The Princess Club / Family Secrets / Mountain Madness Read online

  “Liar!” Bird’s-Eye raised his hand to strike her.

  “If I call out, I’ll wake everyone in the house,” Christy said calmly. “And . . . and Mr. Halliday has a gun.” She wasn’t sure if that was true or not. But she certainly hoped it was.

  “I hit you hard enough, Teacher-gal, and you won’t be able to scream,” Bird’s Eye growled. “I oughta—”

  “No!” a small voice cried.

  Christy spun around.

  Ruby Mae stood in the doorway in her cotton nightgown. She was clutching her feather pillow to her chest. She rushed over and grabbed at Bird’s-Eye’s arm with her free hand.

  “Let her be, Mr. Taylor,” she whispered. “I know where the gold is.”

  Bird’s-Eye and Lundy exchanged a wary glance. “I’m waitin’,” Lundy said, jerking his gun at Christy.

  Tears flowed down Ruby Mae’s face. Frantically, she began digging into her pillow. Feathers floated everywhere as she searched.

  “This better not be no trick,” Lundy muttered as he brushed a feather from his face.

  “A-choo!” Bird’s-Eye sneezed. “If’n this . . . achoo! . . . ain’t true, I’ll . . . achoo!”

  “There!” Ruby Mae cried. She dropped a sock onto the bed.

  “Looks like a plain ol’ sock to me,” Lundy said.

  Ruby Mae emptied the sock. Gold nuggets rained onto Christy’s quilt.

  Lundy’s eyes went wide. “So they weren’t lyin’ about the gold! There it is, plain as day, Pa!”

  “Weren’t my gold.” Ruby Mae looked at Christy. “It’s Mr. Halliday’s, I’m pretty sure. I shoulda told him I thought it was his a long time ago. But I was just so darn hopeful . . .” She frowned at Lundy. “And it ain’t yours, neither.”

  Lundy dropped his gun and scooped up the gold into his hands. Bird’s-Eye ran to join him.

  “Looky here, Pa! We is kings now. Just like they was princesses!”

  “I beg to differ with that assessment,” came a voice from the hallway.

  Mr. Halliday appeared in the doorway. He winked at Christy.

  Bird’s-Eye went for his gun, but before he could, there was a loud click. Mr. Halliday trained a silver pistol directly on Bird’s-Eye’s hand.

  “Hand the guns to Miss Christy,” Mr. Halliday said calmly. “And hand my gold to me.”

  Nineteen

  It’s a good thing I’m a light sleeper,” Mr. Halliday said.

  Everyone was gathered around the kitchen table, drinking the warm milk a sleepy Miss Ida had prepared. David and Miss Alice had been roused in their cabins by all the commotion following Lundy and Bird’s-Eye’s rapid departure.

  “I still can’t believe the way Lundy and his pa high-tailed it out of here,” Ruby Mae marveled. “They took one look at that pistol and left their rifles behind!”

  “I still can’t figure out why they didn’t try to break in during the day,” Christy said, shaking her head. “There are fewer people around.”

  “But I’m here,” Miss Ida said, hands on her hips. She held up a frying pan. “And they know I’m well-armed!”

  “One other thing I don’t understand, Mr. Halliday,” said Miss Alice. “Why didn’t you just tell us that the gold was yours?”

  Mr. Halliday looked at Ruby Mae. “I suppose I didn’t want to dash anyone’s dreams. The girls had such high hopes.” He shrugged. “I’ve seen my share of good fortune. But things didn’t turn out exactly as I’d hoped.”

  “Me neither.” Ruby Mae sighed. “I’m right sorry I didn’t ’fess up sooner, about figuring out who the gold belonged to. I pretty much put two and two together—that makes four, by the way!” she added, smiling at Christy. “But I wanted that gold more ’n I wanted to get it to its rightful owner. And look at what it got me. When I think how Lundy and Bird’s-Eye might have hurt you, Miz Christy, I just want to up and die. I’m truly sorry.”

  “I accept your apology, Ruby Mae,” Christy said. She reached across the table and squeezed Ruby Mae’s hand.

