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  Christy® Juvenile Fiction Series

  VOLUME THREE

  Christy® Juvenile Fiction Series

  VOLUME ONE

  Book #1 – The Bridge to Cutter Gap

  Book #2 – Silent Superstitions

  Book #3 – The Angry Intruder

  VOLUME TWO

  Book #4 – Midnight Rescue

  Book #5 – The Proposal

  Book #6 – Christy’s Choice

  VOLUME THREE

  Book #7 – The Princess Club

  Book #8 – Family Secrets

  Book #9 – Mountain Madness

  VOLUME FOUR

  Book #10 – Stage Fright

  Book #11 – Goodbye, Sweet Prince

  Book #12 – Brotherly Love

  Christy®Juvenile Fiction Series

  VOLUME THREE

  The Princess Club

  Family Secrets

  Mountain Madness

  Catherine Marshall

  adapted by C. Archer

  VOLUME THREE

  The Princess Club

  Family Secrets

  Mountain Madness

  in the Christy® Juvenile Fiction Series

  Copyright © 1996, 1997

  by the Estate of Catherine Marshall LeSourd

  The Christy® Juvenile Fiction Series is based on

  Christy® by Catherine Marshall LeSourd © 1967

  by Catherine Marshall LeSourd © renewed

  1996, 1997 by Marshall-LeSourd, L.L.C.

  The Christy® name and logo are officially registered

  trademarks of Marshall-LeSourd, L.L.C.

  All characters, themes, plots, and subplots portrayed in this

  book are the licensed property of Marshall-LeSourd, L.L.C.

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be

  reproduced in any form without the written permission

  of the publisher, except for brief excerpts in reviews.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Tommy Nelson®,

  a Division of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

  ISBN 1-4003-0774-0

  Printed in the United States of America

  05 06 07 08 09 BANTA 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  The

  Princess

  Club

  Contents

  The Characters

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  The Characters

  CHRISTY RUDD HUDDLESTON, a nineteen-year-old girl.

  CHRISTY’S STUDENTS:

  CREED ALLEN, age nine.

  LITTLE BURL ALLEN, age six.

  BESSIE COBURN, age twelve.

  WRAIGHT HOLT, age seventeen.

  LIZETTE HOLCOMBE, age nine.

  GEORGE O’TEALE, age nine.

  MOUNTIE O’TEALE, age ten.

  RUBY MAE MORRISON, age thirteen.

  CLARA SPENCER, age twelve.

  LUNDY TAYLOR, age seventeen.

  GRANNY O’TEALE, a superstitious mountain woman. (Great-grandmother of Christy’s students Mountie and George.)

  DR. NEIL MACNEILL, the physician of the Cove.

  ALICE HENDERSON, a Quaker missionary who started the mission at Cutter Gap.

  DAVID GRANTLAND, the young minister.

  IDA GRANTLAND, David’s sister and the mission housekeeper.

  GRADY HALLIDAY, a traveling photographer.

  BEN PENTLAND, the mailman.

  FAIRLIGHT SPENCER, a mountain woman.

  JEB SPENCER, her husband.

  (Parents of Christy’s student Clara.)

  OZIAS HOLT, a mountain man.

  NATHAN O’TEALE, father of Christy’s students Mountie and George.

  DUGGIN MORRISON, stepfather of Christy’s student Ruby Mae.

  MRS. MORRISON, Ruby Mae’s mother.

  LETY COBURN, a mountain woman.

  KYLE COBURN, her husband.

  (Parents of Christy’s student Bessie.)

  BIRD’S-EYE TAYLOR, father of Christy’s student Lundy.

  PRINCE, black stallion donated to the mission.

  PRINCE EGBERT, unwilling frog captive.

  OLD THEO, crippled mule owned by the mission.

  GOLDIE, mare belonging to Miss Alice Henderson.

  CLANCY, mule owned by Grady Halliday.

  One

  Touch that frog, Clara Spencer, and you’ll be covered with warts from head to toe!” Ruby Mae Morrison warned.

