“Don’t speak too soon, Miz Christy,” Ruby Mae warned. “This ain’t over yet.”
Seventeen
An hour later, everyone assembled in the pasture to watch the great competition unfold. Miss Alice, Miss Ida, and David were there, and so was Doctor MacNeill, who’d run into Lundy and Ruby Mae as they were bringing Prince back to the mission.
Prince seemed happy to see all his old friends, and to be the center of attention once again. But as soon as he caught sight of Mr. Collins, he tried to bolt.
“Whoa, boy,” Ruby Mae said soothingly, clinging to the horse’s bridle. “He ain’t a-goin’ to hurt you. Not while we’re around to protect you.”
“I told you that horse lacks manners,” Mr. Collins said. “You can’t handle him any better than I can.”
“Just keep your distance,” Ruby Mae snapped, “and I’ll handle him just fine.”
“All right,” Christy announced, “it’s time for the competition to begin. Each participant will attempt to make three clean jumps over that fence. The person with the most clean jumps wins.”
“And no saddle, neither,” Ruby Mae reminded her.
“All jumps will be bareback,” Christy added. “Now, who would like to go first? Why don’t we toss a coin? Doctor MacNeill, you may do the honors.”
Doctor MacNeill retrieved a coin from his pocket. “Ruby Mae, call it when I toss the coin in the air.”
“Heads!” Ruby Mae called as the coin spun around.
“Heads, it is,” Doctor MacNeill reported.
“Then I’ll go first,” Ruby Mae said.
While David helped Ruby Mae mount Prince, Lundy swaggered over to Mr. Collins. “She’ll show ya how it’s done,” he said, hooking his thumb at Ruby Mae. “Even if she is a girl, she’s the finest rider around these parts.”
“I doubt that’s saying much,” Mr. Collins sneered.
Ruby Mae gave Prince a gentle nudge with her knees, and he took off at an easy trot around the pasture. They moved together effortlessly. When she eased Prince into a full gallop, it was breathtaking to watch. Horse and rider glided over the grass, Prince’s hooves thundering on the ground.
“Look at ’em go,” Mountie said to Christy. “Ain’t it just the purtiest thing to watch?”
Ruby Mae moved Prince around until he was facing the broken piece of four-foot-high fence that the children used for practicing jumps. They approached at a nice, steady pace, never wavering.
At just the right moment, Ruby Mae eased forward, holding tightly to Prince’s mane. In one graceful move, Prince launched into the air like a huge bird. He and Ruby Mae sailed over the fence, and for a moment, the sound of his hooves fell silent, and the only noise was the gasp of the crowd.
He landed gently just past the mud hole on the other side of the fence. Ruby Mae turned to the crowd and gave a confident wave. Her classmates roared their approval.
“Well, I’ll be,” Uriah muttered. “That gal can ride, all right!”
“Shut up, Wynne,” Mr. Collins snapped, “or you’ll be looking for work.”
Twice more, Ruby Mae took Prince over the fence. Twice more, the crowd broke into happy applause.
Ruby Mae reined Prince in to an easy trot, and brought him back to Mr. Collins. “See?” she said. “Ain’t nothin’ to it.” She slipped off Prince and passed the reins to Mr. Collins. “Now let’s see what you can do.”
“Perhaps—” Mr. Collins gazed up at the stallion nervously, “perhaps we should wait a few minutes. After all, he’s probably quite winded.”
“Naw.” Ruby Mae shook her head. “Prince could jump a dozen o’ those without breakin’ a sweat. He’s all nice and warmed up for you. Go on. I can’t wait to see how a real, for-true e-ques-tri-an rides.”
Eighteen
Mr. Collins grimaced. “I’ll need a leg up. Uriah, come here. Cup your hands, and I’ll use them instead of stirrups.”
Uriah obliged, groaning under the weight. Prince danced around nervously, but Ruby Mae held him steady.
Awkwardly, Mr. Collins settled on Prince’s back. Ruby Mae stepped aside. “Good luck to ya. Remember, take it nice and easy.”
