Assumptions

by Maritza Franklin

Chapter 2

Having been pleasantly stunned that Dr. Quinn wasn't a he, but a very becoming she, Sully gladly took her lovely soft hand into his for a simple handshake—he could have sworn a spark cursed through him in that instant.

"Really—you're Dr. Quinn?" feeling foolish with a hint of awkward smile, and still holding the doctor's hand. "I thought you'd be a…," he stopped short, not wanting to offend her.

"A male?" amused by his dumfounded expression. "So did my father and apparently everyone else in town the way I'm stared or maybe I should say, frowned upon." In changing the topic she asked, "Headache?"

"A little—ugh!" He grimaced from shifting up in bed grabbing his side, "I'm fine."

"Don't move, I'll give you something for the pain," then proceeded to examine his eyes—her face hovering so close to his. She was unaware that her patient indulged taking a whiff of her delighted scent as though she bathed in lavender, instantly soothing him better than any pain medication.

"I never thought I'd see the day I'd be fussed over by a more appealing doctor." Then realizing she might be married, "Uh…I'm sorry… I ain't meant no disrespect to your husband." He looked around to see if there was one, and hated himself for acting like a school boy who'd never seen a beautiful woman.

"I'm not married," now rechecking his hand wound—silently flattered by his comment.

Sully just couldn't believe that this gorgeous woman was a doctor and a courageous one at that living on her own so far away from town. "You're not?" further astounded by her unmarried status after having assumed she was.

"I'm sorry for not meeting your standard marrying before moving out here, but I was once engaged if that will help," she looked at him in amusement which rattled his being.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you had to be. I just didn't expect to ever meet a female doctor out west and to be living alone so far from town."

"You're forgiven and there's no need to assume I'm incapable of doing for myself. It was the only place available at the moment—the boarding house being filled to capacity," she took his pulse; oblivious to his delight having her hand wrapped around his wrist. "I answered an advertisement for this town needing a doctor, and was placed in contact with the Reverend Johnson, but he was only able to offer your place as a temporary means. I don't think he knew how bad it was when I signed the lease. I should have asked questions. Nor did he realize I wasn't a male."

"How could he not realize you're a woman?" He asked incredulously.

"We corresponded at first—he must have not noticed the "a" at the end of my name. Our first meeting really shocked him and he tried to convince me I'd be happier in a more establish town or city."

"May I ask what happened to your fiancé?" his mind now wondering about her broken engagement.

"He enlisted in the army a few years back prior to proposing and thought it best to tell me after we were officially engaged. He left that same day never to return again." A faraway look accompanied her words.

"You mean…" he stop short not wanting to say the obvious fearing it may trigger some painful memory.

"Yes, he was killed in the war," after staring aimlessly aloofly momentarily, she profusely mixed quinine in a glass of water—a trace of grief running across her face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," an uncomfortable silence followed before he continued. "I lost my wife and little girl in childbirth a couple of years back."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she gently let out. "Charlotte mentioned it. That couldn't have been easy."

"No it wasn't," glancing away from feeling the pain of that faithful day. Sully felt strange for admitting this to a stranger; yet somewhat relieved telling her this bit of personal information after keeping it to himself for so long. Suddenly the need to change the subject overwhelmed him, and he allowed himself to be mesmerized by her beauty. "Oh, well um…I'm sorry you found the place in such a mess and for having a hard time. Someone was supposed to come out earlier in the week to fix the place. I didn't know you were coming this soon."

"Don't apologize—I came a few days early," she noted how swiftly he changed the subject, obviously still mourning his wife. "It was my fault with being too eager to start my new life and practice. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you like that."

"I don't blame you about the place. I haven't seen it since I abandoned it a few years back. I didn't know it was this bad." They fell silent staring awkwardly away from each other. "But despite the obvious disrepairs, what you did with your decorations and stuff looks like a whole other homestead—real nice."

"Thank you. And um…I'm sorry to have listened to town gossip about you."

"Oh," he fidgeted with his bandaged hand, "the arrogant and proud Indian Agent."

"Among other things," she nodded letting out a light chuckle, he followed suit.

"I am sorry. Here, take this."

"What is it?"

"Quinine for the pain,"

"I don't need it, just need to sleep it off."

"I know very well you are in great pain. Now drink it, doctor's order." He drank it down sensing the stubborn woman wouldn't let him off the hook that easily.

"I don't care what other folks think of me. I just want the Indians to be treated fairly." He sighed deeply in discontentment, causing him to grimace from the side pain. "I'm just disappointed and frustrated at all them folks pretending to care for the Indians when all they really want to do is exterminate them." He hadn't the faintest idea why he was telling her all this, but he couldn't help himself. "All them recent balls and social events was my attempt at getting in their good graces since becoming Indian Agent and see if I can change some of their minds. I managed to change a couple," he fell silent for a moment, discouragement evident on his face. "But most just ain't budging, like this Colonel Chivington fellow."

"You sound quite the remarkable person," feeling admiration and compassion for the man.

