Missing words

First, there was that long train trip, during which Sully could mull over his decision to undergo such a journey and make good of the promise he had made to Daniel.

You're the most honorable man I know, Michaela had said. She had no idea how many times he had wished he wasn't that honorable and had shrugged off his obligation toward his friend to stay with her! For several days, she had vehemently protested against the eventuality of his departure, coming up with all sorts of excuses why he shouldn't go, and then admitting how much she needed him close, how scared she was of being so far away from him, even if it was merely a physical distance. How could he blame her when he loathed the very same thing? Since they had gotten married, their relationship seemed to have grown more impassioned and absorbing every day. That insatiable need they had of each other went beyond the obsession of some prolonged honeymoon stage. Missing each other wasn't merely a physical emptiness. No, the void was also from missing all the sweet nothings as well as the most dramatic and significant moments that were woven into the fabric of the life they were building together.

Michaela wasn't just his wife in the way she was expected to be – whether among the Whites, the Christians, or even the Cheyenne – she was his partner in everything. She was her equal. And there was something to be said about being the equal to such a woman! He had once told Cloud Dancing that she was an awfully strong force of Nature, and though his comment had been somewhat rueful because of the different that had opposed them, he was nevertheless proud to have won her heart. He who had thought for so long that he was cursed and had resigned himself to a life of loneliness, had ended up having his existence turned upside down by the phenomenon that was Michaela Quinn!

Sometimes he would think about how the attraction, all at once physical, emotional and spiritual he had experienced right from their first meeting could have easily been unrequited, and that idea alone was enough to give him cold sweats… Or Michaela could have tired of waiting for him and answered favorably to William Burke or the Reverend's proposals. She could also have chosen her first fiancé over him… But no: She did love him, she had chosen him, stood by him despite their differences and everything they had gone through that had the power to break any couple apart. This had to mean that their bond was indeed unbreakable and that their destinies had been sealed together even before they pronounced their vows…

Even more extraordinary was that he still had this distinct feeling from the first days of their marriage: that their love, as powerful as it was already, still possessed the potential to bloom further, like an oakling destined to grow into the sturdiest of trees that no storm could ever uproot… He would have to rely on his faith, their faith, in the strength of their love in order to withstand those four weeks apart. And he intended to work hard, so hard that maybe he would be able to come home sooner…

Sully's thoughts turned to Daniel. He wondered how his friend would react when told all that had occurred, and how he would take his new appearance. When Daniel had left Colorado Springs to seek his fortune further West, just after Sully had married Abagail, the latter was still wearing plain wool clothes, and sported short hair and sideburns. They had not seen each other for a whole decade – to Sully it felt an eternity given the amount of trials he had gone through. He didn't have much in common with the young man Daniel surely remembered, save the fact he was as quiet as ever. And he was willing to bet that Daniel had changed, as well… but how much? Would the old buddies even know each other anymore?

Aware that Daniel couldn't read much better than he could write, Sully resorted to a short telegram to confirm the date of his arrival. And now that the train was fast approaching its destination, he wasn't feeling much more prepared for the reunion with his oldest friend. One of his wife's main misgivings about his departure was playing over and over in his mind, and made him worry about Michaela's intuition eventually proving to be a bad omen. Indeed, Daniel had never tried to contact him before, never sending so much of a telegram to let him know where he was. Sully had never forgot his friend, but how could he have possibly keep in touch when he had no clue about Daniel's whereabouts? The ball had been in Daniel's court all this time, so why had he waited so long? Questions and doubts were assailing his mind, but still, until Daniel told him directly what he had been up to for the past ten years, Sully couldn't assume anything. All he could do was waiting for the right opening during a conversation to inquire about the reasons for such a long silence.

Daniel was certainly dumbfounded when he first caught sight of his old friend hoping down the train.

"Sully? I'll be… it that really you?

"Sure is!" Sully couldn't help laughing at Daniel's gaping expression.

Yet, a frank and sturdy embrace was all it took to instantly abolish any apprehension they both had about meeting again after such a long time apart.

