Midnight Rescue / The Proposal / Christy's Choice Page 2

“What do you think about Ruby Mae riding in the race?” Christy asked.

  “Well, she’s a fine rider, no doubt about that,” Miss Alice said. “And Prince has incredible speed. Not like my Goldie,” she said fondly. Miss Alice’s sturdy palomino was getting on in years.

  “Oh, Prince do have speed, Miss Alice, he do,” Ruby Mae cried. “One day last week I ran him straight over Big Spoon Creek, and he jumped so high I thought I’d touch heaven—” She glanced over at David, who was frowning. “Oops. Don’t get me wrong. It were just a little jump, Preacher, I promise—”

  Doctor MacNeill joined them. He was eating one of the gingerbread cookies that Fairlight Spencer had brought for the celebration. “I watched you two dancing,” said the doctor with a grin. “That was some fancy footwork, David. All ten seconds’ worth.”

  “We were interrupted,” David grumbled.

  “Probably a good thing,” the doctor joked. “How’s that wrist of yours, Miss Alice?”

  “Still swollen,” Miss Alice said. “But I’ll be fine soon. Wish it had been my left hand. I can’t even write my name. And it makes my nursing duties difficult.”

  Ruby Mae tugged on David’s sleeve. “You heard Miss Alice, Preacher. Can I ride Prince?”

  “Not if there’s moonshine involved,” David said firmly.

  “I hate to think there’s illegal liquor here at your birthday party,” Christy said to Miss Alice.

  “Oh, it’s here, whether we like it or not,” said the doctor. “Moonshine’s a part of mountain life.”

  “I’m afraid the doctor’s right,” Miss Alice said. “Bird’s-Eye Taylor appears to have consumed quite a bit already.” She nodded over toward the lattice-covered springhouse where Bird’s-Eye was dozing, snoring loudly. His dirty felt hat covered one eye.

  Christy shook her head. Bird’s-Eye was the father of her most difficult and troublesome student, seventeen-year-old Lundy. Lundy was big and mean, a constant bully with a chip on his shoulder. From what Christy had seen of his father, it was easy to see why Lundy was so difficult.

  “So is the answer no?” Ruby Mae pressed again. “Or yes?”

  “I can’t let you ride in a race for moonshine,” David said. “As a matter of fact, I won’t let a race like that take place here at all.”

  “I’ve already taken care of that,” Miss Alice said with a grin. “I put up two of Miss Ida’s apple pies as a prize for the winner of the race, instead of liquor. As much as liquor is prized in this Cove, Miss Ida’s pies are even more coveted.”

  David laughed. “My sister does make a fine pie.”

  “For my part, David, I think you should let Ruby Mae enter the race,” Miss Alice said. “She has as good a chance as any of the men.”

  “And it would teach them a lesson,” Christy added. “Sometimes I’m amazed at the way men treat women here in Cutter Gap.”

  “Miz Christy is right,” Ruby Mae said. “These men got no respect for womenfolks.”

  “I don’t know,” David said, rubbing his chin.

  Just then, Ruby Mae’s stepfather sauntered by. He was weaving a little, as if he might have been drinking, too. “Don’t you bother racin’, gal,” he yelled. “You ain’t got a chance, Ruby Mae.”

  Christy spun around. “Mr. Morrison, I think you’re going to have to eat your words. Ruby Mae on Prince can beat any man.”

  David rolled his eyes. “I didn’t give permission yet,” he reminded her.

  “But you were going to, weren’t you?” Christy asked, giving him a nudge.

  David shook his head and sighed. “I can tell when I’m outnumbered. Come on, Ruby Mae. I’ll help you get Prince saddled up.”

  Two

  Ruby Mae stood next to Prince, stroking his glossy neck. They were waiting by the starting line for all the other riders and their horses. “You and me, boy,” she whispered to the beautiful black stallion. “We’re a-goin’ to show them others.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Lundy Taylor strode up on Lightning. The big gray stallion gave a hard nudge on Prince’s shoulder.

  Ruby Mae rolled her eyes. It figured. Even the Taylors’ horse was mean. Meanness just plain ran in the family. Maybe it was because Bird’s-Eye, Lundy’s pa, was a moonshiner. Of course, Ruby Mae’s own step-pa had done his share of moonshinin’, too.

  “You ain’t got a chance, Ruby Mae Morrison,” Lundy said with a sneer. “Womenfolk is good for two things—cookin’ and jabberin’. Lord knows you know how to talk. I don’t know what kind of cook you is, but one way or t’other, you ain’t got a chance, you and that preacher-horse.”

