift-giving is over, I suppose we should get down to work, Christy,” Miss Alice said at last. “That is, if you’re feeling up to it. David and I want to go over your lesson plans. We’re going to need to divide up the teaching work load. I expect we’ll have to cut back quite a bit on school. Perhaps we’ll shorten the school days so we can keep up with our other duties.”
Christy let the words sink in. Divide up the teaching work load. Giving up her teaching duties felt like giving away part of herself. She felt a decision brewing, like a bubble in a pond slowly rising to the surface.
“You know, Mother was a teacher for many years,” David said. Christy could almost hear the smile on his face. “Perhaps she wouldn’t mind helping out a bit.”
“David!” Mrs. Grantland objected. “I simply couldn’t. I haven’t set foot in a classroom in years. And those were civilized children— well-bred, with manners.”
“What do you think about it, Christy?” David asked.
“In my experience,” Christy said thoughtfully, “children are children, no matter where you go.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it,” Mrs. Grantland said. “Sorry, David. You’ll just have to recruit someone else. After all, you’ll need to find a permanent replacement, anyway.”
The room fell silent. The only sound was the clink of silverware as Ruby Mae finished her pie.
“I have an announcement to make,” Christy said. Even as she slowly stood, she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say. But she felt something in her heart, urging her to speak.
“There won’t be any need for a new teacher,” Christy finally said. “Or for Miss Alice and David to divide up my teaching duties. I am going to continue teaching, as I always have. And I don’t want any argument from anyone about this.”
“Yahoo!” Ruby Mae cried.
“And there’s one other thing,” Christy added as the words rushed out. “David and I will be staying here in Cutter Gap permanently. As man and wife.”
First, Christy heard gasps.
Then she heard a sigh.
Then she heard a very loud thud.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Miz Grantland,” Ruby Mae replied. “She done took the news a little hard. She’s plumb fainted straight away!”
Nine
How’s your mother?” Christy asked David a few minutes later.
“Miss Alice is tending to her on the couch. You’ll have to forgive Mother. I told you she takes things very seriously.” David sat down at the dining-room table with Christy. She could hear Ruby Mae and Miss Ida in the kitchen, talking in shocked whispers.
“Apparently I’ve caused quite a sensation,” Christy said.
“You certainly have where I’m concerned.
I’m not going to ask you why you made this decision,” David said. “I’m only going to tell you how very glad you’ve made me.”
“I’ll tell you, anyway,” Christy replied with a smile. “It was your sermon today. Listening to you, I realized that even if I have lost my sight forever, I can still be a teacher or a wife. I don’t have to give up on my dreams. There are many ways to see. You’re right about that. And now I’m going to prove it.”
David fell silent for a moment. “So I’m a sort of experiment? Is that it?”
“No, no, not at all!” Christy cried. “It’s just that today, listening to your beautiful words, I realized how deep my feelings really are for you, David. You’re a strong and kind and gentle man, a good man.” She smiled shyly. “And of course, you’ve got an awfully cute smile.”
With trembling hands, David cupped Christy’s face and gently kissed her.
“Oh. Oh, my. Excuse me—” It was Miss Ida, sounding very embarrassed.
“It’s all right, Ida,” David said. “Come on in. I am allowed to kiss my fiancée, aren’t I?”
“Miss Ida,” Christy said, “I’m so glad that we’re going to practically be sisters.”
“Welcome to the Grantland family,” Miss Ida said stiffly, and then Christy heard her march off.
“Don’t worry,” David said. “She’ll warm up to the idea.”
“But she knows me,” Christy said. “If Miss Ida’s that set against it, how will I ever win over your mother?”
“With your incredible charm,” David teased.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Christy said.
“Why did you suggest she take my place teaching, anyway? Wasn’t it obvious what she’d say?”
“Wishful thinking. I suppose I was hoping that if she got to know the students, she’d see why we love it here so.”
“It’s hard to imagine her having the patience to teach.”
“Actually, she wa
s quite good at it. But after my father died, she just sort of closed herself off. I know it’s hard to believe, but she used to be much more . . . tolerant.” David sighed. “I’d better go check on her. Want to come?”
“You think she can handle the strain?”
David took Christy’s hand. They settled in the living room on two chairs across from the couch. “How are you feeling, Mother?” David asked.
“She’ll be back to normal in no time,” Miss Alice said.
“I’ll be fine, with the grace of God,” Mrs. Grantland said in a quavery voice. “No thanks to you two.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Christy said.
“Miss Huddleston, my dear,” said Mrs. Grantland. “Come here.”
David helped Christy over to the couch, where Mrs. Grantland took her hand. “My dear girl, you must understand,” she said. “I have nothing against you personally. I’m sure you’re a fine girl. And I’m sure you’ll go far in this world, even with your . . . your problem. But David is my only son. And I have such high hopes for him. Plans, great plans. He belongs in the right place, with the right people.”
“You mean with Delia?” Christy asked with a smile.
Mrs. Grantland pulled away her hand. “As a matter of fact, I’ve always been very fond of Delia Manning. So refined and well-bred.
And such a beauty! But that’s not all I meant.
I meant David doesn’t belong here. Nor Ida.
Nor you and Miss Alice, I’ll wager. You’re all decent folk. This is no place for your kind.”
Someone knocked on the front door. “Come on in,” David called. He lowered his voice. “We can only pray that it’s decent folk.”
The door flew open. Evening air, scented with spring flowers, cooled the room.
Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice Page 12
