Chapter 7
By morning time, Sully was helping Robert E. at the livery, and Michaela was taking care of her patient at the clinic. Sully had wanted to stay close by for Michaela, but she had insisted that he go work. He had asked if she would be alright, and she had told him she would be, though of course, he wasn't fully convinced.
Loren and Margaret had slept in the clinic the night before, and in the early morning hours, they were still sleeping. Michaela took the opportunity to check on her patient's condition, knowing that there might be things she wouldn't want her family to know about the ordeal.
Abagail was lying awake, staring at the ceiling. Michaela remembered doing the same thing herself. Sleeping had been too difficult. Sometimes it still was.
"Abagail?" Michaela asked quietly, stepping into the room. "I've come to check on you." She moved across the room silently, gently sitting down on the side of the bed. She took Abagail's pale hand in hers and pressed her fingers against the young woman's pulse. "You feel cool. I'll get you another blanket." Michaela hoped to get a response out of the young woman. Abagail only blinked and her eyes clouded over.
After examining Abagail thoroughly, Michaela pulled an extra blanket out of one of the drawers and draped it over the young woman's still body.
"I'm going to get you some soup from Grace's. You father and sister are in the next room if you need anything while I'm gone." Michaela saw no change in the stony features of Abagail's face. Michaela started to leave, but before she did, she turned back once. "Your daughter is with Grace right now. She was kind enough to take her in last night." She lingered in the doorway, and when she was only answered by a chilly draft whistling through the tiny cracks in the wall, she turned and retreated downstairs. Once there, she was greeted by a surprising sight.
A bouquet of freshly picked wild flowers were lying on her desk. Beneath the bouquet was a slip of paper with writing scrawled across it. With a smile playing across her face for the first time in over a day, Michaela immediately put the flowers in a vase and went back to read the note left with it.
"Alright, Mr. Sully," she whispered to herself, bringing it into her hands and peering down at the words.
Holding you in my arms would make me happier than any man. I see you cry and only want to kiss your tears away. Just remember, I'll always be close beside you, close enough to reach out and caress the silky strands of your beautiful hair.
Love,
Me
Michaela felt a shiver run up her spine at those words. She cleared her throat and tucked the slip of paper in her desk drawer with the previous one. She paused for a moment, thinking about the words, realizing why he'd probably written them. He wanted her to know that he'd always be there if she needed him. She believed that, and it was something she certainly needed reminding of on this morning. After very little sleep, it was a ray of hope parting the dark clouds intruding into her thoughts.
She pulled on her shawl and headed out of the clinic and toward the café. The moment she saw Grace, she knew the poor woman hadn't slept much. Myra Bing, the wife of the telegraph operator, Horace, sat at one of the tables with little Hanna in her arms.
"Oh, Dr. Mike," Grace said with a yawn. "How's Abagail doin'?"
"She's no worse, physically," Michaela commented. "She's not speaking, but I told her Hanna was staying with you."
"I don't know if I can do it tonight, Dr. Mike. Hanna was up all night. Plus with the chicken pox, she's…"
"I'll take her," Myra said with a nod. "Me and Horace've been wantin' a baby of our own. I'm sure he wouldn't mind us takin' her in…it'll give us a little practice, won't it, sweetheart?" Hanna whimpered in her sleep. "Precious little thing. Don't worry, Grace."
"I'd appreciate it, Myra. I can tell ya one thing, Dr. Mike. Robert E.'s gonna be awful glad to have Sully helpin' at the livery today. He's so tired he might just close up early today and catch up on his sleep. I knew babies were hard work, but Hanna's a handful!" Michaela was silent, and she stared off for a moment. "Dr. Mike?" Michaela didn't answer. She just thought about how Abagail was going to handle taking care of her daughter and taking care of herself after this mess. "Dr. Mike?"
"Hmm?" she asked, snapping out of it.
"Can I get somethin' for ya?"
"Umm, just soup for Abagail, please," Michaela said with a nod.
"Anything for yourself?"
"No thanks," Michaela replied. "I don't have much of an appetite today."
"You look awfully pale. Guess none of us got much sleep last night. I can't imagine what it must've been for poor Abby last night. Nobody ought to ever be put through somethin' like that. I don't care who ya are, nobody deserves it."
"No, they don't. You're right about that," Michaela said shortly. "Could you bring that by, please? I need to get back to her." Grace eyed her uncertainly.
"Of course, Dr. Mike. I'll bring it right on by." Michaela nodded to both Grace and Myra and then headed back to the clinic, wanting to escape before being pulled into the conversation herself.
Robert E., exhausted as he was, couldn't help but notice Sully's preoccupation with the clinic that afternoon. Every few minutes, Sully would gaze over in that direction.
"Sully?" Robert E. asked. "There somethin' you wanna talk about?"
"Huh?" Sully asked, helping Robert E. put the finishing touches on a saddle.
"Ya keep lookin' over at the clinic. You worried about somethin'?"
"I…I don't know," Sully said awkwardly.
