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A New Love Deserved

By Linda Ellen (Linda4him59)

January 2010

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman (but those people aren't using them anyway!)

CHAPTER ONE

She wiped another tear from her face and averted her eyes from the oncoming bright lights as the rain continued to fall into the night.

The windshield wipers kept a steady beat as Michaela Quinn-Lewis drove on; stubbornly determined to make it to her destination before another day dawned. No, I'm just Michaela Quinn again, she reminded herself. Now she would be a single mother to Matthew, Colleen and Brian.

Glancing to her right and stretching up to check the backseat in the rearview mirror, Michaela was relieved that the children were still asleep. She was exhausted, her neck and back hurt from the hours of driving and her eyes from crying, but she didn't want to have to find a place to stop and drag the kids out into the rain. Truth be told, she was glad for a little peace and quiet to just drive and think. Having already crossed into Colorado, she estimated she only had two to three hours more driving and they would be there.

What an emotional, stressful journey this has been, she reflected ruefully. Traveling on I-90, the children's tears over leaving Boston to move to Colorado and arguments between the three lasted clear across Massachusetts, then settled into bickering across New York. Snipping and insults continued across the tip of Pennsylvania and then dissolved into complaining across the top of Ohio. By the time they crossed the line into Indiana, Michaela had had enough and stopped at the first motel she could find.

After a fitful night's sleep for all of them, they arose to the unwelcome sight of thick dark rain clouds, which now seemed to be stalking them across the country. Tired of their CD's and DVD's, the morning had brightened a little after Michaela found several good radio stations the kids could sing along with and interesting sites through upper Illinois to keep their attention, but things degenerated again as the day wore on and tempers shortened.

Stopping at a McDonald's for a late lunch didn't help, with an obviously new counter girl getting all their orders wrong – Brian hates mustard, Colleen hates onions, Matthew hates cheese, the burgers were "cold", the fries too "salty", the cokes "too strong" - the complaints seemed endless. Then the sky dumped water on them just as they were running to the car, so they spent the next hour trying to dry off until finally Michaela stopped beneath an overpass and retrieved dry clothes from their bags in the cargo area of their '08 Escalade. They settled down a little after that and traveling on I-80 through the middle of Iowa would have been almost pleasant if not for the incessant rain.

Somewhere in Nebraska they stopped for a late supper in a tiny roadside diner where the food was good and the atmosphere quite homey. After about ninety minutes they were all in better spirits. Michaela smiled now as she remembered that as they rose to leave, their waitress, a sweet older lady, insisted on praying for their safety and eventual happiness on their momentous journey and new life in Colorado.

"May God grant all of you safety, peace, happiness, and new friends...and new love, in the Name of Jesus Christ I pray, Amen," she had concluded with a knowing smile. Michaela had felt a pleasant warmth come over her as she listened to the woman's prayer. "Amen," they had all echoed.

New love. Michaela now shook her head sadly. She didn't think she'd ever find real love with a man. Maybe she didn't deserve it. But somehow the woman's prayer had touched her profoundly. Was love really in her future? Romantic love? The kind you read about in books and see in the movies? Or was it better to just resign herself to the way things were, living her life as a single mother, and not spend time looking for something she may never find?

David. Dr. David Lewis, her husband of seven years. How could she have been so wrong about him? She'd tried hard to make it work, but had realized not long after their marriage that all of her friends, family – and even his family – had been right. He hadn't loved her or wanted to be married at all. He was such a liar and what people used to call a "cad." He'd thought marrying her would speed his assent up the career ladder and that she was going to inherit a lot of money from her father. When he found out that Josef Quinn consistently gave the bulk of his money to charities, only keeping enough to ensure that the family was comfortable, he allowed the pretense to slip and only played the dutiful husband in front of others.

Then when her best friend Charlotte had died from Staph infection in the hospital shortly after giving birth to her third child and begged Michaela to take and raise her children, things with David took a total nosedive.

Michaela cringed as she remembered some of the fights they'd had about the children. How cold he was toward them, not wanting to be a father figure or really to have anything to do with them at all. After six years as their guardian and now truly feeling like a mother to them, it angered her to remember David's hurtful words over the years.

As she drove along the well-lit highway in the rain, her thoughts drifted back to that last confrontation with her now soon-to-be ex-husband.

"I told you when you first took them in that I wanted no part of it!" David had shouted despite her attempts to get him to keep his voice down so the children wouldn't hear. "You knew I never wanted kids anyway, much less somebody else's!"

"But David, they're such good kids," Michaela had argued, "Charlotte did such a great job with them and we've had Brian since he was a baby – I'm the only mother he's ever known and you're the only fath-" "Don't say it!" David swiftly interrupted. "I'm not now, nor will I EVER be, a father to those kids!"

"How can you say things like that!" Michaela hissed at him. "What kind of man ARE you that you would continue to hurt innocent children like this?" The argument had gone downhill from there, words and hurt feelings flying in all directions.

"I'll tell you what, Michaela," David had finally growled, "I've had it! I want out. I've been meaning to tell you this for awhile now, but...I've found someone else."

Michaela just stared at him. Numb. Truly she wasn't surprised, she'd suspected his infidelity for years since he hardly ever graced her with his presence in their bed; he'd just never come out and admitted it before.

"I want a divorce," David continued coldly. "I'm leaving. Tonight."

"It's that trollop, that unit secretary at the hospital, isn't it?" Michaela sneered.

"Don't call her that! At least she knows how to make a man happy!" he had shot back at her. "Lisa's a lot more woman than you'll ever be!"

