Chapter 21

As Sunday evening approached, Sully's frustration had grown to a grade that made it difficult for him to remain polite; Dr. Burke didn't leave them for even the tiniest amount of time. Under the disapproving look of the doctor, Sully sensed that Michaela felt uncomfortable when he wanted to touch her even if it was only that he wanted to hold her hand. Adding to that, the claustrophobic conditions on the train tore at his nerves and as William started referring to Michaela about something he had just read in his medical journal, Sully abruptly rose from his seat next to Michaela and left the tiny compartment without a word. He didn't turn to look back at her but the way he pulled the door closed with a somewhat violent move showed how he felt. Raising her eyebrows apologetically at William who had occupied the seat across from her, Michaela put her journal on the place that had just been deserted and straightened to follow Sully. As William got ready to do the same, she gently laid her hand on his shoulder pushing him down again. "Please, don't."

Dashing his instant protest by heightening the pressure of her hand that was touching him, he at last reluctantly complied recognizing the determination in her eyes. This way, Michaela had lost a few seconds and thus she wasn't able to spot Sully's figure as she finally stepped out on the narrow car corridor, no matter in which direction she turned her head in search for him. Assuming that he had taken the longer way toward the end of the train in order to be able to move his legs a little longer and, maybe, to even get some fresh air on the porch of the very last car, Michaela turned right to hurry after him.

With crossed arms, Sully leaned against the wall next to the entrance of that last car, his irritation still growing since one of the other passengers had told him that he couldn't pass through since it was a private one. As he noticed Michaela approaching him, he stared out of the window giving no sign that he was aware of her presence. Carefully to not provoke further anger, she gently touched his forearm, "I'm sorry, Sully…"

With an edge in his voice, still not looking at her his reply was curt, "You are?"

Sighing, Michaela let her hand fall down and took a step away from him trying to explain, "He only does what he thinks Mother expects him to do. I'm sure she will…"

"So you'll do what she expects from ya, too?"

Both knew that this question held an ambiguity and Michaela found herself momentarily at a loss for words. Stunned that he even considered the possibility she might want to stay in Boston, she looked down at her feet.

Suddenly, the train gave a violent lurch that almost made them lose their footing and without thinking they reached out for each other for support. Thus, Sully finally gained what he had longed for since they had embarked the train forty eight hours ago; he held her in his arms. Still unsure whether the unsteady movements were over, Michaela clung to him and was proved right in doing so as another vehement move threw them against the other wall. Sully's hand had moved to her head and tenderly cupped it protectively so she wouldn't get hurt. After a few moments the danger seemed to have passed and the train went back to its steady ride. However, the couple didn't seem to notice this though, their instincts taking over. Being so close to each other was overwhelming for both of them and Sully forgot about his anger momentarily. Because the last days had been hot ones, he only wore his white-blue striped shirt to his buckskins and feeling Michaela's hands pressing against his shoulder blades gave him the impression that there wasn't any fabric that hindered her touch at all. On top of that, he had cupped her head against his chest so her breath was hitting the place that exposed his skin since he wore his shirt open as always. Closing his eyes he tried to compose himself yet he instinctively tightened his grip on her which made it difficult for Michaela to breathe. She didn't mind though, she felt safe in his protective arms and if she could have her way, she would stand with him this way forever.

Yet an embarrassed clearing of the throat brought them back to reality. A conductor had emerged in the doorway that led to the next car and informed them, "This is a private area, and passengers are not allowed to be here."
Feeling Sully's back muscles tense under her hand, Michaela let her arms fall to her side and turning to the young man she explained softly blushing, "We will leave immediately, just give us two minutes, please."

The conductor looked at her indifferently, not showing that he knew who she was, that he actually was kind of spying on her. Since he didn't have orders for a situation like this and the woman didn't look as if she was frightened or felt uncomfortable, he at last gave in. "Alright, two minutes won't hurt, I guess."

As soon as he had left them alone, Michaela turned to Sully again and reiterated what she had said before, "I'm sorry, Sully."

This time he didn't interrupt her as she tried to explain, "I don't know yet how much it will depend on mother for me to get my inheritance quickly. She's already upset with me and I don't want her to waste our time simply because she gets even angrier that I didn't keep her Bostonian rules on this ride. No one will chaperone us on our way back …"

Her voice trailed off as Sully pulled her back in his arms and gave her another hug. After releasing her, he cradled her face in his large hands and between a shower of tender kisses he murmured, "I… can't… wait… to get… home with… you. I'll… be good…" At this point he paused and lifted his head a little to grin at her impishly only to resume his ministrations immediately, "And… I promise… I'll try… to understand…"

Ending his teasing, he eventually claimed her mouth with his and Michaela, hugging him around his waist and already melting under the touch of his lips, couldn't help but eagerly follow his lead.

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Paul Potter was fuming. He leaned against the door of his private car; he had heard every word. Well, this night he would spring into action and he would take her away from this undeserving man. He had planned everything carefully. Before they had left Denver, he had made sure once again that the arrangements in Kansas City were made. He had decided to take the route south to Tulsa; this way they would leave an hour before the train that was supposed to take her east.

Here on this train, he had chosen a certain conductor, the one whose voice he had just recognized outside his door, to be at his beck and call. First, he had given him a huge tip and then he had taken him into his confidence, explaining that he was sick. It wasn't difficult to pretend that, he always had a cane with him which made people think he needed it. Anyway, then he had told the young man that he was positive that a friend of his, a lady doctor, was aboard as well but he didn't want to worry her and so he asked him only to find out which two cabins belonged to her and her companions. This was how Mr. Potter had learned that Michaela's compartment didn't lay directly next to the men's which would make things much easier for him later.

As another precaution he had asked the conductor to check on him at 10pm and then at 2am again, claiming that this time of the night was the worst for him. With the prospect that his tip might even increase, the young man had done as requested so now everything was prepared for tonight. The train was due in Kansas City at 4am and he was sure that Dr. Quinn's disappearance would only alarm people when his own car was already connected to the train towards Tulsa.

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Hannah had taken her ma's absence quite well, yet on Sunday afternoon the people around her grew concerned. Her usual happy babbling was replaced by a quietness that simply wasn't typical for the little girl. Despite their best efforts, Colleen and Rose weren't able to cheer the doctor's daughter up and Bobbie didn't even try to do so; he simply sat next to her on her cot and held her hand. Unfortunately, Charlotte wasn't in town and couldn't help. The young girls didn't know that in fact, this was good for them, or the midwife would have told them about the strong connection Dr. Mike and Sully's daughter shared; that once, the little girl had known that her pa had found her ma although they were miles away from her…

Hannah was thankful that Bob stayed quiet while his sister and Colleen never seemed to stop talking. She had acknowledged her grandpa's presence and hugged him but she didn't want to go to the mercantile with him, she needed to be at her ma's clinic. The homestead would have been good, too but for a reason she couldn't explain, she felt more connected to her mother in these rooms that belonged to her. Uncle Chris had been nice as well and she was relieved that he would sleep in one of the recovery rooms tonight. As he had asked which bedtime story she wanted she had only gazed at the book with her favorite story, the one he had given her at her birthday. