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

 

WINTER IN CUTTER GAP

 

Written by Dub King

 

PART  I

 

As the huge snowflakes pelted Dr. McNeill’s face, he pulled his coat collar higher and was grateful for the warm woolen scarf that his wife had knitted and presented to him for Christmas the previous year.   It was snowing harder now than it had been an hour before when he left the little cabin in Foxfire Hollow where he had just delivered Ruby Mae’s twin daughters. 

 

Ruby Mae and her young husband had been so happy to add to their growing family.  Neill thought warmly of his wife, Christy, now expecting seven months with their own child.  “Or children,” thought Neill.  Christy was amazingly large for it to only be one baby.  “What a coincidence it would be if she and Ruby Mae both have twins!” said Neill right out loud.

 

He was almost embarrassed to be carrying on a conversation with his horse, for he was now on horseback and headed home after a very long day.  The horse whinnied as if to answer an affirmation to his statement.  “Well, at least it isn’t a one-sided conversation!” laughed Neill.

 

Whenever he rode in these mountains, Neill never ceased to be thrilled by the beauty surrounding him.  The awesome mountain vistas were ever changing from season to season.  There was even a hard beauty in the mountain winters. The snow crunching under his horse’s hooves was piling up rapidly with the new heavy snowfall in which he braced himself against the cold wind.   

 

Mountain creatures small and large busied themselves dealing with their own survival needs, leaving their footprints in the snow.   There were numerous rabbits and squirrels scampering through the woods as the mountain doctor made his way home.  He saw tiny chipmunk trails and bobcat tracks on the white, frozen canvas that the landscape had become.   The deer were plentiful this winter as there were numerous indicators from their tracks and obvious bedding in the tall grass and leaves, which were still luxurious despite the snow.

 

In the spring and summer, these same hillsides would be covered with wildflowers, all sorts of berries and other vegetation.  The black bears would be out and about particularly enjoying the numerous varieties of berries.  Christy herself would be picking the wild strawberries and blackberries which grew behind their own cabin and making jams and jellies.

 

Whenever his duties as a mountain doctor allowed, Neill worked on an addition to their cabin.  If he could not take time off from the many demands of a mountain medical practice, he would hire some of the neighboring men to work on the addition.  It was certainly going to be a necessity now and no longer to be considered a luxury.

 

As Neill came to the swift creek which was still running rapidly even in the freezing weather, he took the path which was now only about a mile from his home.  He looked forward to the warm fireside, the pleasant smell of the strong lye soap which Christy used to clean the cabin, the aroma of venison, potatoes and kale cooking on the hearth, and most of all his dear wife to greet him at the front door.  She had promised cooked apples from their very own orchard for supper this night.  The plate of possum and sweet potatoes he had shared with Ruby Mae’s husband at lunch was a distant memory and he was now ravenously hungry and could not wait to get home.

 

On the wooded hillside to the east, Neill saw five deer nibbling at the bits of forage they could find in the quickly accumulating snow.  Water was never a problem for them in the rapid mountain streams, but an overpopulation of deer could contribute to a food shortage.  Such a problem was always unlikely as there were many mountain men with large, hungry families who needed the food which the deer meat provided.

 

Suddenly, as Neill rode through heavy winter underbrush, a brown flash bolted across the path in front of him and startled his steed which reared and whinnied loudly.  Neill instantly realized that a deer had jumped across the path heading downhill.  He was thrown backwards, his head striking a large rock in the path jutting out of the snow.  His horse took off running for some distance, but then turned around and came back to where Neill lay unconscious in the snow.  The mare nuzzled his shoulder with her velvet nose and softly whinnied again, but Neill did not respond.

 

 

PART II

 

 

The pine coffin looked so stark and out of place amid the mission house Christmas decorations, for the Christmas season was approaching.  Neal’s death had come on the twentieth day of December and all the Cutter Gap community festivities were scheduled at the mission because it was the only building large enough to host such a crowd.  For this same reason, the funeral of Dr. McNeill would be held here. 

 

There would be no celebration this holiday season for Christy, only the unbearable grief and shock at the loss of the love of her life.  A group of men hunting near the creek where Neill had been thrown from his horse found his lifeless body and brought it to their cabin.  She had remained in a state of shock ever since.  Although aware of going through the motions of coping with the necessary arrangements, she felt as though she were somehow in an out-of-body experience and must surely soon discover it was all a terrible mistake.

 

Miss Alice and Miss Grantland had been very busy arranging the sad preparations which accompanied death.  People came and went, bringing their offerings of sympathy and food and promising any help that was needed.  They had, after all, lost someone who was also dear to them.  Dr. McNeill had delivered many of their children and had at one time or another endured hardship to come to them in their times of sickness and disease.

 

Christy had spent one night in her old room at the mission house.  It was somehow oddly cold and lonely, although she and Neill had never actually stayed in that room.  The knowledge that his lifeless body lay in a casket downstairs just below this room was more than she could take.  She wanted to wail, but could not for fear of disturbing everyone else in the house.