  The two girls stood at the edge of Dead Man’s Creek with their friend Bessie Coburn. It was a sparkling, warm afternoon, and the icy water burbled over their bare feet.

  Clara rolled her eyes. “That ain’t true about frogs, Ruby Mae. Miz Christy says frogs is amphi-bians. We’re goin’ to study ’em for science class. And I’m gonna catch me this here one for her to teach us with.” She pointed to the fat green frog sitting on a boulder in the shallow creek, sunning itself happily.

  Ruby Mae sighed. Sometimes Clara acted like the biggest know-it-all in Cutter Gap.

  “Warts,” Ruby Mae repeated firmly. “Hundreds of ’em. Granny O’Teale says they start on your nose first-off.” She nudged Bessie. “Ain’t that right, Bessie?”

  Bessie watched as Clara took another careful step toward the frog. “’Member that fairy tale Miz Christy told us where the girl kisses a frog and he turns into a prince?”

  “’Course I do. Anyways, you oughta be careful how far out you wade, Clara,” Ruby Mae advised. “We ain’t never been this far up the creek before.”

  Clara took a deep breath and lunged for the frog. She grabbed him with both hands. Then she slipped him into the deep pocket of her worn dress and returned to the bank.

  “I’m a-callin’ him Prince Egbert,” she announced, peeking into her pocket.

  “Can’t call him Prince,” Ruby Mae said. She picked up a smooth stone and flung it far down the rushing creek. “We already got ourselves a Prince, in case you forgot. And the mission’s stallion is a whole lot purtier than any warty ol’ frog.”

  “Prince Egbert,” Clara repeated. “And he don’t have warts, I’m tellin’ you.”

  “Kiss him then,” Ruby Mae challenged with a sly grin. “Prove it.”

  Clara lay back on the grass, her hands behind her head. “Don’t need to kiss a frog, ’cause I don’t want to be a princess. I’m a-goin’ to be a doctor when I grow up. Just like Doc MacNeill.”

  Bessie groaned. “Gals can’t be doctors, Clara. That’s just plumb foolish.”

  “How about Miz Alice?” Clara sat up on her elbows. “She’s got a bag full of herbs and medicines. And she births babies and fixes up broken bones and such, just like the doc.”

  Bessie joined Clara on the bank. “Well, I’m a-goin’ to be a teacher, just like Miz Christy. Only in a much fancier school than ours. One with lots of books and pencils, and no hogs under the floor. And no bullies like Lundy Taylor, neither. All my students will behave nice and proper-like, with citified manners.”

  Ruby Mae turned to stare at her two friends. They were lying side by side on the grass, staring up at the sky. They looked alike, the two of them. They were both smaller than she was, with long blond hair. Of course, there were differences, too. Bessie had plump, rosy cheeks and a silly grin. Clara had a thinner face, with
sensible brown eyes, like she was always fretting over something or other.

  She usually was, too. Clara was a thinker. She was always asking how or why or when— questions that would make a normal person’s head spin like a top.

  Bessie, on the other hand, was more of a dreamer. She was the kind of girl who would forget her head if it wasn’t attached.

  Ruby Mae knew both girls leaned on her. After all, she was a year older, and that made her a whole year wiser. She was taller than they were, with long, curly red hair. If only she could get rid of her freckles, she figured she’d be just about perfect.

  “Doctor Clara Spencer,” Bessie said in a wishing kind of voice, “and Pro-fess-or Bessie Coburn.”

  Ruby Mae sighed. Of course, they were only twelve. They weren’t so smart about the way the world worked.

  “Hate to tell you, but you ain’t a-goin’ to be doctors or teachers or frog princesses,” Ruby Mae said as she stooped to get another stone.

  “Since when can you see the future, Ruby Mae?” Clara demanded.

  “Only Granny O’Teale can see the future,” Bessie said. “And that’s if she’s reading the innards of a squirrel on a full moon night.”

  “What I’m sayin’ is, you need cash-money to get those highfalutin’ jobs. ’Cause first you need your schoolin’.” Ruby Mae tossed another rock upstream. “And in case you ain’t noticed, we’re just kinda short of cash-money.”

