Chapter 6: Stranger

Days had passed. Michaela wasn't certain where she was, but she knew she was far enough away from Boston that word of her disappearance had probably not reached quite this far yet.

"Mama, I'm tired!" Julia exclaimed, as Liam squalled in the basket. Michaela's mind was elsewhere, however, and her nerves were on edge. "Mama! Mama? Mama, I'm tired!"

"I know you're tired, Julia, but we can't stop right now!" Michaela finally exclaimed, causing her daughter to retreat back into the carriage, whimpering from fright. Pulling the carriage over to the side of the dirt road, Michaela turned around and faced her children. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm afraid I'm tired too."

"Are we there yet?"

"No, sweetheart."

"I miss Papa," Julia admitted. Despite the monster that James had been to his wife, he did try to be his daughter's favorite parent. He hadn't succeeded, but Julia still loved her father. She did see that he was stern and sometimes very angry, but luckily, Michaela had shielded her from the worst of James.

Michaela said nothing to her daughter, and Julia curled up in the back with her brother and fell back to sleep. At sunset, Michaela veered off the path a ways and hitched Flash to a strong tree to graze. She pulled out blankets and draped them over the children, before she got out of the carriage and began scavenging for wood. The nights hadn't been this cold so far on the journey, and even though she had no idea how to build a fire without matches, she was going to have to learn if they were going to have some source of heat for the night. But, as she was gathering sticks, she realized that any light would draw attention. Surely a search party hadn't reached these lengths yet, but she knew that once again, she couldn't be too careful.

Climbing into the back of the carriage, Michaela pulled her little ones close, and she fell into a fitful sleep, looking forward to the sunrise.

At dawn, Michaela woke to the sound of thunder. She was shivering, and rain was beginning to drizzle down to earth, soaking her skirt. She gasped at the feeling of cold on her legs, and she immediately checked the children, who were nestled warmly together next to her. She breathed a sigh of relief, and she decided it was time to head on, find something to eat, and then perhaps continue on by stagecoach or train.

As she started to step down from the carriage, her foot caught in her petticoat, and she slipped down onto the soft ground. Mud splashed up her dress, and she sat stunned for a moment. Angry, she pounded her fist into the ground, taking out her frustration there, but she was surprised when, as she tried to pull herself up, she felt two strong arms grab her and help her to stand.

She cried out, realizing that James was alive and had found her.

"No!" she screamed. "No, please don't!"

"Hey! Hey!" came an unfamiliar voice. "I was just tryin' to help ya. Are you ok, Miss?" Michaela turned around to look right into the eyes of a stranger. All she noticed at first were his piercing, soul-searching blue eyes. She quickly avoided his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, but when she noticed his appearance, she drew back. His hair was long, light brown, and his skin was darker than anybody's she had seen in Boston. His appearance gave him the look of an Indian, or at least a friend of one. She'd never seen one up close before.

"Stay away from me," she whispered, stepping toward the carriage, a mother protecting her young.

"I'm not gonna hurt ya. That's why I said I was tryin' to help ya." He looked at her, his eyes full of concern. She didn't look him in the eyes though, so how could she see that? The first thing he noticed about her was that she was beautiful, but the second was the bruising. The only way those bruises could have gotten there was from a person's fist, and more than likely, they were a man's.

"Well, I don't need any help, thank you." She brushed her dirty hands on her already soiled skirt. She silently prayed that he wouldn't ask her about the bruises.

"I think you're wrong, Miss. Your wagon's stuck in the mud."

"Wagon…" Michaela glanced at the carriage and then back at the stranger. "Yes, well, I can manage."

"The rain's only gonna get worse, Miss. Can't ya at least let me help ya get back onto the road?"

"I…I couldn't spare any money to pay you for your troubles." She knew she could, but right now, she had to think about her children. She needed to save every possible penny until they reached their destination.

"I ain't askin', am I?" Michaela quickly reached into the carriage, and the stranger stepped back, uncertain of what she was doing. But, when she first lifted out a little girl and then a baby boy, he realized she was only protecting her children.

"Thank you, Mr…"

"Sully," he replied. "Just Sully. Mr. Sully is my father, and he and I ain't exactly on good terms right now." Michaela raised an eyebrow, but she stood silently back, as Julia looked curiously at the new man, and Liam yawned and rested his head on his mother's chest.

Sully worked for a few minutes, pushing and pulling at the carriage to get it out of the mud. Michaela felt awkward just standing there, but she didn't want to get too close. The only other man besides her father that she'd let herself get close to had ended up hurting her in the worst way she'd ever known. She would only think about her children, and what was best for them. Right now, this man's help was best, and she couldn't very well deny that.