“I don’t need your advice.”
Mr. Collins dug his boot heels into Prince’s sides. The stallion reared up in surprise. Mr. Collins clung to Prince’s neck, and after a moment, the horse settled down.
This time, Mr. Collins cracked his riding crop on Prince’s flank, sending the horse into a wild gallop.
“Whoa, Nellie,” Ruby Mae said, letting out a low whistle. “That sure is some funny-lookin’ ridin’!”
Struggling to control Prince, Mr. Collins took him around the field twice in an all-out gallop. Finally, with great effort, he managed to face the stallion dead-on toward the fence.
“He’s goin’ too fast,” Ruby Mae whispered to Christy, as Prince pounded toward the fence. “Look—Mr. Collins is losin’ his grip. See how he’s a-startin’ to slip off?”
Suddenly, just as they reached the fence, Prince changed his mind about jumping. He careened to one side of the fence, coming to an abrupt halt.
Whoosh! Mr. Collins did not stop. He flew through the air, right over the fence, and landed with a plop directly in the mud puddle on the other side.
After a moment, he let out a low moan.
“Mr. C!” Uriah called. “You all right?”
Doctor MacNeill, Christy, and the others all ran to check on Mr. Collins.
“You’d better let me check for any broken bones,” the doctor said, kneeling beside the mud-soaked Mr. Collins.
“Unhand me!” Mr. Collins shook off the doctor and slowly stood.
“My, oh my. Would you look at those purty ridin’ clothes, all a-covered with mud?” Ruby Mae said, barely concealing her smile.
“The . . . the brute!” Mr. Collins shook his riding crop at Prince, who was nibbling on some grass nearby, not aware of the trouble he’d caused.
“If that’s how an e-ques-tri-an rides, I think I’ll stick to my way o’ doin’ things,” Ruby Mae continued.
“Um, sir,” Uriah said under his breath, “ya got mud on yer nose.”
Mr. Collins pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face, which only managed to make things worse. Several of the children began giggling uncontrollably. Even Uriah laughed.
“That—that four-legged devil isn’t worth a dollar!” Mr. Collins cried to Christy. “You and your pathetic tots can have him!”
“You mean he’s ours again, for good?” Ruby Mae cried.
“We’ll pay you what you paid us for Prince,” Christy said. “It may take us more than three months, but you’ll get your money back.”
“Just promise me I’ll never have to see his ugly face again,” said Mr. Collins, his voice almost a shout.
With that, he stomped off across the pasture.
Ruby Mae turned to Christy and hugged her. She ran to Prince and hugged him. She even ran to Lundy and hugged him.
“He’s ours! He’s really, truly ours!” she cried.
“Hooray for Ruby Mae!” Mountie exclaimed, and soon the entire group was chanting the same thing, over and over again.
Ruby Mae hopped onto Prince and took a victory lap around the pasture, followed by her classmates.
“So the story has a happy ending, after all,” Miss Alice said to Christy as they watched the joyful children.
“As always, Miss Alice,” Christy replied, “you were right.”
“I think this might be a good time for a prayer of thanksgiving, don’t you?” said Miss Alice, and Christy couldn’t have agreed more.
The next day, another letter arrived for Christy. She opened it to discover a copy of her newspaper article, sent by her mother. “You’re the talk of the town!” she’d written at the top of the page.
After school, Christy held a ceremony in Prince’s honor outside the school. First, she read the article about him aloud.
The children were ecstatic about being “famous”—so much so that they di
dn’t even mind the punishment Christy imposed for their horse-napping escapade. For one month, they had to muck out Prince’s stall, and feed and water him every day.
Prince, however, was completely unimpressed with his new fame. In fact, he tried to eat the article.
“Now that we’re done reading—and nibbling—the article,” Christy said, “I have one other thing I’d like to do. It’s a presentation I’ve been meaning to make to Ruby Mae and Lundy.”
Christy handed Lundy a wooden box. “Ruby Mae,” she said, “why don’t you open it?”
While Lundy held the box, Ruby Mae lifted the cover and gasped. “It’s Prince’s blanket! And his bridle! Miz Christy, how did you ever find them?”