"What's that?" asked Daniel, half-amused, half-bemused by his best friend's attire. Had Sully become a trapper, a woodsman making his living from trading and trafficking with Indians? It was hard to picture the sweet and lady-like Abagail accommodating herself to such a modus vivendi…

"That's buckskins, pal!" replied Sully teasingly. His appearance wasn't that much out of place amidst the colorful crowd made of travelers and Virginia City citizens, which counted quite a lot of former miners who had swapped their pickaxes for riffles and traps, and sported fur caps and deerskin jackets, in short typical mountain men as most people back east imagined them.

Daniel hadn't changed much, except that he did look a little older. Sully could also sense that his friend had gained in maturity. No doubt that his lifelong quest for the gold that would make him rich and put paid to his errant existence had eventually taught him the patience and tenacity he had lacked as a quick-tempered boy. The thick flannel of his shirt hugged a sturdier build than the one Daniel had sported when he had left Colorado Springs to head further west, when he still wasn't much more than a rangy twenty-something as feisty as a wild pony .

"You lookin' good, " remarked Sully pointedly, unable to keep the curiosity from his tone.

"Ain't what you think, mate. No I ain't find the right woman to pamper and feed me, and keep me outta trouble!"

"What 'bout the lady who wrote the letter for you? She didn't just do it outta the goodness of her heart now, did she?" Sully pressed on, remembering all too well how Daniel used to make so many young ladies swoon over him. He had been such a charmer, always knowing how to compliment any woman, no matter their age or status, and never missing on an occasion to roll in the hay with the less modest of the girls.

Daniel burst into laughter and clapped his friend's shoulder playfully.

"You know me too well, Sully. Lucky I'm no Catholic or I'd have to confess my sins… Ellen's nice n'pretty, but…"

"You ain't in love."

"Afraid not. I ain't had your luck on that score."

This gave Sully pause. Of course Daniel was talking about Abagail. He needed to be told the truth.

"What? What's the matter? Why the long face?"

"Daniel… you know, lotsa things happen the past few years for me… lots of changes," began Sully. But then he reconsidered, "is there someplace we could go so I'll tell ya everythin', but in private?"

"Er… sure. Might as well head for the minin' camp right now… unless you'd rather sleep in a real bed? There's plenty of fine boardin' houses' round here…"

"Minin' camp's just fine. That way, I'll be right on hand to help ya put up that mine o' yours."

Daniel had another startling surprise to see Sully vault onto a horse's back without a single trace of fear, and quite another that he so effortlessly rode bareback, the way Indians did. This new Sully was decidedly getting more intriguing by the minute!

The day flew by, no matter how succinctly Sully did recount the many trials and tribulations that had befallen him. Daniel was more upset that he imagined he could be when told of Abagail's passing in such circumstances. For as long as he had known Sully, his friend had always longed for a family on his own, and hearing the tragic news made Daniel feel more than a little guilty about the jealousy he had nursed for so long toward the girl who had stolen his best friend's heart and loyalty by offering only a tame, domestic life. At that time, Daniel had thought he still had all the time in the world before settling down with a wife and kids, and wasn't planning to do so any time before he had struck it rich. Meanwhile, adventure, that seductive and demanding mistress, was awaiting him, so he headed out alone as soon as he had wrested the promise out of Sully that he would come to Daniel's aid whenever and wherever needed.

Of course, since Daniel had saved him from that infamous cave-in where he had come within an inch of being buried alive, Sully would have never considered recanting his word. However, if he had confided in Matthew, he hadn't revealed to Michaela the true reason why he just couldn't refuse Daniel call for help. She knew that that he owed Daniel his life, but she still ignored the full circumstances. He figured it would serve no purpose to get Michaela going on about cave-ins and any other possible mining calamities.

As he went on telling Daniel of his life after Abagail and Hanna's deaths, Sully deliberately omitted to mention his brief time as a sniper, instead speaking of his involvement with the Cheyenne, and more specifically of how his friend and mentor Cloud Dancing had saved him from wasting away from grief and despair. He told very little of his task as an Indian Agent, as well, as he was reaching the most important event of all: meeting Michaela.

"She's a real doc, an' all?" exclaimed Daniel, amazed yet incredulous.

"That she is. There's a medical school for ladies in Philadelphia. 'Sides, that woulda been such a waste she didn't become one, seein' how good she is at doctorin'. Without her, the town would've been wiped out from the grippe, not to mention all those folk she's patched up together! Come to think of it, I wouldn't be there either if it weren't for her takin' such good care of me." He paused for effect as he was about to announce something akin to a miracle. "Will ya believe me if I tell ya that thanks to her, Loren forgave me and we're on good terms now?"