  “Just you wait and see, Lundy,” Ruby Mae shot back. She ran her hand through Prince’s mane, soft and long as the silk in an ear of corn. “Prince is faster’n a fox on fire. You’ll see.”

  She gazed around at the other entrants. Jake Pentland—nephew of Ben Pentland, the local mailman—was there with a stocky little chestnut mare. Elias Tuttle—the owner of the general store in El Pano, a town about seven miles from Cutter Gap—was riding up on a fancy bay gelding with a wonderful leather saddle, all shiny and tooled. Elias often donated food and supplies to Miz Alice for the mission.

  Just then, someone rode up on the other side of her. It was Rob Allen, a tall, slender fourteen-year-old who was one of the best students at school. Miz Christy had even appointed him a Junior Teacher who got to help the other students. Rob was riding a piebald mare named Pegasus, a name Rob had gotten from one of the books he liked to read. Of course, Pegasus was such a mouthful that most folks just called the horse “Peg.”

  Rob wanted to be a writer when he grew up. Ruby Mae thought that was a grand idea. She wished she wanted to be something, too, but she hadn’t quite figured out what it was. She knew she wished her hair wouldn’t act like it had a mind of its own on humid summer afternoons. She knew she wished her freckles weren’t so darn . . . well, freckle-y. And she knew she wished she had two whole pairs of leather shoes as fine and fancy as Miz Christy’s.

  But those things didn’t nearly seem as good as wanting to be something bigger than all outdoors, like a writer. Ruby Mae thought Rob was very special for wanting something so huge and impossible and fine. She also thought he had the cutest little bitty dimple in his cheek when he smiled just so, but of course she’d never told him that. And he looked mighty tall, sitting astride his horse and gazing down at her.

  “You going to race Peg?” Ruby Mae asked Rob.

  “Why, Pegasus is plumb fast, when she puts her mind to it.” Rob smiled shyly. “Course, she’s got a mind of her own. Never do know when she’s in the mood to run.”

  “I s’pose you’re goin’ to tell me how I ain’t got a chance of winnin’,” Ruby Mae said.

  “Nope. I seen you ridin’ Prince. For a girl, you handle a horse fine. Even for a man, I reckon.” He gave a cockeyed grin, then shrugged. “Truth is, you ride like you was part horse yourself, Ruby Mae.”

  Ruby Mae could hardly keep from hollering, she was so thrilled at Rob’s words. No man or boy had ever admitted to her she was a good rider before. But all she said was, “Well, then, may the best man . . . or gal . . . win.”

  By now, quite a crowd had formed to watch the race. Everywhere Ruby Mae looked, it seemed like she saw happy couples. It must be because spring was in the air. Lizette Holcombe was holding hands with Wraight Holt, who’d stopped playing the piano to come watch the fun. Bessie Coburn, Ruby Mae’s best friend, was whispering to John Spencer, a boy Bessie had a crush on for what seemed like forever and a day. And as for Miz Christy—well, she seemed to have two fellows sweet on her—the doctor and the preacher. Miz Christy said Ruby Mae was imagining things, but Ruby Mae had an eye for romance. She could tell the doctor and the preacher both liked Miz Christy, all right. Question was, which one was Miz Christy hankering after?

  Of course, Ruby Mae was in love, too—but not with any fellow. She was in love with a horse. Since Prince had come to the mission, it was all she could do to think about anything else. Before sc
hool, after school, sometimes during school, if she could find an excuse—Ruby Mae spent every waking moment thinking about Prince. She’d always loved animals, from the little three-footed squirrel she’d nursed back to health after he’d been attacked by an animal, to the old owl who lived in the sycamore near her cabin. But Prince was different. When she was riding him, she felt like anything was possible.

  “Ruby Mae, you be careful, now, ya’ hear?”

  Ruby Mae looked over to see her mother approaching. Her graying hair was tied with a piece of frayed rope. In the bright sunshine, the harsh lines in her face made her look even more worn and tired than usual.

  “I will, Ma,” Ruby Mae promised. She toyed with her reins. “I . . . I miss you and Pa.”

  “You can come visit any time. Ain’t like you don’t know the way.” Mrs. Morrison nodded at Prince. “Looks like you’re gettin’ spoiled, livin’ here with that teacher in the mission house. Your own horse to ride, plenty of food.” She clucked her tongue at Ruby Mae’s braids, the ones Miz Christy had taught her to make. “Why, I’ll just bet you take a bath in that metal tub of theirs every single day.”

