They crowded around Christy, chattering away at the same time.
“Christy, you have no idea what Terence Jones has been up to!”
“Christy, wait till I tell you what Martha Bates told me. You’ll just die !”
“Christy, you simply have to come with me to this wonderful new dress shop in the square. They have all the latest fashions from Paris and New York!”
“Christy, it’s so good to see you! Things just haven’t been the same around here without you. And it’s no secret that Lance Barclay has been missing you.”
“Christy, have you heard the newest music? They call it ragtime. My father simply cannot stand it!”
It was like being caught up in a whirlwind. Christy was surrounded by silk and crystal, taffeta and silver, lace and polished mahogany. Everyone’s hair was perfectly done up. Every face was clean and powdered. The air was filled with the scent of expensive perfume.
And then Christy happened to look down. She saw something that struck her as more noticeable than all the rest. Everyone was wearing shoes.
In the Cove, even many of the adults went around barefoot, whatever the weather.
Christy felt a pang of guilt. Suddenly, it seemed strange and wrong to be in a room filled with people wearing shoes.
She turned and looked for her friends. Her parents were nowhere in sight, but she soon located Neil and David and Ruby Mae. They were standing bunched together in a corner. The three of them looked simple and rugged and weatherbeaten.
Christy felt as if she were being pulled in two directions. Part of her wanted to rush back to her friends from Cutter Gap. But these other people were her friends, too. It would be ridiculous to ignore them, simply because they came from the city, rather than the mountains.
“Christy,” a new voice said.
She turned to see Lance Barclay, handsome as ever. “It really is you! And even more beautiful than I remembered.”
“Lance,” Christy said. She put out her hand to shake his. He took her hand, bowed, and gently kissed it.
“May I have the first dance?” he asked. “Unless, of course, you’ve already promised it to some other man.”
Christy was caught off guard. She hadn’t promised the first dance to anyone. “Um, no,” she said. “I mean, yes. No, I haven’t promised the first dance, and yes, I would be honored to save it for you.”
As if on cue, the music brightened suddenly into a waltz. The shifting groups of people moved toward the edges of the room, opening a large dance area in the middle of the room.
“Shall we?” Lance asked, still holding Christy’s hand.
Christy gave a little bow, then followed Lance out to the middle of the floor.
He truly was quite a handsome young man. His blond hair was perfectly combed. His smile was bright. His tuxedo was immaculately tailored.
Christy caught sight of David. He was standing to one side, looking severe and awkward in his dark suit. It was the same suit he wore on Sunday mornings when he preached. It was new, however. It had been a gift from his mother on her visit to Cutter Gap in May. David was watching Christy with an expression of shock.
Beside him, Neil seemed a trifle less awkward, but he looked even more out-of-place in his favorite tweed jacket. He was holding a glass and staring fixedly at the floor.
Christy felt a pang of regret. David had asked her to marry him. And even Neil had made his feelings for Christy known. It must look to the two men as if she had dumped them in a corner.
But following on the heels of her regret and guilt came a second feeling—resentment. Why should she have to worry about what David and Neil thought? Sometimes she felt as if she spent every minute of every day worrying about what people might think or say.
Every day in the Cove was a struggle to hold the respect of the suspicious mountain folk. Every day she had to worry about the feelings of dozens of difficult students in her class. Every day there were worries over money for school supplies, and worries about the diseases that stalked the mountains, and worries over the ever-present threat of moonshine-fueled violence. Worry, worry, worry! It seemed like a thousand years since she’d spent a worry-free night.
She was sick of worry. Tired of it. Wasn’t she entitled to some ease and comfort? Wasn’t she entitled to put on her best dress and dance?
Lance put his left arm around her waist and began to move with the music. Round and round they swirled.
And when the first dance was done, Christy accepted another with Lance. Between dances, they chatted with their Asheville friends about art, and poetry, and the traveling theater troupe that would be arriving soon to perform Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Lance asked her to go riding the next day, and she agreed.
