Saying good-bye to my family was fairly painless. Miss Alice, Neil, and Margaret boarded the train as I said my farewells. I loved them and told them each as much. I lingered on my embraces with both my parents. Over the past year, while I was in Cutter Gap, they had become even more dear to me. I was certain my independence and lack of dependency on them earned me respect, which made it easier for me to communicate with them. Especially with my mother.
"All aboard!" the conductor yelled in a familiar fashion. He had a slight drawl to his tone, which fascinated me somehow.
"Be careful, Girlie," Daddy said, his smile tucked safely away in my memory forever.
"Write often," Mother added, touching my collar in a maternal way only a mother could manage. I smiled, knowing she would miss me. She did not say so then but I knew she would.
"Be good," George teased me. I grinned, despite my inner troubles, and ruffled his hair. I had to stretch to do that now, he had gotten so tall.
"Stop growing," I returned.
"Miss!" called a man from the stairs of the train.
I hardly was able to say another word before rushing to catch the train. The man pulled me onto the train as it began its slow start towards the Smoky Mountains. I got my balance, thanking him for his help before turning back to my family. They smiled encouragingly, a sight to remain in my mind all the way back to Cutter Gap. Their waves were synchronized and their unity amused me.
"Inside we go, Miss," the man said jovially, opening the door to the car for me. The train was picking up steam and it would have soon been too hard for us to stand outside. "Where is your seat?" he inquired. "I will help you find it."
I smiled graciously, as I knew my mother would want me to. "Thank you, sir, but I see my friends," I said cordially. "Good day."
Moving through the aisle of the train, I approached Neil and Alice and Margaret. The seats were two in a pair and faced each other. There being four of us, it was annoyingly perfect. I had wished for solitude on the way back to Cutter Gap.
As I approached, I felt like an intruder. They were family. I was not. In fact, I had only spoken courteous, detached words to Dr. MacNeill since fleeing like a coward from the garden.
Margaret moved over as I came to their seats. "I saved you this seat, Christy," Margaret said with a friendly smile. I returned it best that I could and sat next to her. Truth was, I was delighted we were getting along. She was a wonderful, kindhearted woman who had been hurt all her life. I repented to God, once more, for my close-minded jealousy and resentment towards her in the beginning.
"Thank you," I said.
"Thee does not look well."
I turned to Miss Alice, who was looking concerned. I noticed that Neil was not entirely thrilled that we were in such close quarters for several hours, either. At least I sat across from Miss Alice, and not the doctor. "I have had trouble sleeping lately," I said honestly. "But I'm fine."
Margaret reached into her satchel, distracting the attention from my sleeping habits. I was glad. I had been afraid Miss Alice might bring Dr. MacNeill's services into my statement. I did not need that. He was the reason for my lack of sleep.
"I thought you might want this," said Margaret. She pulled a book out of her bag and handed it to me. "You mentioned wanting it for the children. I saw it while I was taking a walk and bought it."
I accepted the book gingerly and gazed at it. I looked up at the beautiful, worn woman before me from the literary piece she had given me. It was Tennyson's Poems. I had mentioned this days and days ago. Perhaps two weeks or so. And she had remembered. "I can't believe you remembered," I said in awe, a genuine smile touching my lips. "Thank you, Margaret."
She looked rather pleased with my obvious delight. Margaret held out her hand. "May I?" she asked. I handed it over and Margaret flipped to a page. "I like this quote."
Forgive!
How many will say, forgive, and find
A sort of absolution in the sound
To hate a little longer!
That thought was actually rather true. For a humorous moment, I wondered if I should tell David to start looking to poets if he was at a loss for words to the mountain people. How true it was for people to say they forgave, then found enough "absolution" in that to keep resenting still.
The train trip was spent with Margaret and I being the main ones talking. We went through the poetry book together until I suggested that she rest some. The doctor was rather hasty to agree with that suggestion but I decided to not comment. I suppose that Margaret and I getting along so well was somewhat disturbing to him. I knew *I* was surprised by it.
Margaret went to sleep and the remainder of the trip was spent in near absolute silence. Unlike Miss Alice's Quaker silences or my comfortable, peaceful silences with Neil, this one was strained. There was an edge to it that perhaps only Neil and I sensed. Or maybe even only I did. But the stress of such a silence nearly drove me mad.
Arriving in Cutter Gap, we spotted David waiting at the train station for us. I saw a tenseness added to Neil's posture at seeing David there. Old rivalry? I wondered.
David greeted us all warmly, giving my shoulder a warm squeeze. When he called Margaret "Mrs. MacNeill" she corrected him. "Call me Margaret," she said, not offering the information that she and Neil had divorced.
"Margaret will be helping me with the children," I informed David, giving Margaret a smile. How wonderful it was to have her as a friend!
I studied David for a moment as he loaded our luggage with Dr. MacNeill's help. There was a life, a peace, in his eyes that was revealed in his body language. The spring was in his step. But there was something else. He looked comfortable. Did he even look content? Well, I knew something had changed. I figured that the retreat had been exactly what he had needed. Weeks of nothing but him and God. There was no Ruby Mae, no romance, no Miss Alice, no Neil, and no children. It had changed him, that was obvious without me even asking.
The conversation was kept up on the way back to the mission. But only between David and Alice. Margaret joined in when she felt alert. She had been tired by the ride and I was in the back of the wagon with her and our luggage. David had been taking care of Charlie since he returned so he had thoughtfully brought along the doctor's horse.
But Neil and I were completely silent. I had not been so silent in a while. There was nothing comfortable about this pending silence. I wished it away but it would not go away. And neither would what I felt for Neil. Then again, I recalled, neither would his previous marriage.
Dr. MacNeill took an imaginary shortcut home to get away from our group as soon as possible. I watched him go in pain. Looking down, I wanted to cry. I wanted to run after him. Instead, I sat in the back of the wagon, bouncing along, and watched his disappearing figure.