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    Midnight Rescue: Christy of Cutter Gap, #4
    Midnight Rescue: Christy of Cutter Gap, #4
    Midnight Rescue: Christy of Cutter Gap, #4
    Ebook104 pages1 hour

    Midnight Rescue: Christy of Cutter Gap, #4

    By Catherine Marshall

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    About this ebook

    "Hey, boy—" she began, and then her heart turned cold as stone. Prince was gone! Even in the twilight gloom, she could tell that he was nowhere in the pasture.

    Young Ruby Mae Morrison and the mission's black stallion vanish in a furious storm and Christy is determined to find them. As Christy desperately searches for Ruby Mae in the cold, blinding rain, she runs headlong into three angry moonshiners bent on revenge against anyone who might try to stop their illegal activities.  

    Can Christy survive this most terrifying test of her faith and courage? 

    Based on Catherine Marshall's novel Christy—a New York Times bestseller—the Christy® of Cutter Gap series contains expanded adventures filled with romance, intrigue, and excitement. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherEvergreen Farm Publishing
    Release dateSep 26, 1995
    ISBN9781683701743
    Midnight Rescue: Christy of Cutter Gap, #4
    Author

    Catherine Marshall

    I was born in Yorkshire, England, one of five children. Mum was a Geordie, and Dad was a Yorkshireman, an interesting mix. We migrated to Australia in 1960 as ten-pound-poms. A biomedical scientist by profession, I'm now retired and living in Tasmania. I spend my time writing, researching my family tree and enjoying the company of my children and grandchildren. My books have been inspired by our family history, passed down through the many tales our parents told us – no doubt much embroidered but endlessly entertaining.

    Read more from Catherine Marshall

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      Book preview

      Midnight Rescue - Catherine Marshall

      The Characters

      Christy Rudd Huddleston, a nineteen-year-old girl

      Christy’s Students:

      Rob Allen, fourteen

      Creed Allen, nine

      Little Burl Allen, six

      Bessie Coburn, twelve

      Lizette Holcombe, fifteen

      Wraight Holt, seventeen

      Mountie O’Teale, ten

      Ruby Mae Morrison, thirteen

      John Spencer, fifteen

      Lundy Taylor, seventeen

      David Grantland, the young minister

      Ida Grantland, David’s sister

      Alice Henderson, a Quaker mission worker from Ardmore, Pennsylvania

      Dr. Neil MacNeill, the physician of the Cove

      Jeb Spencer, a mountain man

      Fairlight Spencer, his wife

      (Parents of Christy’s student John)

      Duggin Morrison, stepfather of Ruby Mae Morrison

      Mrs. Morrison, Ruby Mae’s mother

      Tom McHone, a mountain man

      Bird’s-Eye Taylor, feuder and moonshiner

      (Father of Christy’s student, Lundy)

      Ben Pentland, the mailman

      Jake Pentland, Ben’s nephew

      Elias Tuttle, owner of the El Pano general store

      Bob Allen, keeper of the mill by Blackberry Creek

      (Father of Christy’s students, Rob, Creed, and Little Burl)

      Granny O’Teale, great-grandmother of Christy’s student, Mountie

      Jubal McSween, a moonshiner

      Janey Cook, a pregnant mountain woman

      Prince, black stallion donated to the mission

      Goldie, mare belonging to Miss Alice Henderson

      Lightning, dapple-gray stallion belonging to Lundy Taylor

      Robert E. Lee, chestnut mare belonging to Ben Pentland

      Possom, bay gelding belonging to Elias Tuttle

      Pegasus (Peg), piebald mare belonging to Rob Allen’s father, Bob

      Old Theo, crippled mule owned by the mission

      Bill, Dr. MacNeill’s horse

      Mabel, one of the schoolhouse hogs

      Scalawag, raccoon belonging to Creed Allen

      ‡

      One

      May I have this dance, Miss Huddleston?

      Christy Huddleston grinned. I have to warn you, David. I’m not a very good dancer.

      Then we’ll make the perfect couple.

      Christy joined David Grantland on the wide lawn in front of the mission house where she lived. David, the young mission minister, looked especially charming today. He was wearing his best suit, and his dark hair was slicked back neatly. Christy wore her favorite dress, made of bright yellow linen with crisp white lace down the bodice. In her braided, sun-streaked hair she wore a matching yellow bow.