"No kiddin'! Sounds like you got yourself quite the prize. No wonder you love her…"

Sully could only smile in answer, his focus slipping from the present and shifting back to his beloved wife, reflecting with some amusement on how different Daniel's conception of the "prize" was from the likes of Preston Lodge's view on the matter, moreover as he had not provided details about Michaela's appearance. An instinctive precaution stopped him from boasting about how beautiful his wife was, and he convinced himself that he wouldn't risk to hurt his friend's pride that way.

"You two got… kids yet?" inquired Daniel somewhat hesitantly after a few moment of silence.

Sully chuckled in anticipation of his friend's reaction: "Yep, three o' them"

Daniel gasped as he did the math. "Three already? How do you ever get any work done, let alone sleep with your brood?"

"We manage. You see, our eldest son is of age, and there's our daughter who likes to take care of the cookin', and our youngest also does his share of chores. We are all workin' together just fine."

"Uh, are they her kids from another marriage, then? She gotta be older than you if she has kids this big already, ain't she?"

Sully shrugged non-committedly, since the two-year-difference in age with his wife had never been an issue between them. But Daniel misunderstood Sully's lack of answer, and once again gave his shoulder a playful shove, "Aahh, c'mon, you're just pullin' my leg, ain't ya?" Like in the good old days…

Sully then launched into the recounting of how Michaela had taken in the three children of Charlotte Cooper, whom Daniel remembered vaguely, and spoke fondly of the none-too-subtle efforts of the siblings to make sure he and their adoptive mother would fall for one another, mentioned the legal battle with Ethan Cooper over Colleen and Brian's custody, and how he had gone from acquaintance to friend to father figure to the Cooper kids. And now the adoption of the two youngest was effective, while Matthew, no matter how fiercely determined he was about proving his worth and independence, still looked up to him the way a son would look up to a father he respected and admire. The family Sully had found with Michaela and Charlotte's children filled him with joy and pride, unorthodox as it was. Taking in three youngsters who weren't related to him at all would have seemed too heavy a responsibly to most men he knew, but to him it had only made him a better man.

"With already three younguns, you two ain't gonna want a baby, are ya?" The question fused before Daniel could realize he probably made a faux-pas. "Huh, well, I reckon you don't wanna take risk after… what happened… before…" he added.

Wanting to ease his friend's obvious discomfiture, Sully simply smiled and answered truthfully, "Sure we'd like to have a baby on our own…"

"That'd be great, Sully. I'd be real happy for you if… when you have a baby. For both of ya."

And Daniel meant it. He realized he no longer felt any jealousy toward his best friend, that his second chance at love only inspired him a profound gladness, and finally awakened in him a yearning for the comfort and fulfillment of having a family to come home to… a loving wife doting on him, and children greeting him with smiles and laughter, their little arms wrapped around his neck. Up until then, he had chosen a life without attachments, free as a bird. Family life had only seemed more daunting than anything else, with too many responsibilities than he cared for, and he hadn't wanted to end up like so many of his fellow miners who had families they needed to escape from, finding oblivion of their share of the chores, the demands of their wives and cries of their brood at the saloon.

Yet, Sully's present happiness was proof that there was a brighter side to the medal. From what he said about his life with the Cheyenne, he had obviously become even more of a loner, quieter than ever, and yet, it only took meeting the right woman – and what a woman she sounded like! – to bring him out of his shell and make him renounce once more to his freedom. Daniel mused then that if his friend had known a love strong enough to change his ways not once but twice, there was hope one day, the right woman for him would come along and make him put away his carefree, adventurous life as a treasure hunter.

September, 23rd

My Heartsong,

Just arrived in Virginia City. I've only been gone three days, but it feels like so much longer from missing you so bad. You know how I feel about trains in the first place, so without you by my side during the trip, it was a nightmare. I wish I had thought of some way you could have come along… or maybe I should have stayed with you, pure and simple. I miss you. So much.

I wish I wasn't so honorable that I couldn't simply have told Daniel I couldn't help him now, because you are far more important to me than some ten-year-old promise. Yet, breaking my word would have made me a selfish, lying coward, and that would have mean I no longer deserved you. I reckon you'd call that a Cornelian choice, right?

