I had not seen Dr. MacNeil since the morning after my retreat into the woods. More than a month had passed, but it seemed like so much longer. I had intentionally tried to avoid him, for I felt that seeing him would be awkward. I had sent Fairlight to pick up supplies for the mission when we needed them, and thankfully, none of the children or anyone at the mission had required his services. But I missed sharing confidences with him; I missed hearing his voice--his Scottish accent. I sat on the front porch one evening, just before supper, trying to conjure his voice when David walked up the steps.
"Christy," he said.
I looked up.
"I wanted to tell you that I am so sorry for my behavior. I want to mend our friendship, if you'll forgive me."
I smiled. "Oh David, of course I forgive you. I've missed talking to you; I've missed our friendship so much." I got up and gave him a hug. His smile caused a wave of relief to wash over me. I felt like I had come home after a long and tiring journey.
"What's this?" He asked, and he touched the gold locket that I wore around my neck. The light that streamed from the window lit only his nose and cheeks.
"It was a gift from my family," I showed him the pictures inside and the inscription on the back.
He twisted the locket in his long fingers and turned it toward the light in order to see better. After he had read the inscription, he looked up at me with sincerity. "Of course they're proud--who wouldn't be proud of you, Christy."
At dinner, we talked as easily and happily as we used to. We ate ham, collard greens, and mashed potatoes. Ruby Mae had forgotten to put the corn bread muffins in the oven, so we could smell them cooking as we talked about the children and the mission; Ruby Mae chattered incessantly.
"This is the best book I ever did read, Mizz Christy." She said and tapped the cover of "Little Women," the book I had given her.
"It was my favorite too, Ruby Mae." I told her.
"I like this Jo, gal. I wish I knew what she looked like… This makes me wish I had me a sister….Mizz Christy, will you read some to me later…Beth March, Jo's sister, had scarlet fever just like we did at the school…remember teacher?"
Miss Alice, however, was extremely quite; she said scarcely two words together all evening. Her smile seemed strained, and the dullness in her eyes told me that she barely listened to us at all. After I had cleared and washed the dishes, I knocked on her bedroom door.
"Come in," she called.
"Oh, Christy, it is so good to see thee happy again," she said and stretched out her arms to hug me. "I was so worried about thee, but it seems that the light has come back into thine eyes."
"Thank you Miss Alice. But I am afraid that I have been so preoccupied with myself that I failed to notice, until tonight, that you have been sad; what's wrong, Miss Alice? Is it Margaret? Is she okay?"
She paused and weakly sat down upon her bed. She looked as if she had no strength to stand.
"Tomorrow is Margaret's birthday." She stated. "I want to see her so much, but I fear that it would put a bigger wedge between us. I have sent messages to her--Fairlight carried them for me. She has not responded to any of them." Miss Alice's eyes pooled with tears. "Oh Christy, I've missed her so. I must admit to thee that I have, at times, been willing to give up God and my faith just to see her. I am so ashamed of myself."
I sat down on the bed beside Miss Alice and pulled her dark hair away from her face. I wanted so much to tell her that everything would be okay, but I did not know that it would. I put my arm around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder, I could feel her trembling. After she had regained herself she said, "I can still remember Margaret's little hands; she had long fingers like my daddy did. She was born with coal black hair, and a splotchy pink face. She had long, thick eyelashes and big blue eyes." Miss Alice paused and tilted her head as if she were looking at a picture.
"She used to climb into bed with me in the middle of the night and place her cold feet on my shins. It always sent chills up my spine. She would toss and turn and finally confess that she could not sleep and beg for me to read poetry to her. I had a book of Shakespeare's sonnets that she liked so much. We stayed up many nights reading from that book."
"She was a tender hearted little girl--" Miss Alice continued, sniffing and then wiping her nose with her crisp, white handkerchief. "There was a bully at the school that she attended. He was not unlike Lundy Taylor; he was an abused child and much troubled. His name was Clovis Pritchard. He would pick on all the children, but he liked to torment Caroline Jacobs more than he did the others; Caroline was a chubby, round-faced girl. He called her names and would hit her. He threatened all of the other children with a beating if they talked to her or tried to play with her. 'Caroline is so lonely,' Margaret would tell me after school. 'She sits all alone during recess and eats her sandwich in a corner.' One day, Margaret had had enough of Clovis; she marched right across the schoolyard and ate her lunch with Caroline. Clovis threatened her, but she did not back down, and he never bothered Margaret or Caroline again. Margaret was always fearless like that." Miss Alice smiled at the memory.
"What happened to Caroline?" I asked.
"She died of Typhoid four years later. She was Margaret's best friend." Miss Alice turned serious again. "It wasn't long after that when Margaret started to change. She grew restless and agitated…" Miss Alice stopped talking and looked at me.
"I don't know what to do, Christy. Fairlight said that she looked very sad last time she saw her, and she was coughing. I can not bare to lose her again."
"Is there something I could do, Miss Alice?" I asked.
"Christy, will'st thou be willing to take her this present…" she motioned to a small, beautifully wrapped box, which sat on her nightstand. "And could thou talk to her for me--I believe that she might need a friend."
"Of course I will. Since tomorrow is Saturday, I don't have school; I will go first thing in the morning. Why don't you come with me," I said.
"No, no, she has to come to me on her own. I can not meddle in her affairs any longer--that is a mistake that I have made in the past."
When I was confident that Miss Alice was okay, I went up to my room. I could not sleep that night. I wrapped some of my bath salts and a bottle of perfume in a lace handkerchief that mother had crocheted for me. Then I opened my windows so that the night air could pour into my room. The moon shone brightly; and, in the distance, I could see the wrinkled mountains. They were a comfort.
*********
The morning came sooner than I wanted. I had not slept at all, so my stomach churned. I dressed and ate two bites of toast on the way out the door. With my arms wrapped around Margaret's presents, I set out for Doctor MacNeil's cabin.
I hummed as I walked to try to keep myself calm. As I neared Doctor MacNeil's cabin, I noticed that my heart raced.
"Miss Huddleston, to what do I owe this honor?" A voice called out. It was Neil. His voice sounded friendly and jovial; he appeared from out of the trees. He wore his sleeves rolled up and carried an ax in his hand. When he saw me, his smiling features melted into a look of concern. "Are you feeling well? You look thin."
"Oh, yes, I'm fine," I could feel my face blush. His observant eyes never missed even the slightest detail. He was right; I hadn't eaten well over the last month. I could tell he didn't believe my answer; he continued to examine me with his eyes, which made me blush even more. "I just came to wish Mrs. MacNeil a happy birthday." His eyes shifted away as if my words had stung him.
"She's inside," he said, then turned and disappeared again into the woods. I walked the rest of the way to his cabin, but I stopped when I got to the front porch. I smoothed my skirt, took a deep breath, and walked up the steps. Before I could knock on the door, Margaret had opened it.