Against that, there may be the chance to do wonderful work, right here in Asheville. Thanks to mother’s offer, I could even keep Ruby Mae with me. But what about David? And Neil?
David and Neil think I will be influenced by the comforts of home. And I must admit, if I am honest, that I do enjoy those comforts. But I hope I can set aside such unworthy considerations and find the way to do God’s will.
I feel as if I am caught up in a tornado, being spun wildly around with David and Neil and Lance; with the poor children of Cutter Gap, and the poor children of Asheville; with my parents, and Miss Alice and Fairlight; and, yes, with my warm, comfortable room.
It’s all too much. I pray that God will show me the way, because I am unable to find it alone.
Eleven
It may interest you to know, Reverend, that the bells in our steeple were cast by the same foundry that fashioned the Liberty Bell.” Mr. Barclay, Lance’s father, had David by the arm and was showing him around the church. They were waiting for all the members of the businessmen’s association to assemble in a meeting room off the church.
Lance was with them, too. Christy was careful to avoid seeming friendly to either David or Lance. The last thing she needed was to have either man feeling jealous.
“We have almost fifteen hundred in our congregation now,” Mr. Barclay said. “Many of the most prominent citizens of Asheville. You’ll meet some wealthy and influential men here tonight.”
Christy felt a little sorry for David. Mr. Barclay was justly proud of the church, but she worried that David might be feeling a little overwhelmed.
“That must be an awesome burden for your pastor,” David said. “Our congregation is quite a bit smaller. In fact, I believe we could fit most of them in the first two pews of this church and have room left over.”
“Don’t you find it frustrating sometimes, having so small a flock, when you are obviously such a bright and energetic young man?” Mr. Barclay asked. “There’s always a place for a smart fellow like yourself here.”
“I feel that God led me to do His work at the Cutter Gap mission, Mr. Barclay.” David laughed easily. “Perhaps the Lord has a less complimentary opinion of my abilities than you have.”
“In any event,” Lance said smoothly, “no congregation could ever seem poor that had Miss Huddleston as a member.” He gave a little bow in Christy’s direction.
“Indeed,” David agreed, a little frostily.
Christy pretended not to have heard either man.
Besides, her thoughts were on more serious matters. She was troubled by David’s easy confidence that he was doing the right thing by staying at the mission. How could David be so sure of his calling? She wished she could be that confident.
Christy looked around at the church. She had been baptized in this church. She had first taken Holy Communion in this church.
She thought of the church in the mountains. It was easy to recall every detail, since it was also her schoolroom. The altar was her desk. The pews were supplemented with her student’s desks. And the hogs snorted in the mud beneath the building on Sundays, the same as every other day.
“I believe we are about ready, Christy,” Lance said, breaking into her thoughts.
“Oh. I’m sorry, I guess I was daydreaming.” “Now, don’t be nervous,” Mr. Barclay counseled. “These men all want to hear what you and Reverend Grantland have to say. You know that we hope to reach out to our own poor, right here in Asheville. You two are the experts, so we’ll listen very carefully.”
The meeting consisted of almost a hundred men, all wearing conservative business suits and looking rather intimidating. After David spoke for a few minutes, explaining the purpose of the mission and its importance to the mountain folk, it was Christy’s turn. She said a quick, silent prayer, then walked shakily to the podium.
She faced a sea of whiskers and waistcoats and skeptical looks. Then she saw Lance’s face. He smiled encouragingly. And David gave her a little wink.
“Gentlemen, my name is Christy Huddleston. I suppose some of you know my family. We—”
“Speak up!” someone yelled out. “I can’t hear her.”
In a louder voice, Christy went on. “My name is Christy Huddleston. I am the teacher at the mission school of Cutter Gap. We have sixty-seven students, all in one classroom. I teach all the subjects except math and Bible studies, which Reverend Grantland takes care of. The students range across all ages. Some are almost as old as I am. A few had some schooling before the mission opened. Others had very little or none at all.”
For ten minutes Christy told them all she could think of about the school and the students. But soon she began to wonder whether she was simply rambling on. She faltered.
“I . . . I don’t know what else I can tell you,” she said.
An old gentleman raised his voice. “Do you think that similar schools, combining all sorts of different students, could be made to work in other places?”
Christy shrugged. “I’m sure they could. I believe that most children want to learn, given the chance. It’s not just a matter of having new books and desks and fine buildings . . . although we could certainly use those,” she added with a self-conscious laugh. “But the truly important thing is simply to give the children the chance to learn. They will seldom disappoint you.”
Mr. Barclay stood and joined her on the podium. “As you know, Miss Huddleston, we’ve been discussing the possibility of establishing a sort of mission to the many poor and uneducated families that have come to Asheville to work in the mills. Many have come down from the mountains in search of work. Others are from foreign countries and speak very little English. They need medical care and a school for their children.”
“Yes, I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” Christy said enthusiastically.
“We have already put up a school building.
But a school needs more than a building and desks. More, even, than students, be they ever so willing to learn. A school needs a teacher.”
Christy tried to keep a smile plastered on her face. She knew what was coming next. She caught David’s eye and could tell that he was filled with concern.
