The Doctor's Wife

Chapter 5. Hope

As they continued down the path, Sam Houston directing the way, they heard hoofbeats in the distance. Soon two figures could be seen coming down the dirt road.

David and Jeb. When they caught sight of the women, they quickened their speed.

"Oh thank thee for thy divine providence!" exclaimed Mrs. Alice. "Sam Houston believes he can lead us to the rock in Zady's vision."

It was not a guarantee, they all knew. Zady's vision could have been about anyone or anything. It could have even been a metaphor for something else. If only Fairlight were still alive, she could have helped decipher it. Fairlight. Christy felt hope and this time she would not let it go.

After swapping mounts, the search party--Christy, Mrs. Alice, Jeb, David, and Zady--let themselves be directed by Sam Houston, who rode with David.

"I don't understand. We've ridden this way now multiple times," said David. "And this is the way he would've come to the mission."

"The rock isn't on the main path," explained Sam Houston. "There's a small trail that leads off into the brush. I know it because Doc showed me the way before."

"Is it a shortcut?" asked Mrs. Alice.

"No'm. But it does lead past a good fishing hole and then back up to the main road," answered Sam Houston. "I reckon do you think he stopped to fish?"

"He was expected at the mission. I don't think he would have stopped to fish. Maybe for a scenic route," David replied. He tried to hide the skepticism from his voice with the last sentence. He feared what would it would mean if they came to rock and Neil was not there, and also began to pray.

"Neil!"

"NEEIIILLLL!"

The voices were back. Or was he imagining them?

It had been close to four hours, now, he thought, by where the sun was in the sky. He was so tired and had given up trying to keep his eyes open. He had stopped shivering. It would be over soon, unless they found him quickly. His exhausted body was giving out. He fought to keep his eyes open, but his mind kept shifting back to her...He didn't know if he was dreaming or awake anymore. Or hallucinating. If he was dreaming, there was no more Christy. No more dancing. Just the sounds of a bubbling stream and darkness. Then he remembered the silver tray and forceps. His red, cold-enflamed hands could barely grasp the tools, but he tried to clang the metal together again. And again.

"DOCTOR!"

"DOCTOR MACNEILL!"

"NEIL!"

Men's voices. Jeb Spencer. Mrs. Alice. They were getting closer now if he could make out their identities.

He felt dizzy and unfocused, and more tired than he'd ever felt in his life, but he continued to clang the tools together. There was no way they'd know to look down here unless he helped them. His hands weakened and with a splash the forceps dropped back into the water. Damn. This was not working.

He tried to cry out again, but his voice was hoarse and weak. He felt like he was on fire. The blood is just rushing to your core now. Deep breaths. He began to dream of her again. This time he was swabbing her brow as her fevered head lolled from side to side. Mrs. Alice stood in the doorframe, watching, her hands absently wringing a white cloth.

"Neil."

"Alice! You came out in this storm?"

"I'm glad I did."

He turned back to Christy. Except now, Margaret lay in her place.

"Margaret..."

Had he imagined the young schoolteacher?