“I’ve been saving them,” Christy replied. “I had a feeling they might come in handy someday. That’s one thing I’ve learned these past few weeks, children. Never, ever, give up hope.”
Brotherly
Love
Contents
The Characters
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
About the Author
The Characters
CHRISTY RUDD HUDDLESTON, a nineteen-year-old schoolteacher in Cutter Gap.
GEORGE HUDDLESTON, Christy’s fifteen-year-old brother.
MR. AND MRS. HUDDLESTON, Christy’s parents.
AUNT LUCY, Christy’s aunt.
GRANDMOTHER AND GRANDFATHER HUDDLESTON, Christy’s grandparents.
CHRISTY’S STUDENTS:
CREED ALLEN, age nine.
LITTLE BURL ALLEN, age six.
BESSIE COBURN, age twelve.
RUBY MAE MORRISON, age thirteen.
MOUNTIE O’TEALE, age ten.
CLARA SPENCER, age twelve.
JOHN WASHINGTON, age ten.
PRINCE, a black stallion.
GOLDIE, Miss Alice’s palomino mare.
DAVID GRANTLAND, the young minister.
FAIRLIGHT SPENCER, a mountain woman who is a good friend of Christy’s.
MR. BURNS, George’s Latin teacher.
MISS MURKOFF, Mr. Koller’s secretary.
PETER SMITHERS, a student at the Bristol Academy.
One
Miz Christy, I brung you some flowers. Some magic flowers.”
Christy Huddleston smiled at nine-year-old Creed Allen, one of her most mischievous students. He stood before her desk, smiling his Tom Sawyer grin. His hands were empty.
“Invisible flowers,” she exclaimed. “My favorite kind!” She made a show of accepting her imaginary bouquet. “Thank you, Creed. Now it’s time to get to your seat. The noon break is over, and we’ve got an English lesson waiting.”
“They ain’t invisible, Miz Christy,” Creed insisted. “They’s magic.”
He glanced over his shoulder at his classmates, who were watching him expectantly. Then, with a flourish, he waved his hand.
Suddenly, to Christy’s amazement, he presented her with a bouquet of brightly colored paper flowers.
“Creed!” she cried. “They’re beautiful! But . . . how did you ever—”
“Like I said,” Creed said, strutting back to his desk, “they’s magic.”
Christy examined the colorful “bouquet.” It was a simple magic trick. In fact, her own brother, George, used to perform the same trick when he was younger. But where on earth would a poor child like Creed get hold of something like this? Her students’ families couldn’t afford shoes or food, let alone magic paper flowers!
“You know, my little brother used to do a magic trick like this,” Christy said.
“You mean George?” Creed asked.
“Why, yes. I guess I must have mentioned him before.”
“No’m.”
“Then how did you know his name?”
Creed grinned from ear to ear. “Could be ’cause he’s hidin’ behind that there blackboard, a-waitin’ to surprise you!”
Before Christy could utter another word, out jumped George from behind the blackboard. He ran to her, lifted her right up out of her chair, and swung her around in a circle.
“Hey, there, Sis! Surprised?”
“George! I can’t believe it’s really you!” Christy laughed. “Now, please put me down. I’m getting dizzy.”
George looked like their father, with his chiseled chin and his deep blue eyes framed by dark lashes. However, their faither had a solemn, worried air about him, but George always seemed ready to take on the world. And, like their mother, he had an infectious laugh and a dimpled grin that was hard to ignore.
Christy had also inherited their father’s blue eyes, but she had their mother’s delicate build. And when it came to personality, she was much more like their father than George was. She was responsible, kind, and quick to worry.
“Class,” Christy said, straightening her dress, “I’d like you to meet my brother, George Huddleston.”
“Oh, I’ve already met a few of these characters,” George said, winking at Creed. “I taught Creed that magic trick during the break while you were reading to some of the other children. He’s a quick study.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Oh, just an hour or so. I walked from El Pano. Got lost a few hundred times. Then I did a quick tour of the mission. Love what you’ve done with the place, by the way.”
