The Doctor's Wife

Prologue. Where the Story Begins

Note: I wrote this as a sort of "recap." This prologue is meant to help bridge the end of the book and TV series to 1914, when this story takes place. If you're already familiar with the book and TV series, you can probably skip to Chapter 1. 

Part 1. Neil.

He rose gingerly from the bed so as not to wake her. As he pulled on his breeches, he glanced down at her crumpled skirt and chemise on the floor and smiled at the memory of their late night bedroom romp. He grinned, thinking of how Christy would balk at seeing her things carelessly strewn on the floor. He picked them up, shaking off a small spider, and hung them on the hook by the door. He ran his hand over the soft fabric of her underthing once more, grasping it and holding it to his face, inhaling her scent. 

How had they nearly lost eachother? It was clear she burned for him just as much as he did for her. How funny and infuriating that they'd waited so long to realize--nay, confess--their feelings for eachother.

Bees. Stepping outside to relieve himself, he noticed a honeybee buzzing around a small patch of purple phlox and wondered if it could be from one of the Spencers' hives. He bent down for a closer look, and noted how the bee landed softly on each delicate flower, barely disturbing the drops of dew on each tiny petal. He'd never thought of bees as gentle before, but then had he ever really taken time to watch one so intently?

His thoughts turned to his wife and what her thoughts on bees might be. He chortled at his own juvenile joke. All joking aside, they'd both been preoccupied with their work. Christy had hit the ground running, or rather, trodding, and through a snowstorm, no less. Mrs. Alice had arranged for Bob Allen to fetch Christy from the train station, but as he was nearly murdered that day, there was no one to meet her. And if she'd had any sense, Neil thought, she'd have turned back around and gone home right then. But not Christy Rudd Huddleston.

The 19 year-old school teacher asked around until she learned the mail carrier, Ben Pentland, was on his way to the Cove, albeit on foot. Despite the dangerous snowy conditions and her impractical footwear, Christy managed to charm Ben into letting her tag along. But if she expected fanfare for her show of dedication and determination, her arrival to the Allen cabin went mostly unnoticed. As she stood shivering and muddy in the corner, Neil worked quickly to save Bob's life. And once that excitement was over, Christy settled in at the mission and began teaching school. Neither of them had stopped to take a breath.

Busier than bees. Too busy to even notice a busybee, he thought to himself, chuckling.

But if he was honest with himself, he had noticed her....and loved her from the first time he laid eyes on her.

As he continued his morning preparations, he recalled the first time he saw his bride. The way she came tromping through the Allens' door, with Ben Pentland, half-frozen...such a tiny thing, and clearly an innocent by the way she withdrew to the corner of the cabin. Though her skirts were wet and mud-caked, it was no secret she came from a gentler place--nay, modern civilization.

He recalled thinking she would have to steel herself quickly if she was to survive teaching the rough and tumble children of the Cove, not to mention Mrs. Alice. But he'd also seen the spark in her wide eyes, the determination not to be sick at the sight of a man's head split open on a makeshift operating table.

It had to have been a shock for a young lady of her privileged background--to witness such a sight, and in the Allens' small cabin, filled with the scent of fermenting cabbage and...other odors.

And though she had looked exhausted, she quickly regained her senses and came to his side, eager to be of use, her spunky spirit unshaken...before nearly crumpling to the floor in a dead faint. He'd bellowed for the others to get her out of the way and out of the cabin. But...he knew it then, though Christy herself did not; Christy Rudd Huddleston was cut from the same cloth as the strong, spirited mountain folk she had come to serve.