  “Still and all, Ruby Mae,” Bessie said, “what do you want to be when you’re all growed up? If’n you could be anything you wanted, I mean.”

  Ruby Mae didn’t have to think for a second. “I’d be a mama in a big house in a big city, like Asheville. Maybe even Knoxville. And I’d have me a beautiful golden horse, the fastest in the world. And about twenty-seven kids. All of ’em little angels, mind you . . .”

  “Not like their mama!” Clara teased.

  “And a husband as handsome as . . .” Ruby Mae paused. “As handsome as the preacher and Doc MacNeill, all rolled up into one. Only he’d comb his hair more often than Doc does. And wear fancy clothes with no patches. He’d have the preacher’s eyes. And the doctor’s smile. And he’d have a voice like—”

  “R-R-R- R-IBBIT!” cried the frog in Clara’s pocket.

  “Like Prince Egbert!” Clara exclaimed. She started to giggle. Before long, she and Bessie were rolling on the grass, laughing so hard tears came to their eyes.

  Furious, Ruby Mae rushed up the bank. “Ain’t funny!” she cried, grabbing for Clara’s pocket. Prince Egbert popped out and made a flying leap. He landed on the edge of the bank, eyeing the girls suspiciously.

  “You made me lose Prince Egbert!” Clara cried. “Now help me get him back, Ruby Mae Morrison, or I’ll tell Miz Christy what you done!”

  Ruby Mae sighed. “You stop laughin’ at me, and I’ll help you get your frog. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Carefully the girls made their way toward the frog. But as soon as Clara reached for him, he hopped into the air. He landed on a big rock farther down the creek.

  “Pretend you’re huntin’ squirrels,” Bessie whispered as they made their way toward the rock. “Nice and slow and quiet-like.”

  “If we was huntin’, my papa’s hound would be doin’ the hard work,” Clara said.

  “We need us a froghound,” Ruby Mae joked. Bessie giggled, but Clara was still too mad to laugh.

  “This time, we’ll surround him,” Clara advised as they waded closer. “When I say three, we grab him. I’ll do the countin’. One, two, THREE!”

  All three girls lunged for poor Prince Egbert. He took another leap and landed at the water’s edge underneath a thick, overhanging bush. Ruby Mae reached down in a flash and scooped him up, along with some rocks and sand from the bottom of the creek.

  She held him up, nose crinkled. “Hope you’re satisfied,” she said, depositing the frog into Clara’s pocket. “I’ll be covered with warts by morning.”

  Ruby Mae dropped the stones she’d scooped up back into the water. As she started toward the bank, something sparkling on the bottom of the creek caught her eye.

  Was it just the sun, bouncing off the water? Pieces of shiny metal? Maybe a belt buckle or some nails?

  “Come on, Ruby Mae,” Clara urged. “It’s gettin’ late. And I need to take Prince Egbert home and find a place to keep him till school tomorrow.”

  Ruby Mae bent down. The bottom of her dress was soaking wet. The icy water swirled around her legs.

  She scooped up the shiny things into her hand. For a long time, she just stared at the handful of rocks.

  “Confound it, Ruby Mae,” Bessie whined in her high-pitched voice, “what are you a-starin’ at?”

  “Rocks,” Ruby Mae whispered.

  “Well, toss ’em, already. My papa’ll whop me good if’n I’m late again for supper.”

  Slowly Ruby Mae smiled at her friends. “You don’t understand. These here ain’t just rocks. These is the most beautiful, purtiest, shiniest, amazin’ rocks in the history of rocks!”

  She held out her hand. The rocks glistened like tiny pieces of sun.

  “Fiddlesticks, Ruby Mae,” Bessie said. “Them’s just creek rocks.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Ruby Mae whispered. She could feel her heart leaping inside her like a kitten in a burlap sack. “These is creek rocks made of gold! ”

  For a moment, nobody spoke. The only sound was the musical babble of the creek.