I miss you so much already it makes me sick. I don't care if I sound like a lovesick boy writing something that obvious. Like writing how much I love you and long for you. I'd never wished more I was your poet and write my love for you as eloquently as you deserve. But at least, I hope that when you read these few plain words on a plain piece of paper, you'll hear my voice whispering them in your ear, you'll feel my arms holding you close, and you'll see what's in my heart. You'd see yourself, the way I see you, all that you are to me, my wife, my best friend, my reason to be, and so much more than I can't put into words, for those words need yet to be invented.

I'm praying that the miles and the mountains that stand between us won't stop the song of my heart from reaching you. Nĕ mĕ hō′ tĭst, my Angel.

Give the kids my love.

S.

September, 27th

My Heartsong,

You probably haven't received my first letter yet, but at least thanks to the wires, I know you and the kids are well, and you know I'm safe. Nonetheless I bet you must be fretting about me just the same right now, because I can feel it. I can feel YOU next to me, I can picture your beautiful face, smiling at me sadly. I was so sure you and me would be able to withstand a few weeks of being apart physically, because it's US. But now, I'm not so sure anymore.

Yet, you once told me I was a part of you. I should have told you sooner that it was the same for me, but it took me being so far away to realize how true it is. And it's as much a consolation as it's tearing me apart. I can picture you so easily, and hear you, hear the song of your heart in mine, but I feel empty without the mere warmth of you being close, without being able to hold you at night. I feel so cold without your eyes recognizing me and that smile of yours when I kiss you awake in the morning. I miss, too, that sort of pout you do, and the fire in your eyes when you're angry or just being stubborn. That's how I love you too.

I told all about you and the kids to Daniel, he just couldn't believe me when I told him the way we came together as a family.

I think he finally struck pay dirt this time. If we do our job correctly, when comes the time for me to come back, the mine will be ready to be exploited, with the first couple of galleries already dug out, and Daniel having all the equipment and the workers he needs. We have recruited a crew already, and I'm presently teaching them how to use carefully the explosives. Don't worry, we made sure we didn't hire any hot-headed youngsters. Most of them already have a solid experience when it comes to properly shore up a gallery, and they all seem to be honest, hard-working fellows. As long as they get their share of the gold, Daniel shouldn't get any trouble with them.

Please, don't worry about me. Trust me, I'm not taking any risk, not when I have you to come back to.

Give Colleen, Brian and Matthew a hug from me.

And you…. I owe you a kiss for each and every single minute we are apart since I'm gone, and more.

S.

Well, the mine wasn't as uncomplicated to put up as Sully has made it sound in his letter to his wife. For starters, the rocks were rather friable in some places, and the gold veins, numerous but thin for the most part, often ran deep under layers of dirt and debris. Not only the work was physically taxing, but it required the men and their crew's full attention.

As the days went by, they also became shorter. Less daylight notwithstanding, Sully still worked with all his might, no matter the hour and weather, and Daniel often had to tell him off for not stopping long enough to get a proper lunch or staying at the site too long after nightfall. It didn't take much for Daniel to get the reason behind Sully's zeal. His friend was already so obviously pining for home. Often before bedtime would he go off by himself to write to his family, sometimes he would pray or lie awake, staring at the stars….

Colorado Springs, September 28th

My Darling

I just received your letter, and first of all believe me when I tell you that you are just as good as any poet to me. Even better, because those are YOUR words, and I cherish each and every one of them. Not only they are beautiful, but most importantly, they are true. Reading them is indeed like hearing you saying them in the flesh, feeling you next to me… inside me. I'm sure you are smiling as you are reading this, knowing that I'm all red in the face from writing such things.

I'm presently in the Clinic. I must admit I'm spending quite a large amount of time here, trying to keep my mind off missing you too muck by keeping busy. So I've begun a thorough clean-up of all the recovery rooms, the surgery and even the storage room. The children help out, of course, and besides with the weather turning colder and wetter these past few days, I have a steady stream of patients.

Yet not a day goes by that I don't cast a look toward the station, wishing I could drop everything and just board the next train to Nevada, and to your arms. But I have to be reasonable, don't I? What's four weeks, anyway?... That's what I keep repeating to myself when I feel like I can't stand your absence any longer.

