Colorado Springs was unusually hot that day. At least it was to Dorothy. Nobody else seemed to mind it though; not even a single soul on the streets were even bothering to fan themselves off.

Sighing, Dorothy took a seat outside of Michaela's clinic. She had been doing errands all day, perhaps all she needed was a rest. She unbuttoned the top buttons of her collar and leaned back. All she wanted to do was close her eyes for a second.

"Thank you, Doctor Quinn."

Dorothy snapped her eyes open at the sound of a voice. She looked towards the door of the clinic and saw the pregnant Theresa Slicker stepping outside with Michaela.

"Just remember to rest as often as you can after school has been let out. Everything is just fine though. I'll see you in three weeks; it should be your last appointment before the baby comes." Michaela explained.

Theresa nodded, smiled, and walked out onto the streets and towards the barber shop. Dorothy stood and walked over to Michaela.

"She seems to be getting along fine." Dorothy said.

"She is. She's anxious though. Can't say as I blame her. I had Colleen, Matthew, and Brian of course but carrying your own child for nine months. Just knowing that it's something that you and your husband had made from love...It's different. A different love. You wonder all the time if you're doing everything right."

Dorothy chuckled. "When my first son came along, I couldn't sleep the whole nine months. What I wouldn't give though to have more."

"With Cloud Dancing, you mean?"

"Since the town has come to accept him and since Jake and Theresa aren't afraid to take the step. We see no reason why we shouldn't at least start to try."

"Dorothy, that's wonderful." Michaela hugged Dorothy. "When was this decided?"

"Almost a month ago. We weren't so certain that we wanted to try at first and so I kept quiet. Besides, I'm no spring chicken."

Michaela finally noticed the sweat coming down Dorothy's forehead. "Dorothy, are you all right?"

Dorothy wiped the sweat off with the back of her hand and groaned. "I must look terrible, Michaela. Oh, if only today weren't so hot."

Michaela shrugged. "It seems fine to me. Maybe, you're becoming feverish."

"Well, I feel fine. Just a little hot and tired."

"Why don't you come inside and let me have a look?"

Dorothy peered inside the clinic. "I guess there's no harm in it."

Michaela invited Dorothy into the clinic and started a routine physical. She listened to her heart, took her temperature, felt her neck, and palpated her stomach.

"Well, everything seems fine. Your heart is a little fast though."

"That comes with owning a newspaper."

Michaela chuckled and helped Dorothy sit back up and Dorothy gasped in pain.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." Michaela apologized.

"Oh, it's not your fault, Michaela. My arms and hands are just so sore."

Michaela started to examine Dorothy's hands. "How long has this been happening?"

"Off and on for a few weeks. It didn't bother me so much at first. My mother became arthritic at a very early age; I just figured it was my time to."

Michaela saw a wary look in Dorothy's eyes and knew that she was holding something back.

"Dorothy, as your physician, you know you have to tell me everything. Remember, it won't go beyond these walls."

Dorothy sighed. "Oh Michaela, I've been feeling so poorly. There are days when my back hurts so terrible that I can't stand, or just yesterday I became dizzy. Then, there's other things."

"What other things?"

Dorothy blushed. "I've had accidents. A month ago I wet the bed. I've not done that since I was a little girl. Also, as badly as me and Cloud Dancing want to start a family. I've just been...well...not very interested. Cloud Dancing desperately wants to know why, but all I do is yell at him. I don't mean to, really."

Michaela didn't like where Dorothy's symptoms were heading. Sore and stiff limbs, urinary urgency, dizziness, irritability, lack of sexual interest. There was one thing Michaela had to know, but she dreaded asking.

"Dorothy, have you had your monthly?" Michaela finally asked.

"Well, no. Not for a year. I've just been so stressed. With the paper, helping Cloud Dancing on his homestead, making sure that Loren isn't having trouble with the store."

"You're right that stress can stop your cycle. There are other reasons, however."

"What other reasons?" Dorothy asked.

Michaela took Dorothy's hand. "Dorothy, you're forty-five. As early as this seems, sometimes...well sometimes, the change can occur as early as forty."

"The change? Michaela, you can't mean-"

"It's official term is climacteric. Of course, it's now better known as..." Michaela's voice trailed off.

"Menopause." Dorothy said and Michaela nodded.

Dorothy's eyes welled with tears and she placed a hand over her chest. "When I had the mastectomy, I thought I couldn't feel any less like a woman. Now, it seems like I'm nothing."

Michaela laid a hand on Dorothy's shoulder. "That isn't true. You're still a woman and, more importantly, you're still Dorothy."

"One of the greatest gifts given to a woman, Michaela, is our ability to carry a child. How you would feel if that gift were taken?"

Before Michaela could answer, Dorothy had slid off the examining table and calmly left the clinic.