Disclaimer:  The story of “Christy” is owned by the Marshall-LeSourd family.  My story is for entertainment only and not for profit.  This story uses themes from the “Christy” the book, the CBS Series, and the PAX Movies.

 

"Snowflakes"

 

By Sarah J.

 

 

“Miss Huddleston, I don't believe I heard you correctly.  You're asking me to make paper dolls?" asked Neil MacNeill, his eyes wide with disbelief.

 

MacNeill towered over the diminutive school teacher but Christy remained steadfast.  "No Doctor. I'm asking you to make paper snowflakes."

 

Eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, MacNeill glanced at the scissors and paper on the desk then searched Christy's face for a hint of a joke.  "I thought I was here for the children’s science lesson?"

 

"Yes, Doctor, and the children and I are very grateful you're here," replied Christy, her raised eyebrow mirroring the doctor's bushy one.  "Surely you can turn scissors and paper into a science lesson?"

 

"It's not that I'm incapable, Miss Huddleston, but I did already have a plan, you know."

 

MacNeill crossed his arms across his chest stubbornly.  Christy realized she was pushing against a mountain of male pride, and changed her tack.  "Oh, I'm sure your plan is most interesting and informative.  Your lessons always are, Doctor.  In fact, you are a hard act to follow."  Christy turned from Neil, a small grin on her face.  She waited for him to take the bait as surely as a fish.

 

"What do you mean, 'hard act to follow'?"

 

Turning back to him, giving him a look of concern, she continued.  "I mean, it's difficult to get the children's focus back on their next lesson after you've taught.  They get so involved."

 

"Really?" MacNeill smiled and looked pleased with himself.  Seeing Christy's apparent dismay though, he recovered his usual stoic appearance.  "Well, then suppose I end my lesson with a transition to your lesson?"

 

Christy's smile made her face glow, making her eyes shine.  She had gotten her way, and he didn't even know it yet.  "Yes! What a wonderful idea, Neil, uh, I mean, Doctor!"

 

MacNeill knew he had been 'had', but seeing the happiness in her deep blue gaze made him not care in the slightest.  "So I need to transition into making paper snowflakes?" he replied in a flat tone.

 

"Yes."

 

MacNeill thought, and as was his custom, he paced, his bootstraps flapping back and forth as his heavy steps fell on the dusty floorboards.  Suddenly, he stopped and turned toward Christy.  "I have it!"

 

He drew three small marble-like, black and white stones from his pocket and held them out for her to see. "I'll use these for a lesson."

 

"Marbles?"

 

He shook his head and scowled, "No, no, they're not marbles, they're polished obsidian."

 

She continued to look confused as to how he would transition from rocks to snowflakes. "So?"

 

"So, Miss Huddleston, they are called SNOWFLAKE obsidian." He smiled down at her then, like a magician that had pulled off an amazing feat. "Come here and look."

 

He drew her to the window, his rough hand gentle on her arm.  Christy drew her head down close to the doctor's as he raised the "marbles" closer into the light, rotating each black opaque orb in succession.  In the light she could see the "snowflakes" in the lustrous volcanic glass.  She raised her eyes and looked at him with awed respect.

 

"You are a genius, doctor." Christy declared.  Their eyes met and held for long seconds.

 

"Well, far be it for me to argue with the teacher." MacNeill winked quickly at her, loving the bright blush he saw on her cheeks.  "In ancient times, these stones were thought to have healing properties and were believed to promote sensitivity to love and beauty.  Of course that's hogwash, and they don't treat, cure or prevent any condition, but they are pretty; aye?"

 

Christy felt the magnetic pull of her eyes towards his, and her breath caught in her chest.  His intense gaze was one of such... fondness.  Every last thought vanished from her mind as Christy found herself lost in the bright blue depths.

 

So caught up in the rugged man before her, Christy didn’t hear the clamor as the children entered the schoolroom and took their seats.  She didn’t hear the shuffling of feet and papers as they grew restless.  Christy finally jumped when giggles erupted from the children.

 

Blushing an even deeper shade, Christy stepped away from the window and quickly brought the class to attention with a sharp clap of her hands.  She turned the lesson over to the doctor, then hurriedly escaped to the back of the room.

