Chapter 20:
The clatter of wheels drew the attention of the inhabitants away from the monotony of daily life and they glanced up with interest as the horses approached the centre of town. Children broke away from their mothers and tore after the stagecoach, eager to catch a glimpse of the strangers closeted away within it. At the telegraph office, the operator adjusted the ribbons of his neck tie and straightened his waistcoat before stepping out importantly to collect the long awaited sack of letters.
Sniggering at the young gentleman's antics, the bar keeper took a deep puff on his cigar and blowing out a final ring of smoke, stubbed the still glowing end out with his booted toe. Thrusting his thumbs into his low slung belt, he abandoned his post beneath the shelter of the saloon and sauntered across the street to join the rapidly growing crowd around the coach. Catching the eye of the barber exiting his shop, he smiled sardonically and gestured towards the riotous throng. The former quickly fell into step with his comrade and assuming an equally disapproving air, they fought their way together through the masses.
The children were already talking animatedly amongst themselves, their conversation punctured by an occasional peal of laughter as the familiar sights came into view. Even before the stage had drawn to a halt, they were scrambling over each other, fighting desperately to escape the stuffy confines of the coach and rejoice in the late afternoon sunshine that was bathing their home town in hazy, golden rays.
Michaela sat motionless, the elated chatter of her family rushing over her numbed form in deafening waves. As the shafts of sunlight burst through the opened doorway, she swallowed hard, forcibly suppressing the anxiety welling in her throat. Standing up slightly, she could feel the warmth of the small bodies pressing at her sides, jostling, urging her forwards until she stood pale and unsteady on the dry, cracked earth.
The faces seemed to swim before her, individuals merging into a sea of strangers as her eyes darted between them, her mind reeling as it tried vainly to recall their identities. Panic began to encircle her heart and she felt her body tremble as the muffled sounds of their voices reached her ears, echoing dimly down the empty corridor of her memory. To her bewildered mind, the words never formed, the smiles faded away, and as the moments became minutes, her very sanity seemed to linger on the edge of a precipice. She was going to fall.
In that final instant, the hand was extended and feeling its warmth beside her she grasped it fervently, as if the strength of it alone could support her. And as it always had, the grip subtly tightened, suffusing her soul with the certainty her own mind could not produce, the security she so desperately desired. Lifting her eyes once again to the crowd before her, the misty blend of hues seemed gradually to clear, settling into delicate shades, intricate shapes and twisted forms. The hazel eyes seemed welcome to her mind, the blue a kin to her heart, the green a replica of her own; faces and smiles, the familiarity stirred her soul and as Michaela absorbed the sight before her, the tears began to form.
"Dr Mike…."
"Michaela…."
Glancing up, she met the gaze of the two women before her, so different and yet so alike. The shadows of past misery lingered still in their eyes as they stood now, proud, beside one another, the dark skin throwing the fair into sharp relief, living testaments to the cruelty of humanity; the bravest women she knew.
"Dorothy….Grace….."
The names fell from her lips almost without her knowledge yet Instinct provided the confidence of her address. Even as the smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, the hand relinquished its hold and arms encircled her, the tender embraces of friendship welcoming her home.
Sully stepped back and crossing his arms, leaned back against the door of the stage. Her laughter intermingled with the odd sob warmed his heart and he smiled, content to revel in the sight before him. Uncertainty had faded and for the first time since their departure, the light had risen in her eyes once again, the luminescence beaming over the crowd, encompassing the darkness in its vibrance.
"Well now," began Grace, releasing Michaela and wiping her tears on her apron, "ya must be hungry. Why don't ya'll come on over to my café and have some supper. I even got pie for afters."
"What kind Miss Grace?" asked Brian excitedly, having arrived just in time to hear the offer of dessert.
"Apple," answered Grace smilingly.
"My favourite!" exclaimed the young boy. Chuckling at the young boy's vivacity, the older lady slipped an arm around his shoulders.
"I know," she replied and gesturing to his siblings, proceeded to lead the ravenous trio towards her establishment.
"It's good to have you back Michaela," remarked Dorothy quietly, "you sure had us all worried."
"Thank you Dorothy," replied Michaela softly, "it's good to be back."
"So how many doctors ya get all riled up back in Boston huh Michaela?" interrupted Hank, a sarcastic smile marking his features, "we all know what you're like when ya get on your soap box."
An appreciative snigger ran through the somewhat diminished crowd around the coach and Michaela felt her colour rise. However, catching the gleam in the bar keeper's eyes she smiled and nodded in admission of the inescapable truth.
"It's good to see you too Hank."
"Some folks came by while ya was gone, needed some stitches," said Jake from beside his colleague, "I did 'em but said they best come see you too when ya got back."