  “As do I,” said Mr. Halliday. “And I happen to know a way you can make it up to me. I want you to be sure that everybody in Cutter Gap shows up for church this Sunday.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that myself,” David said with a chuckle.

  “How come?” Ruby Mae asked.

  “We’ve got a photograph to take, young lady. And we want to be sure we get the composition just right.”

  The following Monday, Mr. Halliday emerged from the shed. He handed a photograph to Ruby Mae.

  “Before you give me your opinion,” he said, “I want you to remember that it’s been awhile since I took a photo of real, live people. Mountains sit still. Babies don’t.”

  Ruby Mae studied the black and white photograph. There, in front of the church, were the residents of Cutter Gap. They stood stiffly, most barefoot. Some people smiled. Most did not.

  Granny O’Teale was in the front row, leaning on her cane. Little Mountie stood beside her, clutching her hand. The preacher, Miz Alice, Miz Ida, and Miz Christy were there. Doc MacNeil was scowling at the camera in that way he had, looking gruffer than he really was.

  Ruby Mae’s eyes fell on three girls, clumped together at the end of a row. They were sharing a smile between them, as if they knew a secret. They looked proud and silly and happy, all at once.

  If you squinted just right and didn’t think too hard, they even looked a tiny bit like princesses.

  “Well,” Mr. Halliday said hopefully, “what do you think?”

  “I think,” said Ruby Mae with a grateful smile, “that the composition is just about perfect.”

  Early the next morning, Ruby Mae and her friends watched as Mr. Halliday packed up Clancy and prepared to leave.

  “Don’t forget these sandwiches I packed,” Miz Ida said, tucking them into Mr. Halliday’s knapsack. “And there’s fried chicken, too.”

  “Ida, you are too kind,” Mr. Halliday said. He kissed her hand and Miz Ida blushed.

  “Where are you headed now?” Christy asked.

  “Well, I’m starting toward El Pano. David tells me the road is more or less clear. And I’ve got some business to attend to there. Banking business, actually.”

  For a brief moment, Ruby Mae felt a sense of loss of her gold—her gold that was really Mr. Halliday’s gold. He was going to put it in the bank, of course. Well, that was only natural. It needed safe-keeping. And it wasn’t hers to worry about, anyway. Not anymore.

  “I’m opening up a fund there,” Mr. Halliday continued as he adjusted the pack on Clancy’s back.

  “Oh?” Miz Christy asked.

  “An education fund, actually. You might be interested in it. It’s for the children of Cutter Gap. I’m calling it the Princess Fund.”

  “For all us children?” Ruby Mae cried. “For us to go to college and such?”

  Mr. Halliday nodded. “I’ll be adding to it from time to time, as I can.”

  “You’re a wonderful man, Mr. Halliday.” Christy gave him a hug.

  “We’re most grateful,” David added.

  “You know what the Bible says—‘God loveth a cheerful giver.’ It’s easier to part with money than you might imagine. There are many things worth more than gold. Friends, for example. Which reminds me.”

  Out of his pocket, Mr. Halliday pulled three white handkerchiefs, each knotted at the top. He handed one to Ruby Mae, one to Bessie, and one to Clara.

  “A handkerchief?” Bessie asked, brow knitted.

  “There’s some gold dust in each of these,” Mr. Halliday explained. “Not a lot, but perhaps enough to keep those princess dreams alive.”

  “Real live gold dust?” Bessie breathed.

  “Oh, thank you!” Clara cried. “This is the bestest present I ever got!”

  But Ruby Mae was silent. She stared at her handkerchief a long time. “I think,” she said quietly, “we need to have one last meetin’ of The Princess Club before you leave, Mr. Halliday.”

  He looked puzzled. “All right,
then. I can wait.”

  Ruby Mae pulled her friends aside. A few minutes later, she went back to Mr. Halliday, carrying all three handkerchiefs. “We done had a vote,” she said. “We’re givin’ these back to you, if’n you don’t mind.”

  “But . . . why?” he asked, looking a little disappointed.

  “We got somethin’ else in mind for that gold,” Ruby Mae said with a sly smile. “But we need your help.”