“A school needs a teacher,” Mr. Barclay repeated. “One with experience in doing a great deal with very little. A teacher accustomed to working almost alone. A teacher with experience in large classrooms full of diverse children. In short, Miss Huddleston, what our school needs is you.”
After the meeting was over, David and Christy walked back to her parents’ home.
For a while, they were silent. Christy tried not to think, but simply enjoy the evening, as lights came on in the windows of the houses they passed and street lights glowed yellow. A mix of automobiles and horse-drawn wagons passed, dodging around the careening streetcars. Other couples were out walking as well. They would smile politely, the gentlemen tipping their hats. The moon was just appearing in a violet sky.
“I suppose I’ll have to consider how the mission will replace you,” David said at last. He sounded tense and clipped.
“What?” Christy said in surprise.
“I need to consider finding a teacher to replace you,” David said. “I assume you will accept their offer.”
“Well, I don’t assume any such thing,” Christy said.
“Nonsense,” David said with surprising force. “The offer has everything in its favor. You would have a beautiful new classroom. Those gentlemen will see that you have all the school books and supplies you could ever want. No more sharing battered books with half the pages gone. No more worrying that you’ll run out of everything. No more hostile, suspicious community. No more dealing with superstition and foolishness. No more hogs under the classroom.”
“Do you honestly believe I would be swayed by new books?”
David smiled crookedly. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t think you could be swayed by a promise of new books. But I think you could be swayed by the chance to do important work, while being close to your fam
ily and friends.”
“David, I don’t know what to do,” Christy admitted.
“You would be rid of me, if you stayed here.”
Christy stopped walking. She put her hand on David’s arm. “David, whatever I do, you have to know one thing—I have no desire to be rid of you.”
“Really?” he asked. “You turned down my offer of marriage, after all.”
“That was for other reasons,” Christy said. “And I never said no. I just said I wasn’t ready.”
“And now you are ready to return to Asheville,” he said bitterly.
“David, I just don’t know. I . . . I felt that God led me to Cutter Gap. Might He not be leading me back here now?” David hung his head. “I’ve wondered that same thing,” he admitted. “Is this your true mission? To be here and help the community where you grew up? To do God’s work and still have your family around you?” He shook his head. “There’s no doubt that this school for the mill workers is a wonderful idea. And there’s no doubt that you would be the best possible teacher they could ever hope to have. Am I just putting my own selfish interests ahead of God’s will?”
“How can I know what is right?” Christy pleaded with him. “Tell me, David, and I will do whatever you decide.”
David laughed gently. “No, Christy. It’s not my decision to make, much as I would like to have you return with me to Cutter Gap. It is your decision. God will guide you.”
Christy looked off toward the west. The sun had set behind the Blue Ridge Mountains, turning them into a dark silhouette. They seemed so far away, so alien.
It would be cold at the mission right now. If she were there, she would be grading papers, squinting in the dim light of the tiny lamp she allowed herself. There would be no big roaring fire, just a small one on the coldest nights. The shadows in the trees would be close about, isolating the mission. She would go to her lumpy, cold, bed and listen to the wind and the howls of distant wolves. And she would never be sure that she was safe from the dangerous moonshiners who plied their trade in the night.
Here there was light. Light, everywhere she looked. Her mother would have a late supper of roast beef and fresh-baked bread and sharp cheese waiting for her when she got home. Afterward, they would sit by a cheery fire and read or talk. And then she would go up to a feather bed, secure and peaceful.
Was it necessary to suffer in order to do good? No, that was vanity. The children of the mill workers needed a teacher just as much as the children of the mountains.
David had said that God would give her guidance. She hoped he was right. Tomorrow morning they were all to take the train back to El Pano, and then it would be on to Cutter Gap.
Whatever she decided to do, she would be on that train. The school year was not over yet. And she would at least have to say goodbye.
Twelve
Christy was awake long before dawn. In fact, she had been lying awake in bed for hours by the time she heard a distant rooster crow, signaling the rise of the sun.
She had prayed many times for an answer to her dilemma. But she still felt uncertain and unsettled. One way or the other, she knew she would be getting on the train to El Pano with the others. Whatever her decision was, she had to return to Cutter Gap, even if it was only to get her things and say goodbye.
While she waited for the rest of the household to awaken, she packed her bags. When she smelled the familiar aromas of coffee and biscuits coming up the stairs, she went down.
She found her mother and Ruby Mae in the kitchen. Ruby Mae was assisting in the preparation of a new batch of biscuits.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Christy’s mother said.
“Ruby Mae, are you learning your new duties? Does this mean you’ve decided to stay here?” Christy wondered aloud. Maybe Ruby Mae’s decision would help with her own.
“Oh, no, Miz Christy,” Ruby Mae said. “I was just a-learnin’ your mama’s recipe so I can fetch up a batch of these biscuits when I get back home. Won’t Miss Ida be surprised?”
“Yes, I suppose she will,” Christy said.
“I am very disappointed that Ruby Mae won’t be staying here,” Mrs. Huddleston said. “The house will seem so empty with both of you gone again.”