  Ruby Mae hesitated. She didn’t know what to say. The truth was, she did like living at the mission house. She missed her parents, but they were always yelling at each other and at her. It was a relief to get away from all the fussing. When Miss Alice had first suggested that Ruby Mae stay at the mission house for a while, Ruby Mae had wondered if it were a good idea. But now she knew that it was.

  “Maybe I can come back home soon, Ma,” Ruby Mae said softly. She wondered if Rob was listening. She glanced over at him, but he was fiddling with his stirrups. Ruby Mae lowered her voice. “But it just seems like whenever we’re all together, we start in on fightin’ like wildcats in a flour sack.”

  “If you weren’t so ornery,” Mrs. Morrison began, “that mouth of yours runnin’ on like a waterfall—” She stopped. “Well, no point in startin’ that again. I just wanted to say be careful, is all.”

  From behind them came a drunken whoop.

  It was Bird’s-Eye, Lundy’s father, with Ruby Mae’s stepfather. Bird’s-Eye was walking lopsidedly, leaning on Duggin for support.

  “Looky here!” Bird’s-Eye cried. “That your stepdaughter, Duggin? She think she’s a boy, do she?”

  “Told her she ain’t got a prayer of winnin’, but you know that Ruby Mae,” Duggin said, propping up Bird’s-Eye as he nearly tripped. “That gal gets a notion in her head, it’s stuck there like honey in a hive.”

  Mrs. Morrison scowled. “Don’t pay him no never-mind, girl,” she whispered. “I seen you ride before. You can beat ’em all, if’n you put that stubborn will of your’n to it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ruby Mae said. She smiled gratefully at her mother, then put her left foot in the stirrup and swung herself up onto Prince’s sleek back. She nudged him gently toward the starting line. She was proud of the way he stood there, ready to run, but calm. Not fidgeting and fussing, like some of the other horses.

  Miss Alice appeared in front of the line of riders. She winked at Ruby Mae, and Ruby Mae gave her thumbs-up, to show she was confident.

  Ruby Mae loved Miss Alice. Miss Alice had a way of talking about God that made Him seem not so fearsome and far away, but kind and loving and close as your own heartbeat.

  “All right, I see we have our riders assembled,” Miss Alice said. “Lundy Taylor on Lightning. Jake Pentland on Robert E. Lee. Elias Tuttle on Possum. Ruby Mae Morrison on Prince—”

  At the sound of Ruby Mae’s name, Duggin and Bird’s-Eye, along with some of the other men, began to hoot and whistle.

  Rob looked over at her and winked. “Don’t pay ’em no never-mind,” he said.

  “And last but not least,” Miss Alice continued, “Rob Allen on Pegasus. Now, as this is my birthday, I will officiate over the race, to be sure it’s run fair and square. On the count of three, you will race to the edge of the field to that big oak, turn, and come back to this spot. Be careful on that turn, by the way. It’s a tight one. Winner receives two of Miss Ida’s finest apple pies.”

  “Woulda liked a jug o’ likker better,” Lundy grumbled.

  Miss Alice ignored him. “Are there any questions?”

  “Can’t rightly start a race without a gun,” said Ruby Mae’s stepfather. He waved his shotgun in the air. “Ain’t proper.”

  “There’ll be no shooting at my birthday party, Duggin Morrison,” Miss Alice warned. She spoke so quietly and firmly that he put down his gun. Miss Alice had a way about her, Ruby Mae thought, smiling to herself. She could put the fear of God into any man, even Ruby Mae’s stepfather.

  “But on second thought, Duggin,” Miss Alice continued with a smile, “since my own hand is temporarily out of order, I’ll allow you to start the riders off, on the count of three. One shot straight up, Duggin, and that’s all, understood?”

  Ruby Mae’s stepfather grinned. He pointed his old hunting rifle toward the sky.

  “Riders, are you ready?” Miss Alice called.

  Everyone nodded. “Ready to beat the pants off’n the rest o’ these losers!” Lundy cried. Ruby Mae cast a quick smile at Rob. She bent down and whispered to Prince, “We can beat ’em all, boy. You just show ’em what you’re made of, and so will I.” She looked back and saw Miz Christy watching her. Miz Christy held up her fingers, to show they were crossed for good luck.

