Chapter 7:

Love

"The dove descending breaks the air with flame of incandescent terror of which the tongues declare the one discharge from sin and error. The only hope, or else despair lies in the choice of pyre or pyre- to be redeemed from fire by fire. Who then devised the torment? Love. Love is the unfamiliar Name behind the hands that wove the intolerable shirt of flame which human power cannot remove. We only live, only suspire consumed by either fire or fire."

-T. S. Eliot, Little Gidding from "Four Quartets"

Captain Benjamin Wilson stood on the balcony of his New Orleans home, looking out over the city. His sun-streaked hair caught the last rays of the sunset, making it look like gold. The children were sleeping inside and his wife, Anne, was checking on them. It seemed a miracle he'd finally found his baby brother after all that time. He'd wired his father immediately to let him know Byron had been found and was safe. Not only that, but to let him know that Byron would be getting married and had three adopted children of his own. At the same time, he'd wired the children's aunt - letting her know they were safe and that he'd be putting them on the train... well, sort of. He and his wife had been talking about going with them before boarding a train for Colorado. Considering that the children would most likely have to change rail lines, they felt it would be safer not to send them alone.

"Ben?" He turned around to see Anne silhouetted in the doorway. Her long dark hair was loose and fell in heavy waves to her hips.

He held his hand out to her and helped her out on the balcony, then pulled her slender form into an embrace, resting his chin against the top of her head. "I missed you," he said.

"And I you," Anne leaned against him. "It's nice to have children in the house again," she said. Their son was only home on school vacations these days. They stood in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company. The long periods of time he spent away from home were hard on them and their marriage, which made what time they could spend together all the more important.

Ben pressed a kiss into her hair. "Yes, it is," he said. Their two children were pretty much grown and had left home to start their own lives. Their daughter, Lottie, had married the previous year and was expecting her first child, while their son, Henry, was in his first year of college, studying to be an engineer and courting a very sweet girl named Amabel. He sighed. "I bought tickets for all four of us to go to Boston," he admitted.

"Part of me wants to keep them," Anne murmured. "We were never blessed with more children..." she trailed off.

"Anne, you know we can't -" Ben began.

"I know," she said. "Your brother and future sister-in-law must be worried sick."

"We have to take them to Boston," Ben said. "If we take them home, they'll just be taken again by that man." He had told her the children's story - all of it had come out over the voyage to New Orleans.

"I'll have to take them shopping tomorrow." Anne laid her head on his shoulder tiredly. "Colleen is taller than Lottie, and I gave away all of Henry's old things a few years ago. Both of them need new shoes, Brian's clothes are too short and too tight, and Colleen needs girls' clothing, period."

"Why do they need new shoes?" Ben asked curiously. "Their shoes look all right."

"They grew," she said shortly. Anne looked up at him, a faint smile on her face. "I'm sure you remember that children do that."

"Of course I do," he said with a wry smile. "Blink, and they're getting married and moving out. It must be worse for Byron - two of his children were taken from him, and they've now been missing for months."

"You sent a telegram to their aunt," Anne said hesitantly, "did you sent one to their parents?"

Ben was quiet for a few minutes, not really wanting to answer. "No," he said. "I want to tell them in person - my brother's wedding is on May twentieth. It will be tight, but as soon as the children are safe with their aunt, we should be able to get to Colorado Springs a few days before the wedding."

"So we're going to show up uninvited." Anne said.

"Darlin', we're showing up days before the wedding," he reminded her, "and I sent my father and sister a telegram, too." Ben kissed the top of her head. "Twenty-one years, Anne. Twenty-one years of looking for my brother. Twenty-one years of listening to my father pray that he's found at every family gathering..." he trailed off.

"You've found him," she said softly. "But showing up for his wedding uninvited -"

"I need to see him with my own eyes," Ben said. "It's been so long..." He swallowed, hard. "That's why we're going to be there before the wedding," he said. "I have no doubts that my father and Emily will be there, too."

"Since we're going, part of me wants to bring Lottie and Henry as well," Anne said simply. "But I think we might be better off not overwhelming him, since he doesn't know we're coming..." The couple lapsed into silence, and Ben hoped his brother would forgive the years of silence between them. He hoped he had managed to forgive their mother for her angry, hasty words and despite the miles between them, that they could mend the rift in their family. He wanted to know his brother again. He wanted to meet his brother's family and learn about the man his brother had become. In many ways, whenever he thought about Byron, he still saw the lanky kid who tagged along behind him. The kid who spent all his time in his father's workshop. What did Byron look like now?, he wondered. How had he managed to keep himself fed and clothed all those years? He had left as a fourteen-year-old kid. How had he managed? Ben knew that Byron had quit school at eight to work the docks to help keep himself and his mother fed.