  Twenty

  Five weeks later, on a sweltering afternoon, Ben Pentland, the mailman, arrived at the school. Christy was writing addition problems on the blackboard when he peered in the doorway.

  “United States mail, at your service!” he called.

  “Thank you, Mr. Pentland,” Christy said. “Why don’t you just leave the letters on my desk?”

  “Can’t do that, Miz Christy,” he said politely.

  “Why is that?”

  “Mail ain’t for you.” Mr. Pentland grinned. He held up a box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine.

  The children murmured excitedly. “Who’s it for, Mr. Pentland?” Ruby Mae asked.

  Mr. Pentland pretended to study the box at great length. “Why, it says here it’s for none other than a certain Miss Mountie O’Teale!”

  Everyone turned to stare at little Mountie. Her face was white. Her mouth hung slightly open. She gulped.

  “Can’t be,” said one of the older boys. “Who would send a package to Mountie?”

  “Let’s just see about that,” said Mr. Pentland. Again he studied the package. “Return address is kind of queer. Says ‘Care of P.C., Cutter Gap, Tennessee.’ Mountie, you know anybody with the initials P.C.?”

  Mountie shook her head, bewildered.

  With great flair, Mr. Pentland placed the package on Mountie’s desk. “I guess you’ll be a-wantin’ to open it,” he said.

  Mountie barely managed a nod. She was trembling with excitement.

  “Here, Mountie,” Christy said. “I’ll cut the strings with my scissors. Then you can open the rest.”

  When the twine was off, Mountie set about opening the package. The children gathered around in rapt attention. Christie noticed Bessie, Ruby Mae, and Clara standing off to the side, whispering to themselves.

  Slowly, carefully, Mountie tore off the brown paper. Inside was a wooden box. George had to help her yank it open.

  Layers of white paper came next. Mountie pulled off each piece as if the paper itself were a gift.

  Suddenly, she gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. For several moments, she didn’t move.

  “Go on, Mountie,” George urged gently.

  With the utmost tenderness, Mountie reached into the box and lifted a beautiful doll into her thin arms. She stroked the shiny curls. She touched the lace-trimmed gown. Then she held the doll to her heart and kissed her.

  Tears rolled down her face. “It’s her,” she whispered. “My ’maginary dolly.”

  Christy wiped away a tear. She heard quiet sobs behind her and turned.

  Bessie and Clara and Ruby Mae were grinning from ear to ear, their own faces damp with tears.

  Today, Christy thought proudly, they really are princesses.

  Family

  Secrets

  Contents

  The Characters

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  The Characters

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

  CHRISTY’S STUDENTS:

  ROB ALLEN, age fourteen.

  FESTUS ALLEN, age twelve.

  CREED ALLEN, age nine.

  DELLA MAY ALLEN, age eight.

  LITTLE BURL ALLEN, age six.

  WANDA BECK, age eight.

  WRAIGHT HOLT, age seventeen.

  VELLA HOLT, age five.

  MOUNTIE O’TEALE, age ten.

  MARY O’TEALE, age eight.

  RUBY MAE MORRISON, age thirteen.

  CLARA SPENCER, age twelve.

  ZADY SPENCER, age ten.

  LUNDY TAYLOR, age seventeen.

  LOUISE WASHINGTON, age fifteen.

  JOHN WASHINGTON, age ten.

  HANNAH WASHINGTON, age eight.

  DOCTOR NEIL MACNEILL, the physician of the Cove.

  HELEN MACNEILL, the doctor’s grandmother.

  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.

  JAMES BRILEY, former classmate of Doctor MacNeill.

  BOB ALLEN, keeper of the mill by Blackberry Creek.

  MARY ALLEN, Bob’s wife.

  (Parents of Christy’s students Rob, Festus, Creed, Della May, and Little Burl.)

  GRANNY ALLEN, Bob’s grandmother.

  CURTIS WASHINGTON, new arrival to Cutter Gap from Virginia.

  MARGARET WASHINGTON, Curtis’s wife.

  (Parents of Christy’s students Louise, John, and Hannah, and of Etta, a baby girl.)

  WILLIAM WASHINGTON, Curtis’s grandfather, an escaped slave.