  Clara finally broke the silence. “Come here, Ruby Mae,” she said. “Let me see those.”

  Ruby Mae waded over and held out her hand. Bessie and Clara bent close. Bessie held one of the golden stones between her fingers. Her mouth was hanging open.

  “Sakes alive,” she whispered, “I do believe this here is real gold!”

  “But where did it come from?” Clara whispered. “I ain’t never heard of no gold in these mountains. Coal and such, sure. But gold? ”

  “Who cares where it came from?” Ruby Mae felt like her smile might just be too big for her face. “Do you know what this means?”

  Bessie nodded, eyes wide. “Means we found us some cash-money.”

  “Wrong, Bessie,” Ruby Mae said. “It means we’re rich! It means we don’t have to kiss us a frog to become princesses!”

  Two

  Miz Christy! Miz Christy! The most amazin’ and fantastic thing has happened!”

  Christy Huddleston watched from the porch of the mission house as Ruby Mae, Bessie, and Clara sprinted across the field at high speed.

  “What’s gotten into them, I wonder?” Christy asked Doctor Neil MacNeill, who was staying for supper.

  Doctor MacNeill ran his fingers through his unruly auburn hair. He was a big man, with a big grin to match. “With Ruby Mae and her gang, sometimes I’m afraid to ask.”

  The girls rushed up the wooden steps, panting for air. They were grinning from ear to ear.

  “What on earth happened to you three?” Christy demanded. “You’re all wet! And your hands are covered with mud! Do you realize you were supposed to be here half an hour ago to help set the table, Ruby Mae?”

  “Yes’m, and I’m right sorry, but wait’ll you hear what happened! It all started with—”

  “R-R-R-I-B-B-I-T!”

  Doctor MacNeill laughed. “Sounds to me like you have a classic case of indigestion, Clara.”

  “Ain’t my stomach a-growlin’, Doc,” she said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a fat, green frog. “It’s Prince Egbert. I got him for you to learn us science with, Miz Christy!”

  Gingerly, Christy gave the frog a pat. She’d been living here in the Great Smoky Mountains for several months now, but she was still getting used to the wild creatures her students befriended. “That was very thoughtful, Clara. And a prince, no less!”

  “And we,” Ruby Mae added proudly, “are real, live princesses!”

  “Well, you need to head inside, Your Royal Highness, and set the royal table,” Christy s
aid. “And Clara and Bessie, you two had better head for home before your parents start to worry. It’s getting late.”

  Ruby Mae winked at her friends. “Don’t need to set no table,” she said. “From now on, I aim to just hire me a maid for doin’ my chores.”

  “A maid?” Christy repeated, shaking her head.

  Ruby Mae glanced over her shoulder. With a sly smile, she held out her fist and slowly opened her fingers. “And here’s how I aim to pay her!”

  Christy and Doctor MacNeill exchanged a glance. Several small, damp yellow stones glistened in Ruby Mae’s palm.

  “That isn’t . . .” Christy began. “I mean, it couldn’t be . . .”

  Doctor MacNeill picked up one of the stones. He held it between his thumb and index finger, squinting at it carefully.

  “My, my,” he murmured. “Where exactly did you find this, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Clara cleared her throat. “Nothin’ personal, Doctor,” she answered, “but we all sort of agreed we’d keep that a secret between the three of us. You understand.”

  Just then, Miss Alice appeared in the doorway. “Ruby Mae!” she said sternly. “It’s about time, young lady!”

  Ruby Mae jumped at the sound of her name. Christy tried not to smile. Alice Henderson, a Quaker mission worker who had helped start the school, definitely had a way of commanding attention.

  “Miz Alice,” Ruby Mae said quickly, “you got to understand, somethin’ mighty important’s happened.”

  “I’m listening,” said Miss Alice, tapping her foot.

  “Me and Bessie and Clara is goin’ to be richer than the king of England hisself!”

  Miss Alice barely hid her smile. “You don’t say?” Her eyes fell to the gold stone in the doctor’s hand. She joined them on the porch.