Read Bridge to Cutter Gap / Silent Superstitions / The Angry Intruder for Free Online

and Creed stared at Christy. She couldn’t read their faces. Was it curiosity or anger she saw there? Were they thinking that she was . . . that she was the cause of their father’s accident?
    Rob nodded shyly. “Proud to know you,” he said softly. “I been lookin’ forward to your comin’. . . . ” He turned back to his father, his voice trailing off.
    His little brother ran over to eye Christy more closely. Overalls, tousled hair, lots of freckles—he looked like a character out of the book Tom Sawyer . His two front teeth were missing.
    â€œHowdy-do,” he said, head tilted to one side.
    â€œI’m so sorry about your father,” Christy said.
    â€œIt ain’t your fault,” the boy said. “Near as we can figure, Pa was cuttin’ across Pebble Mountain when a high wind come up. A big tulip-poplar tree bumped him right on the head.”
    â€œHow’d you find him, Creed?” Mrs. Spencer asked, running her hand over his tangled hair.
    â€œMe and Rob and John was huntin’ squirrels out thataway. Bait-em—” he turned to Christy, “that’s our old hound dog—well, he nosed Pa right out. Tree was still on him.”
    Within minutes, a crowd began to form in the tiny Spencer cabin. Apparently word traveled fast out here in the mountains, even without telephones. Most of the people gathered seemed to be relatives of Mr. Allen.
    The cabin was nearly full when Christy heard the stomping of feet and the whinny of a horse. A big-boned man strode inside and the crowd parted. He had a shock of reddish, messy hair—hair that looked as if it had not seen a barber in a very long time. His features were rugged. Deep lines etched his face—or maybe it was just the long shadows cast by the kerosene lamp.
    â€œThat be Doc,” Mrs. Spencer said.
    â€œI’ll be needing more light over here,” the doctor said to Mrs. Spencer. His eyes fell on Christy. He stared at her for a moment, an intense gaze that seemed to go right through her, and for some reason Christy felt a blush flare in her cheeks.
    â€œNeil MacNeill,” he said in a deep voice.
    â€œChristy Huddleston. I’m the new—”
    Before she could finish, Dr. MacNeill had turned his back on her. Mrs. Spencer brought another lamp close so he could begin his examination. He took off his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves. The figure lying on the old post-and-spindle bed had not moved.
    Mr. Pentland made his way through the crowd to Christy’s side. “Doc MacNeill’s the only doctor in the Cove,” he explained.
    Christy nodded and smiled up at him. She wished she could let him know how glad she was to have a friend in this awful situation, but an eerie silence had fallen on the room. All eyes were watching the doctor. The lamp cast giant shadows, dancing like monsters ready to spring from the walls. Only the draft of cold air seeping through a crack at Christy’s back told her that this was all actually happening.
    The doctor slid his fingers over Mr. Allen’s head, feeling and probing. He took the patient’s pulse, checked reflexes, opened the eyelids and stared intently into the eyes.
    Finally he spoke, his face grim. “Bob’s bad off,” he said to a woman near the bed.
    â€œWho’s that?” Christy whispered to Mr. Pentland.
    â€œThat’s Mary Allen, Bob’s wife,” the mail-man answered. “And the man with the beard next to her is his brother, Ault.”
    The woman’s face was rigid with fear. “Is he goin’ to die, Doc?”
    The doctor’s voice was gentle. “Don’t know the answer to that, Mary. He’s in a coma now, like a deep sleep. There’s some bleeding inside his skull. If I leave the bleeding there, Bob will die.”
    He paused, looking around the room, as if lost in his own thoughts. For a moment, his eyes met Christy’s. She thought she saw the