"I ain't so remarkable," his face now taking on a relax countenance. "But you must be for coming out into the back woods on your own and taking on the town being a female doctor. Sorry if I sound discouraging, but not too many men folks out here will take kindly to a lady doctor, not that I mind. You can count on my support." And a supportive grin accompanied his words.

"Thank you," his smile caused her belly to churn like never before and she had to catch her breath to settle it. "I hadn't realized it would be this difficult. I was sort of counting on the town being so desperate for a doctor that they would accept just about anybody, including a female doctor and eventually I'd proved myself."

"Give them some time, they'll come around, "he offered her a genuine smile, unaware the effect it had in her belly now doing summersaults. "Would you be willing to practice medicine on the Cheyenne?"

"Yes, of course, they're God's creation as well." Sully furthered smiled gratefully, but something inside him told him he ought to be proud of this daring and bold lady.

They continued on talking for a short spell getting to know one another a little; she mostly assessed his injuries, insisting that he stay to recuperate, and asked him a few questions about the town and the Indians. He asked why a doctor and why out west?—of which she expressed with such joy wanting to save all lives and the freedom in which to do it.

"There is this social later in the week, for a group of investors coming to possibly invest in this town," Sully paused. "One of them is some pompous guy from out east and another is sort of like me, siding with the Indians—who happen to be a long time childhood friend of mine."

"Yes?" only hearing the first part—a social, and despite turning admirers away most of her life, something told her he was worth saying yes to; if this is what he was going to ask of her—to take her to the dance. Then perhaps he was done mourning if his wife. Was this pleasing her? Why was he making her so nervous? He's probably just going to ask her if he would be well enough to go the dance and likely already has someone in mind—just not her.

"You don't have to… if you don't wanna. I really hate wearing the monkey suit and I don't dance much…, but just for ya…I'm willing to wear it again, if…if you'd do me the honor of accompanying me…and…maybe I can put up being there a little while longer so I can have my say."

Taken aback that he really asked her, and flattered by his endearing hesitation, she couldn't help, but to coyly smile in acceptance, "I will be honored," and she watched in amazement how really pronounced that smile of his got, making her want to melt. "We don't have to dance, and you can wear whatever you like—unless, if you like, I can show you a simple dance just for appearance purposes."

"Uh…sure, why not?" Another pause, "Oh, of course, I won't blame you if you change your mind… but…just so you don't get the wrong idea about me, I normally dress partly like an Indian, and I gotta tell ya…, I ain't got much book learning or a cent to my name." There he threw it out there; instead, he witnessed her eyes brightening up with curiosity rather then disdain he was certain to see, assuring him she didn't mind and it pleased him all the more. Why was he telling her all this? He hadn't the faintest idea. He felt his heart raced waiting for her to change her mind.

Michaela was enthralled by his earnest sincerity, unlike most men back in Boston who boasted of their accomplishments or made up what they lacked; making her ashamed of her earlier assumption about him. Something about him reminded her of her late father and it warmed her heart making her feel nostalgia.

"You really are amazing, aren't you? Having to put up wearing a stuffy suit and suffered in silence painfully among the likes of snobs to have your say." She apparently astounded him by her comment meant to amuse him. "Father was the same way about wearing suits and dreaded balls as well. He used to love being in his study for hours or walk the garden dressed as he pleased, no shoes—no ties. It used to infuriate mother." She smiled pensively before continuing, "I can identify with him with how liberating it is living out here not having to wear all the extra attire, or rather nonsense." And the two laughed easing further their reserve; agreeing they will go together to the dance if he was better. Then she ordered him to sleep and he reluctantly complied.

A while later in pretend sleep, he marveled at this entrancing woman moving about, pulling out several glamorous gowns and admiring herself in the mirror holding a red one against her with such delight, swaying and curtsying to an imaginary partner; but at the end she appeared to satisfactorily settle on wearing a simple, yet lovely light blue dress. Was she some fancy rich lady as well? But why live out here on her own like this, in dangerous territory and not in some fancy city to do her doctoring? What was he getting himself into? But something about her took a hold of him, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Nor did he know what to do about it still holding the memory of his wife dear to him—but she wasn't here.

As Dr. Quinn or Dr. Mike, as she preferred, settled to sleep on a rocking chair by the fireplace with a bold yellow patterned quilt, Sully suddenly took a good look at the place. Nothing looked the same as when he and his wife lived here. The furnishings were rearranged, trinkets and other stuff adorned the place; especially books, fresh flowers and color making it uniquely her own. He could barely tell the place was in poor shape with how beautifully she decorated it, so different from his wife who never took to enjoying their home he so lovingly built—it was actually cozy. For the first time, the homestead didn't disturb him so much having lost his wife and child in this very place. It was all surreal. He glanced back at the now serenely sleeping doctor, or rather woman, feeling bad for taking her bed and vowed to fix the place as soon as he could.

Thank you for for the enthusiastic reviews on the first chapter, here,on the DQ Forum, PM's and emails.