Lost, but Not Forgotten

By

Maritza Franklin

September 19, 2009

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman

"Please don't go!"

"I"ve got to. Lives depend on it."

"What about your family, don't we count? What if something happens to you?"

"That's a chance I have to take." Caressing her face tenderly, while fear laced his heart, "Side's, you know I always come back."

"You know I don't beg, but…pleassssse…don't go..." she cried out in a final desperation.

"I'm sorry," he kissed and hugged her fiercely before letting her go, then mounted his horse and rode off into the night for who knows how long and if he will ever return.

The somewhat now cleared image played over and over again. It was always the same, he wearing a buckskin jacket and pants along with beads as though partly an Indian and a beautiful woman with long coppery hair grabbing hold of him in tears, begging him not to leave. He couldn't understand why he would leave such a stunning woman. His heart was telling him she was very important to him, but tried as he might, his mind just couldn't recall her or who he was for that matter.

The headaches continued on pounding ferociously. His heart ached as well. Under the bedcovers, he thrashed and squirmed naked, somewhere strange, so far away, yet latching onto that image of that woman, whose heart he must have broken for some reason, and he couldn't phantom why. Cool hands touched his face; he suddenly opened his eyes and reached out with a hand into the air.

"Michaela!"

"Shhh…..There, there…you are safe and sound dear."

Confused, he struggled focusing his eyes, finally landing at some woman. "You're not her."

"I'm not who, your wife? Of course, I am dear. You had a bad fall causing you to loose your memory." She pulled his hand to the gash on his forehead. "There, the doctor warned me you might have some memory loss, but with me by your side, you will soon get better."

"But…but… your hair ain't long and coppery…and your eyes…they're not mismatch," then he looked around anxiously, pulling up the sheet over his body. "This ain't home. Who are you?"

"I just told you, my darling, your loving wife?"

"You are?" He looked confused, distressed evident as he sat back trying to recollect. "Where am I?"

"Safe, with me—Papa found you injured out in the woods and brought you to me, where you belong, with your wife to care for you." She placed her hand over his chest, and then moved in to lay by his side. He felt repulsed and tried to move away, but his headache overwhelmed him and he had to shut his eyes, from the assault. The feel of this woman by his side felt all wrong, making him feel violated and he further cover his nude body. Finally, he successfully moved away from her.

"I'm sorry, I need some more rest. Do yo mind?"

"Of course not darling, I'll just join you."

"Alone please, if you don't mind."

"Alright, Joe, I'll leave you alone for now." Then she attempted to kiss his lips, but he squirmed away in disgust. "Oh, darling, your lips hurt too? Don't worry; soon you will be able to enjoy them again." She attempted to give him another sedative, mainly to keep him drugged up for now.

"What's that for?"

"To help you relax."

"No! he latched out. I don't need it." He relaxed, "Joe, is that really my name?" Somehow, he knew it wasn't truly his name.

"Yes, of course, Joe Sully and I'm Mrs. Catherine Sully. You are my husband." She let out a few tears for good measure, then, bated her eyes disturbing him all the more, making him nauseous. He couldn't help it, but something told him to fear this woman in connection with the lovely woman he kept envisioning.

"Then who is Michaela?"

"Oh, her again, you really need to forget that woman. You hurt my feelings bringing her up. I forgive you for your indiscretion with her, but we're back together now."

"But who is she? Why did I leave her?"

"I cannot believe you are actually recalling her and not me. How can you forget me, the woman you love? Joe, I forgave you already, but I will tell you since you are ill. She was some crazy woman who did whatever she pleased upsetting everyone and just not mining her own business. She took you away from me with lies. She tried to marry a reverend after trying to seduce all the men in her town. Later, she also tried to marry some fancy doctor while being engaged to another and courting you, but luckily, they saw through her deceit, even you. They all rejected her. It was terrible. She wanted you to be her children's father but they weren't even hers, and she still wanted to adopt more children. I'm glad Papa finally found you. You and I are the same. We belong together."

He closed his eyes in the hope of encouraging her to leave him alone. All of this just sounded too far fetched.

"Alright darling, I'll leave you to rest." After she left, he immediately went back to thinking about the woman of his dreams, and each time he did, he realized his heart soared. He didn't care that his head ached badly from thinking too hard, he had to find out who Michaela was to him. He was certain she was very important in his life. He tried standing up only to discover his ankle was sprained than fell back exhaustedly. After a while, he fell back into a fitful sleep.

It had been days since Sully had gone off to help the Cheyenne's with yet another conflict caused by the soldiers, when Michaela awoke anxiously calling out Sully's name. He was in some kind of trouble and she needed to get to him. She got up, dressed hurriedly and dropped the children off with Grace, then proceeded to let her heart guide her to her love.

He suddenly awoke with the woman of his dreams calling out to him with "Sully." Yes, that was his name, it felt right. His head still pounded, his chest raced and his body perspired, but he was certain now, who Michaela was to him, she was his heart song. Though he couldn't remember everything just yet, including who he was, he knew he needed to get back to her now that he had a name to go by. He was more or less recovered—now to find some clothing. With great difficulties, he forced himself up despite the sprained ankle, headache and soar body. He searched in vain for clothing in the cupboard—emptied. Draping his lower half of his body with the blanket, he went to open the door and found it lucked. He was trapped, now he knew for certain this wasn't right, that he didn't belong here. Hopping over to the window, he saw that he was at least three stories high. How would he be able to escape without further injuring himself? How long had he been here ill? Was anyone looking for him? It tormented him that he didn't fully know who he was, but he was certain that Michaela was sick with worry. Was she his wife? He hoped so. If not, the minute he got back to her, he was going to ask for her hand that very day.

Michaela reached the town of Manitou. This was where her heart led her. Cloud Dancing, Robert E. and Matthew, accompanied her.

"You really think he's in this town Dr. Mike?" inquired Matthew.

"Yes, I know so. My heart tells me so."

"The spirits has spoken to me too. He is here, but in trouble I'm afraid," Cloud Dancing followed worriedly.

They set about in search for Sully, inquiring the folks in town.

Were his eyes deceiving him? There down the street appeared to be the woman of his dreams, accompanied by a young man, a colored man and a tall Indian riding into town. He frantically tried to open the window but it was nailed shut, so he began to bang it calling out Michaela's name. He then looked around for anything to break the glass, not even a chair, thus he did the only thing he could, break the glass with his bare hand.

"Michaela!" he shouted with all his being before darkness engulfed him.

Michaela turned to the direction of a house up the street. She could have sworn she heard Sully calling out to her in the bustle of street noises and broken glass.

"That's Sully!" Michaela informed alarmingly, yet relived at the same time.

"You heard alright. That was Sully's voice, it came from that house," Robert E. pointed to the broken window above it.

"Something tells me we may need more than our bare hands," Cloud Dancing volunteered."

Getting off their horse, all three ran towards the house.

"Someone, get the sheriff!" cried Matthew out into the crowd, with Robert E. about to kick in the front door after banging on it a few tries, while Cloud Dancing held a frantic Michaela back.

Sorry, to be continued...

Thanks for reading, feedbacks are welcomed.