It was late when the party began to break up. Christy found Ruby Mae in a corner, talking to a boy her own age.
“This here’s Thomas Wolfe,” Ruby Mae said. “Tom, this here’s my teacher, Miz Christy. I been a-tellin’ Tom all about folks in Cutter Gap,” she added.
“I’d love to hear more,” the boy said eagerly.
“But not tonight,” Christy said. “I think it’s rather late and we’d best all be getting home. Where are Reverend Grantland and Doctor MacNeill? Have you seen them?”
“Yes’m. They left some time back. Hours ago. I ’spect they were tuckered out. They both looked a might down.”
“They left?” Christy asked in alarm. “They both left?”
“Yes, Miz Christy. They said they was a-goin’ back to the house. They said I should remind you about Bessie having her operation tomorrow. If you was still interested.”
“They said that? The part about ‘if I was still interested’?”
“Yes,” Ruby Mae said. “Although, factually speaking, it was the doctor what said it, and the preacher, he just nodded his head.”
“As if I wouldn’t care about Bessie,” Christy said angrily. “Of course I’ll be there.”
Just then, Lance appeared at Christy’s side.
“You won’t forget our date to go riding tomorrow, will you?”
“Of course not, Lance. I’ll be there. Bessie’s operation is at eight in the morning. I’ll meet you at your stables at nine-thirty, just as we planned. That will leave plenty of time.”
Eight
I’m scared, Miz Christy,” Bessie Coburn said. “If it didn’t hurt so bad I wouldn’t let no one cut into me. No how, no way.”
Bessie was in her hospital bed, propped on starched white pillows. Her face looked pale and drawn. Her eyes were wide with fear. Ruby Mae and David stood nearby. David seemed unusually withdrawn to Christy— almost as if he were pouting.
“Do you reckon it hurts much when the doctor cuts into you?” Ruby Mae asked.
“Bessie won’t feel a thing, I’m sure,” Christy said. “The doctor will give you ether, Bessie, and you’ll simply fall asleep. When you wake up, you’ll start mending, and soon you’ll be your old self again.”
“Let’s hope we’ll all be our old selves again soon,” David muttered darkly.
“What did you say, Preacher?” Bessie asked. David sent Christy a sidelong look. “I was just making a comment about people being their old selves, Bessie. As opposed to turning into someone different, just because they happen to find themselves in a different circumstance.”
“I’m sure that would never happen to any of us,” Christy said to David.
“Happens all the time,” David said. “People change. Sometimes they change in the twinkling of an eye.”
“No one has changed, David,” Christy said with feeling. “Just because a person enjoys an evening relaxing and talking to old friends does not mean that person has changed.”
“Ruby Mae?” Bessie whispered. “What are they goin’ on about?”
“Miz Christy has herself a new beau,” Ruby Mae said. “His name is Lance and he’s about the handsomest—”
“Aha! See?” David said. “Do you hear what Ruby Mae is saying?”
Just then Doctor MacNei
ll came in. He was wearing a white cotton coat over his regular clothing. “So how’s the patient?” he asked Bessie.
“Hush, Doctor,” Bessie said, “we’re listenin’ to Miz Christy and the preacher fussing with each other.”
“We are not fussing with each other, Bessie,” Christy said. “Where did you ever get such an idea? We’re here to see you, and to keep you company.”
“And you should be glad of it, Bessie.” The doctor grinned. “Miss Huddleston has many demands on her time. It’s generous of her to be here at all.”
Christy was stung by the accusations of David and Neil. True, she had spent most of the previous evening with Lance and her old friends. But that was only normal, wasn’t it? She hadn’t seen any of them in a long time.
“Are you ready to start your operation, Doctor?” she asked. “Or are you too busy making unfair remarks about me?”
“No, I’m not ready,” the doctor said. “Doctor Mecklen, who’ll be assisting me, isn’t here yet. He had an emergency across town and will be delayed.”
“Delayed? For how long?” Christy asked.
“We should be able to start the operation by eight-thirty.” Doctor MacNeill narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why? Do you have a pressing engagement?”