  “On your marks,” Miss Alice called. A hush fell over the crowd.

  “Get set,” she said.

  Ruby crouched low, tightening her grip on the reins. She could feel Prince tense beneath her. His ears were pricked. He pounded a foot on the ground.

  He was ready, and so was Ruby Mae.

  Duggin Morrison fired his gun. The powerful blast shook the air.

  “Hah, boy!” Ruby Mae pressed her bare heels into Prince’s sides and gave him plenty of rein as he thrust into a full gallop. To her left, Lundy’s horse, Lightning, and Elias’ horse, Possum, were neck and neck, just a few yards ahead of her. To her right, Peg and Robert E. Lee had fallen back.

  “Atta boy!” she screamed. Prince’s hooves slashed the grass, filling the air with a noise like slow thunder. He was flying, that was all there was to it. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the mighty horse had wings.

  Ruby Mae kept her eyes focused on the great oak at the end of the field. It would be a tricky turn. She’d have to slow Prince down enough to take it sharply and avoid running into the other riders. But she didn’t want to slow down too much. Especially not when Prince was starting to overtake Lightning and Possum.

  Down the field they flew. She could hear the whooping and hollering of the crowd behind her. But this was no time to think about them. She needed to think about Prince.

  By the time she reached the tree, Ruby Mae and Lundy were in the lead as their two stallions, Lightning and Prince, struggled to win. She eased to the right of the tree, while Lundy and his horse went to the left. It was all she could do to rein in Prince. The leather straps burned in her hands as she slowed him down to a fast trot. “Whoa, boy, whoa,” she cried. “We’re only halfway home.”

  At the sound of her voice, Prince responded instantly. Pulling hard on the left rein, Ruby Mae turned him in a tight veer. She nearly lost her balance, the turn was so sharp, but she grabbed a hunk of Prince’s mane and held on for dear life.

  She was still trying to regain her seat as she signaled him back into an all-out gallop. Possum, Robert E. Lee, and Peg were just approaching the tree. The field ahead of her was clear. She didn’t want to look around for Lundy and lose a precious second.

  “Go, Prince!” Ruby Mae cried, giving him a hard kick with her heels.

  Just then, she heard the sound of thundering hooves coming from her right. It was Lightning, closing in fast. He was going to ram right into her!

  “I’ll get you yet, preacher-horse!” Lundy screamed.

  Frantically, Ruby Mae yanked back on the reins. Prince hesitated, the
n pulled back to a trot. Lundy and Lightning zoomed past, just inches from Prince’s head.

  What if I hadn’t slowed? Ruby Mae wondered for a split second. Was Lundy such a bully that he would have risked his own horse? Or was he just sure that, because she was a girl, she would stop to save Prince . . . and herself?

  Well, she thought fiercely, there’s no point in being too sure, Lundy Taylor.

  “Get him, Prince!” Ruby Mae screamed. She pushed him into a full gallop, and Prince was glad for the chance.

  Twenty yards ahead of them—an impossible distance to make up—Lundy and Lightning were flying across the field to the cheers of the crowd. We don’t have a chance, Ruby Mae thought. She knew there was no way Prince could catch Lightning now.

  Fortunately, Prince did not know any such thing. Driven by the sight of another horse so close at hand, he dug his hooves deeper into the soft soil. His neck lunged. His mouth foamed. His feet flew so fast it seemed to Ruby Mae that she and Prince were no longer touching ground at all.

  Faster and faster. He hurled himself on. Lundy glanced back. Ruby Mae could see both surprise and panic on his face. He whipped Lightning’s shoulder with his reins. “Git on, you old nag!” he screamed.

  But it was too late. Prince was not about to let Lightning win. In a final, wild surge, he flung himself forward, past Lundy and the crowd, past Miss Alice, and over the finish line. He didn’t want to stop running, didn’t seem to care where he was going, as long as he and Ruby Mae could fly through the air together.

  Ruby Mae let him circle the crowd, still galloping. Finally she reined him into a fine trot. He pranced across the field toward the cheers, proud and haughty. His head was high, and so was Ruby Mae’s. She caught sight of Miz Christy, waving and cheering. Ruby Mae’s mother was smiling, nodding her head. Rob Allen gave her a wink. Lundy was scowling, of course, shooting daggers at Ruby Mae with his eyes.

  Then she noticed her stepfather. His gun was cradled in his arms. He wasn’t exactly smiling, you couldn’t say that. But he was looking at her like he’d never quite seen her before.