He'd helped teach him to read better, but Byron had never gone back to school. Instead, his father had unofficially apprenticed him, teaching him almost everything he knew because Byron had shown a gift for working with wood. His brother had been a natural; it had only taken showing him how to do something once before he could reproduce it. For years, he had wondered, but in a few short weeks, he would see the brother he had never forgotten and never quite managed to leave behind. His father had taken other apprentices over the years, but none of them had ever been part of the family - like Byron was.

Rebecca read the telegram again. For a moment, she didn't know what to do - she, Marjorie, and her mother were going to Colorado Springs and thus, wouldn't be there to take care of the children, and at this point, they were safer in Boston where Ethan Cooper wouldn't know where they were. Maureen didn't want to go, and Claudette had some family obligations - her son was graduating - that she couldn't miss, so they were staying in Boston. She drew in a deep breath. There had to be something they could do - the children couldn't stay alone, and there was no way Maureen would take them. Perhaps, Claudette? There was only one way to find out. She rang the bell in the parlor.

It wasn't long before her butler, Jefferson, answered. "Yes, Ma'am?" he asked.

"Jefferson, I need you to have the carriage brought around," she directed. Claudette's social calendar was open for the day and she'd be receiving callers that morning, anyway.

He nodded. "Will there be anything else?" he asked, his tone respectful.

Rebecca smiled. "No, thank you." Absently, she noticed him leave as she began to gather her things. She folded the telegram and placed it in her reticule, then pinned on her hat and drew on her gloves. It took a few more minutes to locate her parasol before she headed outside where the carriage was waiting.

She allowed herself to be helped into it and opened her parasol over her head before giving the driver Claudette's address. The trip over gave Rebecca some time to think. She was relieved that Brian and Colleen were safe, but she knew nothing about the man who had signed the telegram. Who was Captain Benjamin Wilson, anyway, and why had he taken an interest in her niece and nephew? Was he at all honorable, or would he try and extort money from the family for the children? Colleen was barely fifteen - would he try and take advantage of her young, innocent niece? For that matter, would Brian be safe with the man? They would be arriving the day before she, Richard, Marjorie and their mother were due to leave for Colorado Springs. The trip to Claudette's house passed much too slowly for her, while worry after worry crossed her mind. Part of her wanted to hop a train for New Orleans, but by the time she arrived, the children would be in Boston - it simply wasn't practical. She also wanted to send a telegram to Michaela, but felt it would be better to wait until they had the children safe with the family in Boston. She also felt that as Richard was Michaela's and Sully's lawyer, she should talk to him before anything was done.

When they arrived at Claudette's house, she hurried out of the carriage and up the steps to the front door and rang the bell. Impatiently, she waited until the butler answered the door. "Tell my sister I'm here to see her on a family matter," she said. It didn't take long before she was escorted to the parlor where her sister was sitting with a few members of her sewing circle. She knew there had been talk about perhaps taking up a collection to get new carpet for the vestibule at the church, and perhaps that's what her sister was up to. Rebecca waited patiently until the other women left. She pulled the telegram from her reticule.

"Rebecca, it's not that I'm not happy to see you, but why are you here in the middle of the week?" Claudette asked.

Rebecca handed over the telegram. "Our niece and nephew have been found, but there's a problem."

Claudette read the telegram. "We can thank Providence for that, " she said. "And they're being brought to Boston... I see." She looked up at Rebecca. "You can't take them back to Colorado Springs," she said. "Mr. Cooper will look for them there."

"And owing to Michaela's wedding, neither mother nor I will be here." Rebecca said.

"Marjorie will be going with you, too, but she would never take them; neither will Maureen." Claudette said wryly. She hesitated. "I will have to speak to James, but we have the space..." she trailed off.

Rebecca walked forward and hugged her sister. "Thank you," she said, as she sat down next to her sister on the couch.

Claudette hugged her back. "No one is allowed to hurt our family," she said firmly. "And only the four of us are allowed to give Michaela a hard time!"

Rebecca smiled a little. "I'm sure that Mother and her children might disagree with you," she said. "Matthew was... difficult for a time, and I'm sure he sometimes still is."

"Well he was fifteen when his natural mother died," Claudette observed. "I'm sure he thought he was an adult."

Rebecca just shook her head. She'd been through that with her eldest. "He's almost eighteen now," she said. "And engaged. For Michaela's sake, I hope it's a long one - we're much too young to become great-aunts."