Coming back to the present, Michaela shook her head to clear her thoughts of the awful memory. Squaring her shoulders and wiping a weary hand over her face and eyes, she reached beside her for the thermos of coffee she'd filled at the last rest stop and downed the remaining ounces of still-warm liquid.

Determinedly turning her thoughts to a different subject, she went over in her mind the details of the new life she and the children were entering.

A small medical clinic in rural Colorado. She smiled as she remembered her mother and sisters' shock after she had told them her plans. "Why so far away?" her mother had whined. "You've never lived anywhere but the east coast, Michaela. What if you hate it out west? Can't you just find employment here? You know you and the children can always live here until..."

"Mom..." Michaela had begun wearily.

"Mother..." Her sister Rebecca had interrupted, placing a supportive arm around Michaela, for which the latter was immensely grateful. Rebecca had always been the one Michaela could go to, the one who understood her and never judged her unfairly. The one who knew every detail of the farce of a marriage she and David had maintained. "I'm sure Michaela has put a lot of thought into this decision, and I understand why she wants to get away and start her life over."

Yes, I had to get away from there...from Boston...from all of the memories and mutual acquaintances from my "life" with David. Out from under his thumb where she could breathe again, where she could begin the arduous task of rebuilding her shattered self-confidence and her shredded self-esteem.

I'm so glad I took the initiative to keep my Massachusetts State medical licenses current, although David did everything he could to talk me out of it, Michaela thought with a smirk. Glad, too, that Colorado's Medical Board was very helpful in assisting her to obtain licenses for their state. How could I have let him brainwash me into giving up practicing medicine? After all the years of study, the sacrifices, the medical school tuition!

As she drove on in the rain, she once again steered her mind away from David, instead focusing on trying to remember the details of her soon to be office/home that a Ms. Dorothy Jennings had given her in a series of cross country phone calls and emails.

"We are very fortunate to have an office and home all ready for you – even furnished – as our last doctor passed away leaving no relatives," Ms. Jennings had informed her. "It's about twenty miles south of Colorado Springs. The building faces the road with the front two rooms being the office space. Then behind those rooms are a large kitchen/living area with two bedrooms and a bath upstairs. It's owned and maintained by Mr. Sully, as it is located on land his family designated for the purpose decades ago," Dorothy continued, sounding very much the newspaper reporter she claimed to be.

Mr. Sully. Michaela tried to picture this man, soon to be her pseudo landlord, although Ms. Jennings assured her she wouldn't be required to pay rent for the building, she'll only need to pay for her own Internet & Satellite TV service. (This was an absolute must for she had promised the children that they weren't descending into the dark ages!)

Ms. Jennings went on to explain that the office serves a small rural community unofficially known as "Sully's Junction," consisting of two dozen or so mobile homes, a small café (run by a Grace Smith), Bray's Grocery & Hardware/post office (run by a Mr. Loren Bray and his assistant, Horace Bing), a barber shop/beauty salon (run by Jake & Teresa Slicker, with Ms. Jennings using a room at the back for her Colorado Springs Rural Gazette), a small gas/service station (run by Robert E.-Grace's husband, who also performs occasional blacksmithing and odd jobs), and finally a small non-denominational church (pastored by Rev. Timothy Johnson).

The newspaper woman shared with her that Mr. Sully's family had owned hundreds of acres of the surrounding land at one time, operating the M & S Ranch, but hard times and progress had caused the Sully holdings to dwindle in size until now the original homestead on about thirty acres are all that is left. Mr. Sully runs a small cattle/horse operation and is apparently a divorce' raising a nine year old daughter alone. I wonder what kind of man this Mr. Sully is... I wonder if he resents having to raise his daughter...

Michaela came out of her reverie with a start as she read that the exit for Colorado Springs was coming up in two miles.

She reached into her purse and withdrew the sheet of paper with the address of the clinic, wishing the rain would let up and give her a break. She had made better time than she thought she would, realizing she would be pulling up to her destination around 3 a.m., while it was still dark.

Following her Google Maps instructions, she turned right after taking the exit, then a Parkway and two roads till the fork for Hanover.

"18800 Hanover Road, at the junction with Mine Road. She said the house is on the right, past the junction," Michaela murmured, slowing way down.

"Hmmm, what...?" fourteen-year-old Matthew asked, stretching and rubbing his eyes as he tried to come awake.

"We're almost there," Michaela informed her oldest, glancing quickly at the backseat before resuming her perusal of houses, street signs, and wide-open spaces.

"Help me look for 'Mine Road', it will be on the left," Michaela instructed, glad to have an extra pair of eyes to spot for her.

After a few miles, Matthew sat forward straining his eyes in the wet darkness. "There! There it is, 'Mine Road.'"

"Alright, then the clinic will be just there on the right," she said, slowing to a crawl. "Yes, there it is, thank God! We're finally here!" Michaela exclaimed gratefully.

As she turned the Escalade into the parking spaces in front of the clinic, her headlights illuminated a weathered sign above the door that read, "Medical Clinic—Dr. Ezra Jones." Michaela pulled the vehicle to a stop, turned the key off, and sat back with a sigh of exhaustion and a quick prayer of thanks that they'd made it safely.

Taking a deep shaky breath, she asked, "Will you wake Brian and Colleen while I see about getting the door open? There's supposed to be a key over the door. Oh, and please hand me the flashlight under your seat."

"Sure, Mom," Matthew replied tiredly, handing her the light, then turning to his sister and brother as Michaela got out of the vehicle and ran through the rain to the porch, praying the key would be there as promised.