I pray that you forgave me for giving you such a hard time about your going to help your friend. Still, how I feel right now is a thousand times worse than what I've dreaded. Had I known how unbearable your absence would be, then I would have done everything in my power to stop you from going. But to deprive you of your freedom and trap you in too domestic a life would be denying the man you are, the man I love….

I'm doing all I can to appease the ache within, and I repeat to myself over and over that you are thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about you, that you still love me, and that you'll be back home soon enough… I'm hanging onto the memory of what you told not long after we were married, that no matter where we go or how long we are away from each other, our spirits are one. It *is* US. Yet I feel like I belong in an antic tragedy in which my love for you completely overrules my reason and thus condemns me to suffer until your return. Only one half of my heart still functions, the other feels as if it's been torn off only leaving a phantom pain…

Please forgive me. I had promised myself not to reproach you anything or try to make you feel guilty. I'm going to stay strong, you know me. As I told you above, with the children and my patients, I have plenty to keep me busy. Truthfully, Loren's care alone is time consuming itself, but it's worth every sliver of progress each day brings. At the rate we are going, by Thanksgiving Loren should be back to his former self. A large part of the credit must go to Brian. Since day one, he's made everything he could to keep Loren's spirits up and to make him smile again. I'm so proud of our son, as I know you must be, and I told him so.

The four of us miss you so much… five of us, should I say, as even Wolf is waiting anxiously for you to come back. Please hurry back to us.

And hurry back to me, most of anything, for I love and miss you beyond any word.

M.

After supper, Daniel and Sully would usually review the progress and drawbacks of the day, discuss their plans for the next day, then bid each other good night. Then Sully could allow himself to think of his wife, reading her letters, dreaming he was back in her arms. Her scent, which was a subtle mix of the flowery and refined perfume she would occasionally wear, of her lavender soap and the delicate but oh-so-heady essence of her flesh had somewhat permeated the thick vellum on which she was professing her love, and it would chase and haunt him right into dreamland. At times he almost could feel her the way he sometimes did when they were making love and their souls touched and fused together. He knew then that she had to be thinking of him as well, the miles between them reduced to a meaningless barrier.

However, if that spiritual contact brought him a measure of comfort and rejuvenated his energy at work during the day, he nevertheless found himself suffering from her absence much more than he could ever have anticipated. All his self-control was of little help at night, once silence descended upon their camp, when the crackling fire would lull him to sleep but also make him realize how quickly he had gotten used to the new routine of the past few months. He wouldn't have minded being back to sleeping on the hard ground under the stars so much if not for the restlessness that kept disturbing the dreamy doze right before sleep, during which it would often feel like she had come to him. He could breathe in her fragrance — Oh, that scent of hers! —he could feel the sweet warmth of her velvet-soft skin imprinted into his palms, while her slender, nimble fingers were roaming all over him, knowing where, when and how to touch and caress… He had on his lips, on his tongue, the flavor of her kisses, of her skin, and he could even hear her soft pants and whimpers, speaking to him in a language only he knew. He was dreaming constantly of her beautiful hair, the long tresses raining down on him when she was leaning over to kiss him, wrapping him in a silky, shimmering cocoon… her eyes sparkling like two mysterious jewels, two extraordinary suns shining down on him with incredible love… and above all, the ineffable emotion that gripped him every time she welcomed him inside her, each time she granted him the gifts of her unconditional trust and her own desire... And then the ethereal feeling jostled him awake, and he wanted to scream out his frustration. It was a thousand times worse than all those times he had fantasized about how it would be like to make love to her before their wedding. Now he knew — and this deeply intimate knowledge he had of her had him bound to her soul as securely as the most heartfelt of promises he had ever made to her.

Virginia City, Nevada

October 5th, 1870, 9.34 a.m.

To: Dr. Michaela Quinn, Colorado Springs, Colorado.

From: Byron Sully.

Dear Michaela

Got your letter of the 28th. Will answer ASAP. I'm well but can't wait to be home. Give my love to the kids and tell Loren I say hello. Miss you all.

S.

Colorado Springs, October 6th

My Darling

Our letters crossed each other, and I would laugh at how much our thoughts mirror and complete one another if I wasn't so heartsick from missing you.