"'Cause the man that did it…he's dead. Ya saw him yourself."
"Yeah," Sully said quietly, thinking about how he wished he could say the same for the man who had hurt Michaela.
"You wanna take a break?"
"No. No, it's alright," Sully said quietly.
"C'mon. Let's go get some lunch at Grace's."
"We got so much to do here, Robert E."
"Neither one of us is feelin' their best today, it looks like, so let's go get some food, and maybe then we'll feel like workin'." Sully eyed the man for a moment before finally agreeing. His stomach was starting to ache, but he wasn't certain if it was hunger or worry for his wife as she went about tending to a woman who was going through something she had been going through two months earlier and was still dealing with to this day.
"So she's doin' better today?" Charlotte asked, as Michaela helped her snap beans into a large pot.
"Physically, yes. She won't speak though. I can't blame her. I'm certain that with the proper encouragement and patience, she'll come around."
"I can't imagine what that poor girl's goin' through," Charlotte said, shaking her head. Michaela hesitated for a moment before continuing with her task. "I bet you've seen all kinds of things, bein' a doctor and everything."
"Yes," Michaela said quietly, "but it doesn't get any easier. Seeing Abagail so upset breaks my heart."
"It's somethin' no woman should go through, but usually 'round here it gets overlooked. 'Course, when it's the daughter of one of the town's biggest moneymakers, it's a different story." Michaela felt her throat close up a little. "It happened to Mary Ellis, Mrs. Ellis' girl about ten years back. It was her husband that did it. Most folks said she did somethin' to deserve it. They locked him up but he got out, only to beat her. Left with her three babies, and she never heard from 'em again." Michaela placed her hand over her heart.
"That's awful," she whispered. "What became of Mary?" Charlotte shook her head.
"Her mama found her in the barn hangin' from the loft."
"Oh my God," Michaela breathed.
"Most folks said it was her own fault her husband ran off. Now you tell me, Dr. Mike, how it makes any sense for it to be a woman's fault her husband hurt her like that and ran off with the kids?"
"It makes no sense, Charlotte," Michaela replied, her fingers trembling as she snapped the beans more vigorously.
"The way things work out here…the man's in charge, and if the women don't obey, a man's got a reason to hit his wife. Only way he can really get in trouble is if she dies from it," Charlotte said. "Ethan raised a hand to me once, and I hit him upside the head so hard I had to stitch him up myself. I told him, 'you ever try to hit me again…'" She shook her head at the memory. "I coulda got in trouble for it, but Ethan had the good sense to realize that he was wrong."
Michaela found herself staring off, thinking about how wonderful she'd had it since everything had happened. Her parents had been wonderfully supportive in their own ways, until Sully's proposal came into the picture. Now she wasn't even on speaking terms with her mother. But still, she was lucky. She was lucky, because she still had a wonderfully supportive husband whom she knew would never hurt her. She felt comforted and secure in knowing that.
"You're lucky, Dr. Mike. You're lucky you got yourself a good man. You don't ever gonna be afraid of anything like that happenin' to you." Michaela knew Charlotte was right, but the truth was, it could happen to anyone, whether they were married or not. Whether they were younger or older, richer or poorer. She knew firsthand what it was like, and now Abagail did too. They both had something in common, though Michaela knew this wasn't something she could confide in just anyone about. It was her personal tragedy, something she knew she could talk to with her husband and her father, yet still, it was difficult.
"Charlotte, I'm going to go get some air."
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Yes," Michaela nodded. "I'm feeling alright. I'd just like to check on Abagail." Michaela headed out, pulling her shawl over her shoulders. She needed to find Sully. She needed to talk to him, just so she could have someone to listen to. He was a brilliant listener, always taking her hand in his, letting her feel the warmth of human kindness just when she needed it.
Sully was standing on the porch of the mercantile with Mr. Bray. Michaela waved over at them, and she stepped up.
"Sully. Mr. Bray."
"Dr. Mike, how's my Abby? I'd have stayed, but I had to open up shop. I think Maggie's with her now."
"She's alright," Michaela said with a nod. "She's still not responding vocally, but I think she understands what's going on. I think she just needs to deal with this in her own way." Michaela and Sully shared a secret look between them, as Loren fidgeted in his pockets.
"What can we do for her? What if she don't respond?"
"We'll try as hard as we can. Myself, you, and Maggie. I think perhaps bringing Hanna in to see her soon might lift her spirits."
"Ya think so?" Loren wondered. His eyes were red from having cried most of the night and that afternoon. Tears threatened to spill over again, and once again, Michaela was reminded of her own father after her own rape. "What if it doesn't work?"
"There are things we can do, Mr. Bray."
"Like what?"
"Well, she'll have to be cared for. She's welcome to stay at the clinic as long as she needs, but I understand that it might be easier for everyone if she were to stay with family. She could be cared for right here in Colorado Springs, or you might prefer sending her…"
"Not sendin' her anywhere," Loren protested immediately. "I can take care of my girl. She needs to be here. It's where her baby girl is. Hanna don't have a pa no more. But she has her ma, and she can't lose her." Michaela nodded.