“I don’t understand,” Christy said. “Shouldn’t you be at boarding school?”
George rolled his eyes. “So much for the postal service. Didn’t you get my letter?”
“Letter? No. I haven’t had a letter from you in ages, George,” Christy shook a finger at him, “even though I write you every single week.”
“I know, I know—I’m the world’s lousiest correspondent. But they keep us pretty busy at school, Sis. The thing is, I did write to tell you I was coming,” he grinned, “Or warn you, I guess I should say.”
“Don’t be silly.” Christy gave him a hug. “You know I’m thrilled to see you. But what about school?”
George picked up a piece of chalk from the blackboard. “We had a big storm the other day. It caused a lot of damage. The place is going to be closed for a couple of weeks while they do repairs.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Well, it depends on your point of view. Most of us were pretty excited.”
“Is it my turn?” Bessie asked as she gazed at George.
“Yes,” said George rather matter-of-factly. “Introducing Bessie.”
Bessie twirled in a circle and began pulling handkerchief’s from George’s coat sleeve. To the group’s amusement, George acted more astonished with each handkerchief’s appearance. As the laughter died down, George ran to the blackboard.
With a few quick strokes, George drew a picture of Christy on the blackboard. In it, she was holding a paper flower in her teeth while she graded a stack of papers that towered to the ceiling.
The children laughed uproariously. Christy had to admit it was a very funny portrait. George had always been an excellent artist. In fact, he was good at almost anything he tried—when he applied himself.
“All right, class, settle down,” Christy said, smiling in spite of her stern tone. “My brother is allowed to draw funny pictures of me, but I don’t want the rest of you getting any ideas!”
“Well, well. Don’t you sound just like a real teacher!” George exclaimed.
“I am a real teacher,” Christy replied, trying not to sound defensive. She grabbed the eraser and removed the picture while the children groaned. “You know, I don’t remember hearing anything about a bad storm around those parts,” she said. “You’d think Mother might hav
e mentioned it. I just got a letter from her yesterday.”
George didn’t answer. He turned to the class and said, “How about one more magic trick for the road?”
They applauded wildly. Christy sat at her desk and watched her crazy, wonderful, unpredictable brother “pull” a coin out of Mountie O’Teale’s right ear.
Christy shook her head. Clearly, she had her work cut out for her. It was going to be very hard to top that performance with another grammar lesson.
Two
My, my, will you look at that boy eat?” exclaimed Miss Ida at dinner that evening.
George ladled out another huge helping of mashed potatoes. “Finest food I’ve eaten in a long time, Miss Ida. You’re the real magician around here.”
Miss Ida smiled. “Your brother is such a charmer,” she said to Christy.
Christy grinned with pride. Only a few hours had passed since George’s arrival, and already everyone at the mission seemed to like her brother.
Miss Alice, who’d helped found the mission, had told Christy how bright and entertaining she found George. David Grantland, the mission’s young minister, laughed uproariously at George’s jokes. Miss Ida, David’s sister, was clearly charmed.
And as for Ruby Mae Morrison, the thirteen-year-old girl who lived at the mission house— well, she was absolutely smitten. Christy could tell. She’d seen Ruby Mae and her friends go through all kinds of crushes at school. And if the doe-eyed look Ruby Mae was directing at George was any indication, Ruby Mae was already head-over-heels in love.
“Miss Ida, I ate up all your chicken, too,” Ruby Mae said, grabbing for the last of the mashed potatoes. “How come you never compliment my eatin’?”
“Because you eat more than five full-grown men put together,” Miss Ida scolded.
“Nonsense,” Christy said, winking at Ruby Mae. “Ruby Mae has a normal, healthy appetite. Just like me.”
George laughed. “It’s true. Christy could out-eat me any day of the week.” He shook his head. “I still cannot believe my big sister is a real, live teacher. To me, she’s still just a kid with pigtails and dirty knees, playing with spiders.”
Stage Fright / Goodbye, Sweet Prince / Brotherly Love Page 14