You've been away for more than two weeks, it hurts just writing this, when it should be a comfort as it means that the day you're coming home is now getting closer. I am counting those days, those hours and those minutes as I keep track of all the kisses you owe me, and that I firmly intend to receive in full.

The children miss you as well. Each day they seem to get more subdued. Even Brian isn't his usual sunny, talkative self, and I don't know how to cheer him up. But thank goodness, Loren is there for him. They are more inseparable than ever. Brian comes over every afternoon, including on Saturdays, to help with the physical therapy. On Monday, Loren has managed to stand on his own without anybody's help, and yesterday he took a few steps – with the crutches, mind you, and griping every step of the way as you can imagine.

You have no idea how much I appreciate and cherish your letters and telegrams. I read them over and over, though I know them by heart already. They are safely tucked between our favorite pages of Leaves of Grass. When all is quiet at home and I can let my thoughts wander, they all go straight to you, only you, and when I reach you in my mind, I can finally rest and let go of all my woes and worries.

Speaking of worry, I have been to Palmer Creek. Cloud Dancing is well, but he cannot rest easy either, since without you to take care that all the Indians are treated fairly, the soldiers are taking some liberties and even seem to encourage the tribes to quarrel. Cloud Dancing appears to have reached some sort of understanding, even a beginning of trust, with the elders from the other tribes, and their combined influences have prevented many an argument from escalating. Nonetheless, he is awaiting your return as impatiently as the children and I are.

Please be careful. I know you are, but I can't help but worry, as I can't help thinking of you all the time.

Your wife who loves you more than anything.

M.

October 9th

I can't stop thinking about you. During the day, I'm doing what needs to be done, best I can, keep an eye on the workers… yet, even when I'm supposed to give work my full attention, especially when the smallest distraction could have dire consequences, I'm overwhelmed with the thought and the need of you, with how bad I miss you. And at night…

Tonight, I volunteered once again to stand guard. To be honest, I haven't slept too well lately. It's not so much the hard ground or the cold, but just you not being next to me, just me not being able to touch you, feel your skin against mine, not breathing your scent. I don't even have the comfort of knowing I'll come back to you at the end of each day, or that you'll join me in a matter of minutes, or a couple of hours. I no longer have your warm presence, safely tucked against me when you sleep, which is enough to ward off the bad dreams at night. Does that tell you how bad I'm missing you? Without you to admire it with me, the Nevada landscape, which is as beautiful as Colorado, though in a wilder and drier way, is losing most of its appeal.

Not only do I need to see you, to hear you, to touch you, but I need to feel *your* touch, I need you to take me back, or as Whitman writes, to possess me. I don't even need to close my eyes to picture yours watching me, devouring me and bewitching me. I need your smile to brighten my days. I *need* you in so many ways that haven't ever been expressed in words, not even by the likes of Shakespeare, Herrick or Whitman.

But though words are missing to tell you the extent of my love for you, I know that you understand what I mean as our hearts speak the same language. It's the unique language of you and me, of US. And I know that even the greatest distance can't stop our spirits from communicating.

Still thirteen days to go. I keep telling myself, it's not much, as you do, and it brings me a bit of comfort.

I'm drawing the strength I need to fulfill my promise to Daniel in your letters, which I read over and over every night. I'm glad that mine are helping you cope as well, though it's obvious they are not enough for you either.

With a bit of luck, by the time this one reaches you, there will only be a week left before I come home. What's seven or eight days, right? Know that each one of my letters are bringing us closer to being together again.

You who have the courage of a warrior, could you please spare some and send it to me in your next letter?

I love you.

S.

Colorado Springs, October 14th

My Love,

My heart truly goes out to you so that you can take enough of it to hang on a few days longer. May my love, which is as infinite as the sky above you, reach you and watch over you until you come home and I can tell and show you how much I love you.

I almost wish that by the time this letter reaches you, you'll already be in the train home.

Please, wire me to let me know the time when you are to arrive, for I want to be at the station, waiting for you and having my schedule free from any appointment.

Meanwhile, I'll be praying for your prompt return, safe and sound, back to my arms again.

M.

Virginia City, Nevada

October, 17th, 1870. 5:08 p.m.

To: Dr. Michaela Quinn, Colorado Springs, Colorado.

From: Byron Sully

Michaela,

Mine ready. Will be home as planned. See you soon.

S