“Miz Christy will be back soon, though,” Ruby Mae said.
“Is that true, dear?” Mrs. Huddleston asked eagerly.
Christy was flustered. “Ruby Mae, I haven’t decided whether that’s true or not.” She looked helplessly at her mother. “I’m sorry, Mother. But I’m still not sure. I just don’t know.”
“Whatever you decide, your father and I will support you,” she said. “But of course you know how we feel. It would mean everything to us to have you back home.”
“Yes, Mother, I know.”
Just then, Christy’s father entered, followed by David and Neil. The three of them stood stock still and stared expectantly at Christy.
“I don’t know!” she said, exploding in frustration.
“Now, everyone leave Christy alone,” Mrs. Huddleston said. “There are hot biscuits and coffee. Eggs and ham will be along in a moment or two.”
“I’ll have to make do with just a biscuit, I’m afraid,” Doctor MacNeill said. “I’ve got to get over to the hospital to make sure Bessie’s ready.”
“I’ll come with you,” Christy said quickly.
“No need,” the doctor said. “She’s no longer to be your concern, is she?”
Christy felt anger rising in her. Everyone seemed so sure that she’d already made her decision. She followed the doctor out into the parlor, out of hearing of the others. “I have not decided yet, Neil. And as of this moment, Bessie Coburn is still my responsibility as much as yours.”
“Responsibility? That’s rich, coming from you. A responsibility is something you can’t just walk away from.”
Christy tried to rein in her anger. The doctor always seemed to bring out the worst in her. “Neil, you’re a doctor, and so you have certain responsibilities. If you were faced with a choice between helping a patient you knew for certain could be saved, or helping a patient who might be beyond help, what would you do?”
The doctor fidgeted and looked away. “Are you telling me you think the Cutter Gap mission may really have to shut down?”
“I don’t know,” Christy said. “Miss Alice never seems to worry. David is concerned, I think. I had hoped to get some contributions from my church here in Asheville. But now it seems they have their own mission to support.”
The doctor was silent for a moment. At last he said, “The answer to your question, Christy, is that if I had to choose between helping those who can be helped and those who can’t, I’d have to help those who can be helped. But,” he added, “I’d first make very certain that someone was beyond help, before I would walk away.”
“Even if the Cutter Gap mission survives, why choose to do my work there, rather than here? I am needed just as much here. What if it turned out, Doctor, that both your patients could be helped, but you only had the time and ability to help one?” Christy searched his face, as if he might really have the answer.
The doctor smiled. “I guess sometimes you just do the best you can and pray.”
He’d said it as a sort of joke. Christy knew that the doctor did not pray. Or at least, if he did, he denied doing so. And yet his answer was perfect.
“Do the best you can and pray,” Christy repeated softly.
Christy wiped tears from her eyes as the train pulled away from the Asheville station. She waved through the window to her parents, who stood on the platform.
Bessie Coburn was sitting across the aisle with Ruby Mae. Ruby Mae was busily telling Bessie all about Asheville and automobiles and the Huddlestons’ fine house.
“I missed out on everything,” Bessie complained. “Although I reckon just being rid of that terrible pain is enough for me. I feel so good I could run all the way back to Cutter Gap!”
“No running, Bessie,” Doctor MacNeill said sternly. “Not f
or at least a month. If I find out you’ve been doing any running, jumping, skipping, or heavy chores, and you ruin my beautiful stitches, I warn you, I will not be happy.”
Bessie grinned. “I would never do nothing to ruin your stitchwork, Doctor. Why, it’s almost as fine as my mama’s quilting.”
“What?” David said in mock horror. “Only ‘almost’? Doctor MacNeill, running second place to Lety Coburn’s quilting stitches?”
Christy smiled, despite herself. The train picked up speed, and soon she could feel the drag of gravity as they began to climb back up the mountains. Soon they were high on the mountain’s side, crawling along the narrow ledge above a precipice.
“We’ll be home soon,” Ruby Mae said to Bessie.
“Home,” Bessie agreed. “Traveling is good, but home is best. Isn’t that right, Miz Christy?”
“Yes, it is,” Christy said. She sent Bessie a smile. But then her face darkened again. Yes, home was best, she thought. But she wasn’t going home, she was leaving home. Again. Her home was behind her. Her friends, her family, all back in Asheville.
What was she to do?
Do the best you can and pray. The doctor’s words came back to her.
Christy closed her eyes. She tried to shut out the sounds of conversation all around her. She tried to quiet the voices of her own will, her own demands. What am I to do? How am I to choose between home and Cutter Gap?
She opened her eyes. She looked across the aisle at Bessie and Ruby Mae gossiping. Ruby Mae was dressed once again in her own simple, homespun hand-me-downs.
Christy looked at David. He was deep in thought. His handsome face was clouded with concern, and she knew all the reasons for his worry. Would the mission survive? Would Christy stay or go?
Then she looked at the doctor. He was reading a medical journal and trying to look nonchalant. But his eyes weren’t on the pages. He was staring blankly out at the sheer drop below.
Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice Page 22