 

Leaning her back against the wall, Christy crossed her arms and pondered the man before her.  How did he do it?  How did he hold the children in the palm of his hands while delving into the secrets of botany or chemistry, or today’s lesson in geology?

 

Christy’s gaze swept over the children, who at the present were glued to the doctor’s every word.  Even the unruliest boys sat absolutely spellbound when Dr. MacNeill was teaching.

 

Her eyes then traveled back to the object of everyone’s attention.  An assortment of rocks were lined up on her desk. One by one, the doctor would select a stone and hold it up for all to see, explaining how it had formed over millions of years.  Christy found her mind wandering from the smooth, dark stone in MacNeill’s hand to the hand itself.

 

Neil had broad hands, strong hands, with fine reddish hairs that gleamed like gold when struck by a shaft of sunlight.  She had observed his hands many times.  They would cup the cheek of one young child, or wipe the trail of blood from another’s skinned knee.  She had watched his hands heft with equal control and ease an axe or a scalpel.  She had sat transfixed as he deftly tied the tiniest of feathers and some thread into a fishing fly.  She had been present at the bedside of a dying patient, when there was nothing left for Neil to do but to gently hold a weakening hand until the end had come.  She had felt the warmth of his hand as it had wrapped around her smaller ones, urging her to lift the lamp higher while he tended to Miss Alice’s wound, and again today when he had drawn Christy towards the window to show her the obsidian.

 

"Miss Huddleston?"

 

Christy jerked, then gave herself a mental shake as she thought, ‘What on earth is wrong with me today?’

 

"Yes, Doctor?"

 

"I said, I’ve completed today’s science lesson. We’ve finished discussing the snowflake obsidian.  Isn’t there something you’d like to talk about at this time?"

 

"Errr...oh!  Yes.  Thank you, doctor.  Children, let’s thank Dr. MacNeill for another intriguing lesson."

 

Christy bustled to the front of the room as Neil began to place the stones back into a canvas satchel.  As she passed by the doctor, his head bowed while intent on his task, she noticed a smile stretch across his face.  Neil glanced up into her eyes and his smile broadened into a grin as one eyebrow lifted in a comical question.

 

‘Caught!  Oh, bother!  He’s caught me daydreaming about him.’

 

Then, continuing forward as she gazed back over her shoulder at the doctor, Christy walked smack dab into the chalkboard.

 

Three long strides covered the distance between the desk and the tilting chalkboard but MacNeill was too late. The chalkboard teetered then fell, spilling chalk, eraser and Christy to the floor.

 

Christy’s breath went out with a whoosh.  Gasping like a landed fish, she had several bad moments until the band around her chest relaxed and air returned to her lungs.  Christy shook her head and coughed, as chalk dust invaded her lungs.  With the returning air, also came returned hearing, and the doctor’s words became clear.

 

"Just lie still, Christy."

 

Christy heard the doctor calming the children, assuring them their teacher would be fine.  He sent the students quickly back to their seats with an assignment of drawing a large snowflake on their paper.

 

Christy saw the chalk dust still floating aimlessly in the air, flecks of it landing like snowflakes in the doctor's red-gold curls as he reached down to her.  

 

"Perhaps Miss Huddleston if you kept your thoughts and eyes focused on the task at hand these mishaps wouldn't happen."  MacNeill chided gently, his warm, steady hands lifting the teacher to her feet.

 

"My thoughts were on my lesson" Christy sputtered. "I'd noticed it's begun snowing and I was thinking how beautiful it is and how it coincided perfectly with today’s lessons." 

 

His blue eyes saw right through the lie. "You weren’t looking at the window, Miss Huddleston."

 

"You may be immune to nature’s beauty, Doctor, but I'm not."  There was no way she was going to admit to being lost in a daydream about HIM.  She stalked to the window, where the snow was indeed falling.

 

"I assure you, Miss Huddleston, I am not immune to beauty" murmured MacNeill.  He had moved without a noise and his voice startled her. She looked back, and up then caught her breath as the gold rays of the afternoon sun gilded his face.  His hair was coated in fine white dust.  His eyes were filled with passion and humor.  The curve of his lips held a promise.