Claudette laughed. "Mother insisted we wait until we were twenty. I can imagine how well that went over with Matthew!"

"Probably not at all," Rebecca said ruefully. "She'll probably have more luck with Colleen and Brian if the court rules in her favor."

"Perhaps not with Colleen," Maureen mused. "After all, she was what? Thirteen when she came into Michaela's care?"

"But she has completely accepted Michaela and Sully as her parents," Rebecca pointed out. "And Sully is... very protective of Michaela and the children."

Claudette gave a very unladylike snort. "I pity their daughters when they become old enough to notice boys," she said.

"Colleen is already there," Rebecca observed. "We should pity the young man who has to face Sully and ask to court her."

"Just wait until our girls become old enough," Claudette predicted.

"Elsie is around Colleen's age, but Penelope is older..." Rebecca trailed off. The sisters settled in for a nice, long chat, and she used the opportunity to voice her concerns over Benjamin Wilson. If it hadn't been for the time constraint, perhaps she would have managed to look into the man's background, but as things stood, he and the children would be there in less than a week. Somehow, though, Claudette managed to ease her fears. Soon, the children would be safe with them. Soon, Michaela would marry Sully, and soon, the court case would go forward to make the children legally part of their family.

Colleen stood on the back of the train, watching the scenery pass. She liked Uncle Ben and Aunt Anne, and from what she had managed to glean from conversations with her new uncle, it wasn't surprising that Sully had never mentioned that time in his life. Apparently, what her uncle's mother had said and what Sully had overheard had almost been unforgivable. It had been enough to make a fourteen-year-old Sully take his chances with going west on his own with very little money and almost no supplies. According to her uncle, the only word they'd ever received afterwards were short notes that contained money-Sully had sent back every penny they'd ever spent on him for the four years he'd lived with them. He'd even sent money to pay for a four-year apprenticeship. Sully's actions had shamed Uncle Ben's mother and over time, she realized exactly what she'd thrown away.

"Colleen?" Brian stepped out the door and tugged at the collar of his shirt. They'd been taken out shopping for new clothing, and while Brian's new things weren't the dreaded sailor suits of San Francisco, they were fussier than what their mother chose for him and from Brian's reaction much more uncomfortable. Colleen could say the same for her two new dresses, too-they were the latest fashion with bustled backs, which made sitting down rather... interesting. They were better than what Lillian had given them, though, by way of comfort.

"Yeah?" she said.

He pulled at the tight collar of his new suit again. "Do you think Sully will be happy that we found Uncle Ben?"

"I hope so," Colleen replied. "I know he and Aunt Anne are gonna go to Colorado Springs after they leave us with Aunt Rebecca. I just hope Sully is happy to see him."

Brian looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't he? I'd be happy to see you and Matthew if I hadn't seen ya for a long time."

Colleen took a deep breath. "Because Pa ran away from them after he overheard Uncle Ben's mother say some terrible things about how he was just gutter trash they'd taken in and how he'd never be a child of hers."

Brian looked shocked. "But Sully's a real good person," he protested, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "He's much better than Ethan, an' he can do anything."

"Uncle Ben also said that she yelled at his father about how much money it took to keep Sully, and how they could be getting apprenticeship fees from any other child."

Brian was quiet for a few minutes, staring unseeing at the tracks as they came from underneath them. "That's why Pa sent money back, ain't it?"

"I think so," Colleen said, pushing her braids back over her shoulders. "That's what I would've done. And Sully don't like owin' people nothin'."

"Bet he paid back every last red cent," Brian said.

"He did - and more." Uncle Ben's deep voice said. The children turned around to find him standing in the doorway. "It shamed our mother, because of what she'd labeled him."

"It should have," Colleen muttered as she rested her hands on the railing. "Our ma does her best to make us feel like we belong with her because she loves us. Sully does, too."

"If he didn't, he wouldn't have wanted to adopt us," Brian said.

"You children were fortunate," Uncle Ben said softly. "You found a new family."

"We know," Brian said. "An orphan train came through a while back, and they didn't have nothin'. They were like us, only we had Ma and they didn't."

"Nobody cared enough about them to even try, except Dr. Mike" Colleen said softly. "She didn't know what she was doing, and she's said it took her time to learn to love us, but she took us anyway."

"My father loved Byron," Uncle Ben said softly. "And my sister and I took to him right away, so until he left, he had the three of us. But my mother resented having him in our home; I never found out exactly why."

"How much longer until we're in Boston?" Brian asked. "I'm thinkin' that we'll end up with Aunt Maureen or Aunt Claudette or Aunt Marjorie, 'cause of the weddin', and they don't like us much."