  LANCE BARCLAY, an old beau of Christy’s from Asheville.

  GRANNY O’TEALE, a mountain woman.

  SWANNIE O’TEALE, Granny’s daughter-in-law.

  (Mother of Christy’s students Mountie and Mary.)

  AUNT POLLY TEAGUE, the oldest woman in the Cove.

  FAIRLIGHT SPENCER, Christy’s closest friend in the Cove. (Mother of Christy’s students Clara and Zady.)

  LETTY COBURN, a mountain woman.

  SCALAWAG, Creed Allen’s pet raccoon.

  VIOLET, a pet mouse belonging to Hannah Washington.

  PRINCE, a black stallion donated to the mission.

  One

  This is without a doubt the messiest cabin I have ever seen!” Christy Huddleston exclaimed.

  Doctor Neil MacNeill gave a hearty laugh. “I’m a doctor, Christy, not a housekeeper.”

  “Look at this dust.” Christy wrote her name in the thick dust layering a cupboard full of medical books. “It’s a good thing you don’t perform surgery in this room.”

  “Actually, I do, on occasion.”

  Christy pointed to a stuffed deer head mounted on the wall. “Those antlers are covered with spider webs, Neil!”

  Doctor MacNeill crossed his arms over his chest, hazel eyes sparkling. “I was under the impression you were sent here by Miss Alice to pick up some medical supplies. If I’d known there was going to be a housekeeping inspection, I would have prepared.” Playfully, he tossed a feather duster at Christy. “Since you’re so concerned, please feel free to take a whack at the dust.”

  “I can’t stay that long. Besides, anyone who can perform delicate surgery can surely figure out how to operate a feather duster,” Christy replied, laughing. “Before heading back to the mission, I thought I’d say hello to your new neighbors. How are the Washingtons doing, anyway?”

  “Just getting settled in.” The doctor began filling a small glass bottle with the dark, bitter-smelling medicine he and Miss Alice used to treat whooping cough. “They’re in that abandoned cabin, but it’s going to need a lot of repairs. Nice family. Four kids, three school-age.”

  “That’ll bring my grand total up to seventy students,” Christy said. “Amazing. When I decided to come here to Cutter Gap to teach, I pictured perhaps twenty children in my schoolroom at the most. But seventy! That’s quite a handful.”

  The doctor grinned. He was a big man, with rugged, handsome features that looked like they’d been chiseled out of rough stone. His curly, sandy-red hair, always in need of a comb, gave him a boyish look. “For most mere mortals, that many s
tudents would be impossible,” he said. “But for you, my dear Miss Huddleston, nothing is impossible.”

  Christy reached for the next empty new bottle and held it steady while the doctor filled it with medicine. His hands were rough and stained, the mark of long years caring for the desperately poor residents of this Tennessee mountain cove. Although Christy had lived here several months, her own hands seemed fragile and soft by comparison. They were the hands of a “city-gal,” as the mountain people would say.

  In some ways she still was that fresh-faced girl from Asheville, North Carolina—frightened, but full of big dreams. Her wide blue eyes and delicate features made her look younger than her nineteen years. She wore her sun-streaked hair swept up to make herself look older, but Christy knew it didn’t fool anyone.

  The doctor put a stopper in each of the two bottles he’d just filled. He gazed around the cabin with a critical eye. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “This place could use a good cleaning.”

  It was a simple cabin, but well-furnished by mountain standards. A bearskin rug lay on the hearth. An old cherry clock ticked on the mantel. A rack of antlers served as a coat rack. A hunting rifle was propped against the wall in the corner, and a pipe with an engraved silver band rested in the pipe rack by a chair. Framed, inscribed photos, most from the doctor’s years at medical school, peered out from the dusty shelves.

  “Christy,” the doctor said, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Um, ask you. It’s about—” he cleared his throat, “well, about a wedding, actually.”

  Christy blinked in surprise. “A wedding?”

  “Yes, that’s right. And a confession I have to make.”

  The doctor’s fingers were trembling as he reached for another empty bottle. It wasn’t like him to be so nervous, and it certainly wasn’t like him to blush!