The story of Christy is owned the Marshall-LeSourd Family. We are in no way seeking profit or credit for her story. This fiction is written for our own amusement only. This story uses themes from the book, CBS series and the PAX movies.

Stormwatch

About half-an-hour after he'd sent his children to the mission with their Aunt Opal, Jeb Spencer regretted not going with them.  It was too late now.  The water had risen quickly.  The usually tame creek was now a ferocious roil of mud, broken tree limbs, and boulders.  It would be impossible to cross now, and somehow, in the face of the storm's violence, he had lost the desire to join Fairlight in death.  He had found the will, if not the means to live.  He listened to the crack and roll of thunder as it reverberated through the mountains, and to the unaccustomed rush of water just outside the cabin door.  It would be safest to just stay put.

Jeb was not a man who had spent a great deal of time just sitting and thinking.  He was a mountain man, which meant he kept his strong emotions deep inside where even he had trouble getting at them.  He was too concerned with the business of the here and now; putting food on the table, keeping a roof over his family's head and providing, maybe a little for the future; to dwell on the "might have beens" of life.  Fairlight had liked to say, "It's today I must be living."  Fairlight...how he ached for Fairlight.

Now, in the darkness, he had nothing to do but think.  He remembered the terrible moment when he realized that God was wrenching Fairlight's life from his.  Neil McNeill had looked at him over his wife's sickbed. He hadn't even needed to say it.  Jeb knew.  Time had run out.  He had not been able to tell her he loved her with a room full of people.  Those were private words.  Death was seldom private in the Cove.

His years with Fairlight flowed through his mind.  The first time he'd seen her, aglow with the chill of a creekside bath, the warm spring day they were married, her weary smile after she'd given birth to their firstborn, her grief and resigned acceptance when the baby had died, her knowing smirk when they teased each other, the piercing snap of her eyes when she was angry.  Those eyes.  Clear and blue, like a deep pool.  A man could fall into those eyes.  He had many a time.  Now those eyes were gone forever.

A flash of lightening followed immediately by a crack of thunder made his heart leap.  It had been close.  He peered out of the window, but the rain was coming so fast, it was impossible to see more than a few feet.  The world was a fury of water and wind.  All he could hear was the raging of the creek-turned-river that churned at his doorstep, and threatened to carry his home away, and him with it.

He laid down in the darkness, on the bed that was his and Fairlight's for so many years, to wait for God's judgment.  He didn't know when he fell asleep.

He dreamed of Fairlight.  She was young.  She was beautiful with her long golden hair loose and down past her waist.  Her face had lost the care lines that life had etched into her features.  She smiled at him, her blue eyes alight with health and happiness.  She was happier than he'd ever seen her.

"Fairlight," he said, "I'm lost.  I'm all alone without you and I don't know what to do."

She gazed at him compassionately.

"I'm always watching out for you and the young'uns.  You're never lost.  You're never alone.  You know that Jeb.  You'll see me again, but just now you have to be there for our young'uns.  It's not your time yet."�

"I miss you," he said.

"I know."

"I love you Fairlight."

She smiled her playful smile.

"I always knew that.  Same as you always knew I loved you.  And I still do."

She leaned up to kiss him.  As their lips touched, she faded away and he awoke with the taste of her on his lips.  It was the most vivid dream he had ever had.

He went down on his knees at the side of the bed.

"Lord," he prayed, "I'm scared, and I'm lonely, but now I know that my Fairlight is with You and she's happy.  I reckon as long as I know that, I can keep on goin' if You'll help me.  Please watch over my young'uns.  Keep 'em safe, and I'll try to do right by them from now on if You see fit to let me.  Amen."

He stayed kneeling by the bedside and the first healing sob rose from his chest.  His tears fell like the deluge outside and his pent up grief echoed the thunder.  By the time the storm abated, Jeb Spencer had begun to feel again.  His burden was lighter than it had been in weeks.

When the tempest finally ended and the water had receded, he heard his children's voices in the distance.  They were coming home to him.  When he saw them, he realized for the first time since her death, that he saw Fairlight in every one of their faces, and he knew he was not alone.  He never had been.