"I'm praying that Abagail will come around soon," she lied. She couldn't exactly tell the man that it was possible that Abagail was withdrawing inside of herself more by the day.
"She's my baby, Dr. Mike."
"And I'm doing everything I can to help her. I know what you're going through…"
"How could ya possibly know what I'm goin' through?" Loren asked gravely. Michaela bit her tongue and only glanced at Sully. He reached over, tenderly squeezing her hand to let her know it was alright. She nodded thankfully at him, the silent stare between them speaking more than words could say.
"I'm sorry, Loren. I didn't mean to sound insensitive." She put her hand on the older man's shoulder. "I'll get her some more soup from Grace's. She seemed to like it earlier."
"Grace's food's her favorite," Loren said with a soft smile. "Her Ma was a good cook, but Abby never had the heart to tell her that she liked Grace's cookin' better." Loren turned and walked back into the store, a broken shell of the man he used to be. Michaela hoped that if Abagail began to show signs of improvement, he too would begin to feel better.
"You ok?" Sully asked once they were alone.
"I could use a talk," Michaela said quietly.
"Well, I'm here," he assured her, drawing her in for a hug and rubbing her back. "I'm always here."
"Thank you. I'll find you after I check on Abagail."
"I'll be waitin'," he replied, kissing her cheek. Sully watched his wife walk off and he headed over to the boarding house to see if there was anything he could do to help Charlotte with dinner.
"How is he?" Elizabeth asked frightfully as she paced the hall of the Raleigh hospital. The doctor had just left Josef's room, closing the door softly behind him.
"Mrs. Quinn, your husband's suffered a mild heart attack. I'd guess it's from all the traveling he's been doing. And you mentioned he's been under some emotional stress lately?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said quietly, noticing how much of an understatement that truly was. "Will…will he be alright?"
"We're keeping him comfortable. As long as he gets plenty of rest and follows our orders, he should be well in a few weeks."
"When can he leave the hospital?"
"Providing all goes well, three or four days," the doctor estimated. "Is there anyone you'd like contacted? One of the nurses would be happy to send a telegram free of charge." Elizabeth swallowed hard and nodded her head.
"Yes. Um, please have her contact Rebecca Edwards, Marjorie Simms, Maureen O'Connor, and Claudette Reeves. They're all from Boston."
"Anyone else?" the doctor asked, scratching the names down. Elizabeth was about to say more, but before her heart could get the better of her, she shook her head.
"No, that's it. Thank you, Dr. Stevens." The doctor nodded and walked off. Closing her eyes and saying a silent prayer, Elizabeth prepared herself to see her husband lying in the hospital bed, completely vulnerable for the first time in their entire married life.
Opening the door, she walked in and saw him lying unconscious there. He looked so pale, and it frightened her, but she had to be strong. She couldn't let him wake and see her sniveling over him. No, he might have been angry with her, but she knew that he'd be afraid if she was afraid.
"Oh Josef," she whispered, sitting down at his bedside. I'm so sorry. I feel completely responsible for this." She placed her hand over his, finding it alarmingly cool to the touch. "Josef, please don't do this to me. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that you're here because of me. I'll try to do better. I'll try to be better to you. I just…I can't accept some things you want me to. I'll try, but right now, all I want to do is focus on getting you well. Please, please fight. Please don't leave me, Josef. Not now. Please stay here. Stay with me…"
Elizabeth squeezed her husband's hand, and she began to pray again that he would be alright and that together, they could begin to put the pieces of their broken hearts back together.
"No! No, please don't! Please stop!" she screamed. "Oh God! Help! Help me!" Her lungs burned in her chest, and she sharp rocks dig into her bare feet, cutting her, making her bleed. He was in full pursuit, climbing after her, showing no sign of slowing down.
Her fingernails bent and broke as she clawed her way up the stony peak. She screamed so loud, but she was too far out for anyone to hear. Blood trickled down her fingers, pooling at the ledge of her palm before spilling over, down her arms, staining her shirt with her own blood.
She could feel him reaching for her, and she kicked at him, feeling his hand smack against the bottom of her foot. He grabbed onto her, and she struggled, as he began to succeed at bringing her down. Finally, she grabbed hold of a large, jutted out piece of mountain and kicked hard with her feet until he finally broke away from her, sliding down and out of her sight for good.
Michaela woke with a start, covered in sweat and breathing hard. Sully had felt the jolt, and he turned to turn up the bedside lamp. He then turned to his wife.
"Michaela?"
"Go back to sleep," she whispered. "It was…"
"A bad dream?" he asked. Michaela nodded, and Sully reached out to take her hand, feeling the tremors running through her body. "It's over now, he assured her, drawing her into his arms. He held onto her, feeling her relax against him. He reached down, caressing her small belly, and she closed her eyes, slowly easing into a restful sleep in the safety of her husband's arms.