"Where ya from?" he asked, as soon as he dislodged the wheel from the sticky mud. Michaela thought quickly.

"New York," she lied. "I'm taking my children to visit relatives in California." Sully took a swig of water from a container that was covered in some kind of tanned skin. She swallowed hard, as he screwed the cap back on the canteen.

"I've heard some tall tales in my life, but that one…"

"You think I'm lying?"

"Course ya are," he replied. He looked her up and down, making her feel very uncomfortable, but at the same time, she didn't feel that he was a threat. Then again, she had never been the best judge of character when it came to men. "The way you and them kids are dressed, I'd say ya ain't hurtin' for money, and if you're from New York, like ya say ya are, any rich folks take the train out West. They don't go in a carriage, 'specially without help."

"How do you know so much about New York?"

"It's where I'm from. Just came from there, actually. I was visitin' my folks."

"I thought you said you're not on good terms with your father."

"I'm not," he replied. "Don't mean I can't go visit. My pa's disappointed in me, is all. My ma, she don't care what I do. She always told me that I could do whatever I wanted, and she'd be proud of me."

"That sounds like my father," Michaela said with a fond smile of remembrance.

"My pa, though, he wanted me to stay close to home, help take care of his business. He wanted to keep an eye on me."

"Sounds like my mother," she replied with a sigh. Sully gave a half smile, wiped his hands off, and he cleared his throat.

"So where ya really headin'?"

Defensively, Michaela stuttered, "California, like I told you." She loaded the children back up into the carriage.

"Well, ya sure seem to be in a hurry to get there. Why don't ya let me take ya back into Hartford, and I'll put ya up on a train?" The thought of running into anymore of James' business partner's rattled Michaela's nerves. Worse than that, she could run into James, if he was even still alive. She knew that not knowing if he had lived or died would stay with her for the rest of her life, but it was a small price to pay to protect her children. Besides, why should she trust this man? She knew close to nothing about him. She was a woman, alone with two children on the back roads of Connecticut. She had expected she might run into strangers, but what if those strangers wanted more from her than just a nice conversation? No, she couldn't risk it.

"No thank you," she replied. He heard the apprehension in her voice. She was running from something, and obviously, she never wanted it to find her. She never wanted to go back. He could see in her eyes that she was terrified, but he could also see that she was a good person. Whatever she was running from, she had good reason. Judging by her appearance, she was getting as far away as possible from a man, probably the man that gave her those two beautiful children.

"Well, you're headin' West, and so am I, so why don't I join ya for awhile…ya know, in case ya get stuck again?"

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Seriously, Miss, I'm goin' to Colorado Springs. I live out there…I'm a mediator between the Cheyenne and the United States Army." Michaela heard truth in his voice, but again, she didn't see it in his eyes, because that was last place she was looking. Instead, her gaze was settled just past his head, focused on a nearby tree.

"Is that what you do, Mr. Sully?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Well, I do a little bit of everything. I build houses, I hunt, I help folks work their farms in the dry seasons."

"Sounds…very adventurous," Michaela pondered.

"I s'pose. Mostly, I stay at the reservation." Michaela nodded slowly. "What does your husband do?" Sully asked, as he grabbed Flash's reins and began to hitch her to the carriage.

"My husband…" She looked at her children in the carriage before lowing her voice. "I'm not…I mean, my husband…he's…" Sully slowly nodded in understanding. He studied her. Some of what she was saying was truth, he knew, but some of it wasn't. Was her husband still alive and she thought of him as dead to her, or was he really dead, and the bruises were from someone else? She was a mystery, and he was intrigued, while feeling sorry for her all the while. She didn't have any business being out there with those children. She needed a place to stay, hot food, and a friend.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Sorry to bring it up." Michaela only turned to walk past him. She climbed up into the carriage, and she nearly cried out when he put his hands on her waist to help give her a boost. He could feel her shrink away at his touch, and he wondered if she was really that afraid of him, or if this jumpiness was the result of something else. He figured it was the latter, but then again, he knew women like her were probably not accustomed to seeing men like him, especially dressed the way he was.

"I need to be going," Michaela said quickly. "Thank you for your help again, Mr. Sully."

"It's just Sully," he said to himself, as she pulled away. So, he made his way back up to the road, mounted his horse, and shot off in the same direction, passing the carriage and resisting the urge to stop and once again offer his help. She obviously wanted nothing to do with him, so he figured that he'd better keep his distance. But, he knew that he wouldn't be too far ahead. He had already promised himself that he would help her, whether she knew it or not.