Her heart swelled at the trust she saw reflected in the faces before her, the deep conviction in her skill and the acceptance she had so arduously sought for all those years in Boston. Her soft reply, when she could master her own voice, seemed wholly inadequate to describe the singular contentment that filled her soul at that moment.
"Thank you Jake, I appreciate it."
"Well, time's awastin' and I got customers waitin'"
Hank's voice abruptly scattered the emotional mood and tipping his hat to Michaela, he sauntered back towards the saloon. Conversation broke out amongst the crowd and many having offered their best wishes to the young doctor, headed off in the direction of Grace's, no doubt to discuss the day's events over a cup of coffee and piece of pie.
Noting her friend's somewhat overwhelmed expression, Dorothy touched her arm.
"You look tired Michaela. Why don't you go home and we can catch up properly over lunch tomorrow?"
Nodding appreciatively, Michaela smiled ruefully.
"I'd like that" she replied.
Returning the slight smile with one of her own, Dorothy turned and followed Loren back towards the general store.
"Maybe we should head home" began Sully as the final remnants of the crowd dissipated.
"Yes…." replied Michaela quietly, "we should."
Sully followed her gaze as it came to rest on the sign hanging beneath the wooden balcony.
Medical Clinic
Dr Michaela Quinn
A knowing smile pulling at his lips, he grasped her arm, directing her glance to meet his own.
"Wanna go in?" he asked; the answer already reflected in the mismatched windows before him. Reaching inside his pocket, Sully pulled out the small, bronze key and placed it into the pale, trembling hand. The grip instantly tightened over it, hiding it from view and swallowing hard, she broke free of his hold and stepped onto the dusty porch. Her hands shook as the key slipped easily into the lock and for a moment she was still, both dreading and desiring what she would find inside. Sensing his watchful gaze on her back, she took a deep breath and turned the key. The door gave way instantly beneath the pressure and creaked open, the rush of light highlighting the interior of the room.
"It's ok," he murmured against her ear, "go on."
Her body felt leaden as she slowly moved forwards, each step a very fight against the emptiness, towards completion. As she approached the desk, her eyes ran over the neat stack of medical journals, the delicate set of scales, and came to rest on the picture perched in the corner. Lifting it up, she ran her hand lovingly over the silver frame, the well remembered faces seeming to speak across the distance, a testimony to her destiny. Holding the picture against her heart, she turned and saw him framed in the doorway, waiting.
"I can see them Sully," she whispered, "I can see their faces."
He watched the light disappear from her eyes as the memories flooded back, the constant struggle against an inevitable darkness, the battles she had won and those she had lost. Carefully removing the picture from her grasp, he replaced it on the desk and wrapped his arms tenderly around her. In the comfort of his embrace, the tears were finally released and Sully felt his soul ache along with hers as the droplets soaked through his shirt, glistening pearls falling noiselessly against his heart.
The siblings chattered noisily, their giggles becoming more exuberant as the wagon drew closer to home. When Sully finally reined the horse outside the wooden homestead, they leapt from their seats and rushed into the house, calling happily to each other as they delighted in the joy of their homecoming. Turning to the silent form beside him, he gently rubbed her shoulder.
"Michaela, we're here."
She started at the contact and lifting her head, blinked away her reverie as she surveyed the sight before her. The humble abode was the antonym of everything she had ever known and yet her heart warmed towards it in a way it never had in Boston. Warmth and light seemed to radiate from every corner, tendrils of affection that enveloped her with an assurance of love, consolation, of sanctuary. Her home.
Releasing a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, Michaela turned to meet his upturned face and smiled. Extending her arms, she rested them lightly on his shoulders and allowed him to lift her up.
The black and white rules of propriety so strictly enforced in Boston seemed suddenly to fade into unfathomable shades of grey against the rugged terrain and as her feet touched the ground, the final fetters around her heart were released. Her soul soared unhindered; she was finally free.
"I best be goin'"
His voice from behind her drew her attention instantly and she faced him, the smile faltering. She had grown so accustomed to his presence that she had not considered the implications their return to Colorado would have on him, on them. Her heart still clung desperately to the refuge he provided and a deep blush rose to her cheeks as her mind vied with Emotion, chiding her dependence and scorning her weakness.
Seeming to read her thoughts, Sully slowly approached her. Taking her hand in his own, he placed a soft kiss to the knuckles before raising his gaze to meet her own.
"I'll see ya tomorrow," he said, "first thing."
Releasing her, he turned away, his heart racing. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to walk away, to tread the dusty path that led away from all that he yearned for, all that he loved.
She watched his retreating form round the corner and disappear around the bend. He never looked back.