Uncle Ben looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Colleen sighed. "They don't approve of Ma being a doctor," she explained.

"They think she should be a society lady like them an' marry rich," Brian said. "They don't like it that she took us in and is workin' for a living."

"When we visited a while back, all they could say were hateful things to her," Colleen chimed in. "And I bet they really don't approve of Sully."

Uncle Ben didn't comment. "Come back inside, children," he said instead. "Your aunt is worried about you."

Colleen and Brian exchanged a glance, and then obeyed without discussion. She knew they'd been lucky to meet Uncle Ben; she'd heard stories detailing what could happen to girls on their own and had no desire to share that fate. As she walked down the corridor of the train, following her uncle, suddenly she missed her mother. More than anything, she wanted to be wrapped in her mother's arms, where it was safe and life made sense again. That sense of missing Dr. Mike was ever-present and at times it would hit her suddenly with a bone-deep ache. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mother.

Michaela sat in Snowbird's tipi, wishing she had something to do with her hands. But her first robe was finished, and she'd been inducted into the Quiller's Society. In some ways, it was like the quilting circle in town, and she'd been easily accepted by most of the women. Not all, of course, because in every group there were bound to be some who didn't get along. Blue Feather in particular didn't seem to like her, but Snowbird had explained that Blue Feather had wanted to marry Sully herself.

"She has made a nuisance of herself," Snowbird explained. "He has made it clear that he wants nothing to do with her."

"He had better," Michaela's eyes narrowed. "I will not share."

"You should not," Snowbird agreed. "I do not want to share Cloud Dancing."

Michaela smiled briefly, thinking back a few years to when Cloud Dancing was almost required to take another wife. "I know," she said, looking down at the ground. "Will you be my matron of honor?" she asked. "Stand with Sully, Cloud Dancing and me at our town wedding?"

"Yes - I wish to see my sister wed." Snowbird studied her face. "Something troubles you, my sister," she said slowly.

Michaela bent her head and felt heat rise in her face. She'd received letters from her mother, Maureen, Claudette and Marjorie, all telling her things about the, "wifely duty" that had made her more nervous and scared of what was to come. Every one of them had informed her that it was her own fault if she didn't like it and that she was to allow Sully to do what he liked because it was his right as her husband. Maureen had been even cruder about it, telling her that as he was a savage, she wouldn't be surprised if he attacked her like an animal in heat and kept her pregnant until she died in childbirth. She loved Sully. She trusted him. But their words combined with her own nervousness and slight fear of the event had made everything seem so much worse. "I'm marrying Sully soon," she said softly.

Understanding dawned on Snowbird's face. "You are frightened," she said.

Michaela nodded slightly.

"And nervous because you have not..." Snowbird paused. "That is normal," she said softly. "We only share our blankets with out husbands, and your fear is natural." She reached out, took Michaela's hand, and squeezed it.

"He has been married before," Michaela murmured, still studying the ground.

"You fear you will not please him," Snowbird said calmly. At Michaela's nod, she continued. "Cloud Dancing and I did the best we could," her voice was soft and reflective. "But there was something broken inside Lone Hawk that remained that way... until he met you."

Michaela looked up suddenly, shocked. "But -"

Snowbird shook her head. "I know my husband's brother; he fought with all his might against what he felt for you. From the beginning, he started to heal. He loves you, Medicine Woman and you please him by loving him back."

"I don't know how - what to do..." she trailed off.

"That is what the ten days are for," Snowbird said gently. "You will teach each other. And he will take great pride in pleasing you."

Michaela felt heat rise in her face and neck again. "Everything I have been told and everything I have ever read says that the pleasure is only for the man," she murmured.

Snowbird once again squeezed her hand. "They are wrong," she said firmly. "Why do you think men and women keep coming together after all this time?"

"Children," Michaela said promptly.

Snowbird shook her head. "Children are the consequence," she said simply.

"I may be too old to give him that," Michaela said hesitantly.

"No," Snowbird raised her hand and pushed a strand of Michaela's hair over her shoulder. "I am older than you are," she reminded her gently. "It was not so long ago that I was with child." Gently, she wrapped her arms around her, and gave her a tight hug. "Just as after you wed, he will be allowed to touch you and remove the rope, and you will be allowed to touch him without restraint. You will belong to each other."

Michaela wrapped her arms around her sister and hugged her back. "I am still nervous," she admitted.

"But not afraid?"

"Not as afraid." Michaela took a deep breath.

"Trust him and trust yourself," Snowbird said softly as she released her. "The first time will hurt, and there will be blood, but it will improve."