Christy tried to look nonchalant. “I was supposed to go riding with . . . with a friend . . . at nine-thirty.”
“A friend!” David repeated. “A friend, indeed! I’ll wager you mean that Lance fellow.”
“The young man with the perfumed greasy hair?” Doctor MacNeill grinned again.
“That Miz Christy, she sure is something!” Ruby Mae said to Bessie. “Now she’s done got herself three fellers.”
“I have done no such thing!” Christy protested.
“It’s all right, Miz Christy,” Bessie said helpfully. “I’ll be fine, if you have to go meet your new sweetheart.”
“I do not have a new sweetheart,” Christy said as forcefully as she could. “Lance Barclay is just an old friend.”
“Is he kin to Granny Barclay?” Bessie asked. “That hardly seems likely, Bessie,” Christy said.
“On account of, see, Granny Barclay had a brother once what left Cutter Gap for the lowlands,” Bessie explained.
“The Barclays are a very successful, very well-respected family in Asheville,” Christy said. “I truly doubt they’re related to—” She stopped suddenly. But it was too late. The snobbish, thoughtless words were out of her mouth.
“You were about to say, Christy?” David asked.
Doctor MacNeill’s eyes had lost their twinkling amusement as he stared at Christy. “She was about to say that this powdered, pomaded, perfumed fellow Lance could hardly be related to a toothless old mountain woman who lives in a shack so tumbledown that Mr. Lance Barclay wouldn’t stable a horse in it.”
“That is not what I said, and it is certainly not what I meant,” Christy said. “You’re being unfair.”
“Oh, are we?” the doctor muttered.
“You’re embarrassed by us,” David said. “Embarrassed by all of us.”
“That is untrue!”
“Is it, Christy?” David asked. “Then answer this question. Back in the Cove, Fairlight Spencer is your closest friend. She’s a fine-looking woman, but she owns no more than two dresses, and both of them are faded and frayed. She owns only one old pair of shoes, and when she speaks, it’s the twang of the mountains you hear. And I very much doubt if she has an opinion on the Paris fashions. So, the question is, Christy, wouldn’t you have been embarrassed to have Fairlight at that party last night?”
The question cut like a knife. How would Jeanette Grady and Elizabeth Deerfield and the Bentley sisters have treated Fairlight? Politely to her face, yes. But behind her back wouldn’t they have tittered and smirked at her clothes and her hair and the way she spoke?
“Fairlight Spencer is my friend,” Christy said, “wherever I am, and whomever I’m with. And so are all of you. I’m sorry you think so little of me.”
“You’ll have to choose, you know,” the doctor said darkly. “Sooner or later, you’ll come to it. Are you a part of Cutter Gap and the mountains? Do you belong there? Truly belong? Or are you just a decent young woman, trying to do good among people you’ll always keep at arm’s length?”
For a while, no one spoke. The silence was finally broken by Doctor Mecklen’s arrival. Bessie had to be prepared for surgery and the two doctors had to go to the operating theater.
Christy waited in a small room with David and Ruby Mae.
They prayed silently for Bessie’s well-being. When they were done, Ruby Mae occupied herself looking through copies of Harper’s Bazaar. Occasionally she would mutter “Well, I never!” or “Land’s sakes!” at something she saw in the magazine.
After a while, David joined Christy on the wooden bench where she was seated. “You know, Christy, the doctor and I rarely agree on anything. But I have to admit, he has wisdom. I wonder if perhaps he is right. And . . .” He hesitated, as if uncertain of how to say what was in his heart. “I wonder if this isn’t why you said no to my proposal of marriage?”
“What do you mean?” Christy asked.
“Was it just me you were refusing? Or were you saying no to the whole idea of a life in Cutter Gap? I wonder.” He smiled wistfully. “I suppose I can’t help but wonder if your reply might have been different if I were the pastor of a church here in Asheville, rather than the minister for a tiny, struggling mission deep in the mountains.”