      Today, Saturday, April 6, 1912, everyone in Cutter Gap was wearing their Sunday-best clothes, which for most people here in this community were not much more than rags. Christy’s dress was by far the nicest. It was Miss Alice Henderson’s birthday, and Christy and David had arranged a party in her honor.

      Miss Alice had been a pillar in the community ever since she helped establish the mission school where Christy taught. She cared for the sick and ministered to the needy. And Miss Alice had often been a wise voice in times of trouble. Everyone from this mountain cove knew and respected her. People had even come from as far away as El Pano and Cataleechie, over rugged mountain trails, to attend her birthday party.

      It was turning out to be quite a celebration too. On this early April afternoon, the air was warm and sweetly scented. The Great Smoky Mountains in this remote corner of Tennessee had finally begun to cast off the winter gloom. Children danced and twirled to the music of dulcimer and fiddle. The mountain women wore sprigs of flowers in their hair. Even Cutter Gap’s gruff Dr. Neil MacNeill wore a daffodil in his lapel.

      It was all so different from the fancy afternoon teas Christy used to attend back home in Asheville, North Carolina. She’d left her well-to-do family to come teach in Cutter Gap just four months ago. When she’d first arrived, these mountain people had seemed backward, poor, and uneducated. Sometimes Christy had even found them frightening. But many things had changed—herself included—in those few short months. And now, when she looked around the lawn, she saw past the shabby clothes and the bare feet. Instead, among the crowd she saw some of her students and her friends. And the memories of Asheville seemed a little dull by comparison.

      David had just put his arm around Christy’s waist when suddenly three large hogs came racing across the lawn, squealing loudly. They were being chased by Creed Allen, an energetic nine-year-old. Two of the hogs, which lived under the school, had bright pink bows tied around their necks. Creed was carrying a third bow.

      Christy and David had to jump back to avoid being trampled. ’Scuse us, Miz Christy and Preacher, Creed yelled as he ran.

      Looks like Creed is dressing the school pigs for Miss Alice’s party, David said.

      I’m certain that Miss Alice will feel honored, Christy said with a laugh. Now, where were we?

      Again David put his arm around Christy’s waist. Awkwardly, Christy placed her hand on David’s shoulder. He was taller than she was by several inches, with a lean build and wide-set brown eyes.

      You look quite lovely this afternoon, David said a little nervously. Like . . . like the prettiest flower in these mountains. He looked at the ground and shrugged. Sorry. Awfully corny, I know. I guess I speak a better sermon than I do a compliment.

      It was a wonderful compliment, Christy said. Not that I deserve it, mind you.

      And the truth was she didn’t. She knew that her face was a little too plain, her blue eyes a little too big, for her to ever be considered truly beautiful. Still, she felt almost beautiful, seeing the way David was looking at her with a mixture of hope and nervousness.

      On the front porch of the mission house, several of the mountain men played a sprightly tune. Jeb Spencer, the father of several of Christy’s students, was strumming his dulcimer, a boxlike stringed instrument with a sweet tone. Duggin Morrison was tapping a pair of spoons on his knee while Tom McHone sawed away on a worn-looking fiddle.

      The doors and the windows of the white, three-story mission house were wide open. From the living room came the sounds of the mission’s new grand piano, as Wraight Holt, one of Christy’s older students, played along.

      Before Christy and David could begin dancing, the song came to an end. All right, then, David said with a rueful laugh, we’ll dance this next tune.

      How come you’re not playing your ukelele, David? Christy asked.

      There’s plenty of time for that, David said. I wanted to dance with you first. And as soon as Tom gets done tuning that fiddle of his . . .

      Christy laughed. You may regret it.

      I could never regret it, David said, suddenly sounding very sincere. Then he laughed again. Besides, you’re the one being brave, risking your feet this way.

      Not so brave, came a male voice from nearby. After all, she danced with me at the mission open house a while back. I doubt you can be any worse a dancer than I, David.

      Christy grinned as Dr. MacNeill strode over. He was a big, ruggedly handsome man. His tousled red hair gave him a boyish look. He had a way of smiling at Christy with his hazel eyes that made her feel like he could read her mind.

      Oh, you weren’t so bad, Christy teased. The truth was the doctor had turned out to be a surprisingly good dancer, but there was no point in telling David that. She had noticed there were times when the two men seemed

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