 

It was ten o’clock now and almost time for the solemn ceremony to begin.  Every chair and bench available was lined up in the front room.  The mountain folk were filing in the room and taking their seats.  Christy sat in a chair beside the pine coffin lined with white taffeta.  This all did not somehow seem real, but no matter how much she did not want it to be reality she knew that it was.

 

David Grantland would be preaching the funeral and entered the room from the kitchen door and walked over to speak words of comfort to her.  Christy was so very thankful that Neill had committed to becoming a Christian the previous year.  This seemed to be the only consolation she had other than Neill’s baby which she carried. 

 

Every scene was moving in slow motion and she felt that she would surely not retain consciousness in order to escape this horror.  The Christmas tree in the corner of the large room taunted her.  She had tried to graciously greet and accept the condolences of all the people in this room for they were dear friends and neighbors. 

 

Ruby Mae, holding a newborn baby, along with her husband and two young sons, entered quietly through the front door.  “Ruby Mae, you shouldn’t be out in this awful weather!” exclaimed Christy. 

 

 To her amazement, Fairlight Spencer came in the room behind Ruby Mae’s family and sat down with her own family.  The sense of unreality was now terribly oppressive.  Christy knew that Fairlight had died and none of this was making any sense at all.  Ruby Mae certainly would not be out so soon after giving birth; and although she wished for Fairlight to still be with her, Christy knew that she was gone.

 

Christy’s gaze fell upon Neill’s open coffin, and when the men came and shut the lid for the final time Christy began to scream.

 

 

PART III

 

 

Christy awoke to the sound of screams, but soon realized they were her own that she was hearing.  She had followed doctor’s orders and lay down for an afternoon nap once she finished her chores for the day.  The evening meal was slowly simmering on the hearth and would be just about ready to eat when Neill returned from Ruby Mae’s cabin.

 

The nightmare she had just experienced was difficult to shake off, but the joy she felt that it was only a bad dream was something to be thankful for in and of itself.

 

She slid off the fluffy feather bed onto a wood floor warm from the fire and hastened to the hearth in the living area to check on the food.  Looking at the pendulum clock in the corner she was surprised she had only been sleeping a short time.  Her dream had seemed to encompass days.  A feeling of immense relief swept through her at the thought that the nightmare which had come in the day was only a dream. 

 

Just at that moment there came a loud knock at the cabin door and a vaguely familiar voice shouting, “Miz McNeill!  Miz McNeill!  Doc McNeill has been hurt!”   Christy ran to the front door the wind and snow gusting in as she flung it open widely.  “Oh, I should have known something had happened, Birds Eye!” cried Christy.  Birdseye Taylor was supporting Neill as he held on with one arm around his shoulders. 

 

“Are you all right, Neill?” asked Christy as she helped Bird’s Eye get him to the bed on which she had so recently had the terrible dream.  “I’m all right, Christy,” answered Neill, “I’ll just have a very sore head for a few days.  The horse was startled by a jumping deer and I lost my balance.  It’s a good thing Bird’s Eye decided to go squirrel hunting and found me.  I was out cold for a while.”

 

“Good thang the rock you hit yore noggin on wuz kivvered in thick moss,” stated the mountain man.  “At any rate, Bird’s Eye, you have my thanks and an invitation to stay and partake of that wonderful smelling supper Christy has on the hearth,” said Neill.

 

“Reckin’ a feller would be pert near out’n his mind to be a refusin’ a supper thet smelt as tasty as thet, Doc, but thet weather ain’t a gettin no better an’ th’ sun’s a settin’ purty soon.  I reckin’ as how I bes’ be a headin’ on back to th’ holler,” replied Bird’s Eye. 

 

“Oh, thank you so much for bringing Neill back home!” exclaimed Christy as she escorted her newest hero to the cabin door.  She had wrapped a big slab of the shortbread which she had made early in the day and slipped it in Bird’s Eye’s coat pocket just before he walked out the door.  He would tend to Neill’s horse before he left for his own cabin in Taylor Hollow.

 

Christy brought Neill’s supper on a tray to him in bed and they both ate while he told her the exciting news about Ruby Mae’s newborn twin daughters.   Later they settled in for a good night’s sleep.  Neill would rest the next few days and, thankfully, the snow would abate, the temperature would rise and there would be no pressing medical emergency in the cove at least for this little while. 

 

On the twenty-fourth of December they hitched up their carriage and drove to the mission house for the Cutter Gap annual Christmas Eve celebration.   There was an abundance of food, music, carol singing and square dancing.  Miss Alice had even been able to coax her temperamental poinsettias to bloom and the school children had made popcorn garlands and paper snowflakes for the huge, cheerful tree in the corner.  Hot spiced fruit tea bubbled on the hearth, for they had received boxes of oranges, lemons, cinnamon sticks and peppermint candies from a generous donor in Asheville.  Christmas presents for the children came from another contributor out of Raleigh.

 

When Christy and Neill joined the other revelers in the square dance, Christy was the joyful partner of a man who was not only a good doctor but also a good dancer.  She remembered to offer a Christmas prayer of thanks that bad dreams do not always come true, and more times than not happy dreams seem to materialize against the odds.

 

THE END