Logically, she knew it would hurt, but just to hear it made her want to shrink inside herself. She knew enough about the mechanics of procreation to know that. Mutely she looked at her friend.

"It will," Snowbird promised. "A man who cannot please his wife is not a man."

Michaela clasped her hands together. "I don't know..." she began.

"It will be fine," Snowbird interrupted firmly. "Now, help me bead Cloud Dancing's new moccasins."

Michaela took the other moccasin from Snowbird and began to duplicate the pattern, sewing each individual bead on and her nerves, which had been jangling at the thought of the upcoming wedding night, began to settle. For the first time since receiving the letters, she let go of her fears. Perhaps it would be all right after all. She loved and trusted Sully and he had promised to take it easy. They had purposely put nine days between their Cheyenne wedding and the town wedding. Perhaps by then, she would be ready.

Michaela sat at her desk in the clinic, making a list of what still had to be done before the wedding in fifteen days. Beside her sat the beads to finish embellishing Cloud Dancing's moccasin, because Snowbird had sent it along, probably realizing that in quiet moments, she needed to keep busy. It had been quiet for the past few days, as if people realized that she had a lot to do before the wedding and very few people had come to see her. For once, there hadn't been emergencies and she had received word from her mother that arrangements were being made for a honeymoon in Denver as a wedding gift. Sully hadn't been sure of the idea, until she'd pointed out that they would avoid the shivaree that way.

The bell rang, so she put her list aside and went to answer the door. Dorothy was standing behind it. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Are you sick?"

Dorothy looked troubled. "Can I come in?" she asked.

Michaela stepped back from the door. "What's the problem?" she asked.

Dorothy walked in, shutting the door behind her. "Why didn't you tell me that I'm not the matron of honor?" she asked.

"I never asked you to be," Michaela said reasonably. "I told you weeks ago that Rebecca, my eldest sister, and her husband, Richard, are coming for the wedding, and that I've asked Matthew to give me away."

"And word is that you've asked Cloud Dancing and his wife to be involved," Dorothy crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes," Michaela said simply. "Cloud Dancing is Sully's dearest friend and I have grown very fond of Snowbird." She didn't dare mention her adoption by the Cheyenne woman; not only would Dorothy not understand, but if she published it the consequences would not be desirable for her practice. The anti-Indian sentiment was far too great. It would be hard enough explaining to Rebecca and if she came, her mother. Most townsfolk would simply assume that Sully had asked it of her so Snowbird would not be alone in a group of strangers.

"But they're Indians," Dorothy protested, bringing her hands to her sides and clenching her fists. "Savages."

"They're people," Michaela corrected gently. "We're the interlopers here, Dorothy. This was their land first. They have a different culture and a different way of life, but that doesn't make them evil."

"But the Dog Soldiers dug up Maude. They dug up my sister," Dorothy protested.

"And the townsfolk dug up their entire cemetery," she pointed out.

"They attack people," Dorothy persisted. "Rape and loot and kill."

"They are at war." Michaela's voice was grim. "Everything has been taken from them, and so they see going renegade and fighting as their only option. Our soldiers kill and rape and loot their people. They murder women, children, and old men and proclaim military victories. Can we really blame the few that fight back for doing so?"

"You sound like you agree with them," Dorothy looked angry.

"No," Michaela said softly. "I don't agree... but I understand. And it is only a few - will you judge a whole nation by the actions of a few?"

"Help me understand, Michaela," Dorothy said quietly.

Briefly, she wondered how they'd gotten from her wedding to the Cheyenne. "I first met Chief Black Kettle of the Southern Cheyenne when Brian ran away and I needed help finding him. Even though it would get them in trouble with the army, he sent out search parties to look for him." She paused and walked over to her chair and sat down. Briefly, she considered picking up the moccasin to work on it, but changed her mind. She needed to convince Dorothy of her sincerity, and it was easy to hide deceit by not looking into someone's eyes. It was better to look directly at her-she'd learned that from her father a long time ago.

"Did they?" Dorothy asked.

"Yes." She drew in a deep breath. "If I hadn't stood in front of a Calvary charge, they might've all been killed for leaving the reservation to search for Brian. The next time I met Black Kettle, the army had attacked and shot him and I had to perform surgery to save his life." She paused. "I've never met a man who wants peace more than he does. He says that he lives in hopes that someday there will be peace between our people. That was when he gave me my Cheyenne name - Heséeotá'e - it means 'Medicine Woman'." Slowly, she began to tell all the stories of her interactions with the Cheyenne, barely noticing when Dorothy started to take notes. The only thing she left out was her adoption, knowing instinctively that her friend would not understand...

TBC...