“Of course that wasn’t why I said no,” Christy said. She looked into David’s sad eyes. “David, I said no because I wasn’t ready to make so large a decision. I have to be sure about marriage. Absolutely sure.”
Doctor MacNeill appeared in the doorway. His white gown had smears of blood on it, but he was grinning. “Everything went perfectly. No problems at all. Bessie is fine. She’ll be a bit sore for a few days, but she’ll be good as new before you know it.”
“Thank the Lord,” David said.
“Yes, well, if I may say so, my technique had a little something to do with it,” Doctor MacNeill said with a grin. “And Doctor Mecklen’s as well.”
“Can we go in and see her?” Christy asked. “No, not yet. She won’t wake up for another hour or so. Then I’m sure she’ll want to see you.”
Christy glanced at the clock. Nine-fifteen. I should have left fifteen minutes ago, she thought. I gave my word to Lance, and he’ll be waiting for me at the stables. “I’m supposed to . . . I still have that appointment.”
“Ah. The appointment,” the doctor said teasingly.
“I gave my word that I would meet him at nine-thirty. It would be terribly rude of me to stand him up. You said Bessie wouldn’t be awake for an hour or so. I’ll be back by then.”
It made sense, Christy told herself. Despite the looks that David, Neil, and Ruby Mae were giving her, it did make sense. And yet, as she turned and walked from the room, a feeling of guilt pursued her.
Neil’s words echoed in her mind. You’ll have to choose, you know. Sooner or later, you’ll come to it. Are you a part of Cutter Gap and the mountains? Do you belong there? Truly belong?
Nine
Christy rushed back to her house to change into her riding clothes. By the time she got to the Barclays’ stables, she was fifteen minutes late for her meeting with Lance, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I’d happily wait for you all day,” he said. “How is the young lady doing?”
“Bessie? Oh, she came through the operation just fine,” Christy assured him. “But I’m afraid I can’t spend much time with you, Lance. I want to be there when she wakes up.”
“I understand perfectly,” he said. “I just wanted to ride a ways, and show you something I think will be of special interest to you.”
The horse stable was behind the Barclay home. It housed four horses. Once, back when Christy was still a child, it had held twice that number. But that was before so many people began to own autom
obiles.
“I don’t suppose you do much riding, up in the hills,” Lance said as they saddled their horses.
“Actually, the mission owns a beautiful black stallion we call Prince. I ride him from time to time. Though many of the trails are so steep and narrow that they can only be traveled on foot.”
“There are no roads, then?”
“Nothing that would be called a road here in Asheville,” Christy admitted. “The cabins are spread so far and wide that connecting them all by roads would be hopelessly expensive. I’m afraid there are many more pressing concerns for the mountain people. Shoes, coats, medicine, school books.”
She cinched the saddle tight. Lance came around to help her climb up. “I can manage, thank you,” she said.
Lance smiled. “You’ve become very independent since moving away.”
Christy swung easily up into the saddle. “I haven’t had much choice about that, I’m afraid. I have a classroom of sixty-seven children, ranging from the smallest to some so large they almost frighten me. I have to manage them every day. David . . . Mr. Grantland . . . helps out, as does Miss Alice Henderson from time to time. But generally, I’m on my own.”
Lance led the way out of the yard and down the road. “It worries me to think of you way back in those hills.” He nodded in the direction of the Blue Ridge Mountains, a tall line that swept down and around Asheville. They were close enough to see, but with only their gentle foothills touching the city itself.
“Poverty. Violence. Sickness. Danger,” Lance continued. “And no family and few friends for you to lean on in times of trouble.”
Christy looked toward the skyline and frowned. Yes, she thought, there was violence and sickness and danger in those beautiful mountains. “I’m needed there,” she said simply.
“I admire your feelings,” Lance said. “But have you ever considered how your parents must feel? I know that they worry about you all the time.”
Christy shifted uncomfortably. She had been expecting a simple, friendly ride. She’d imagined they would talk of old friends and good times. The conversation was taking a decidedly serious turn.
Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice Page 20
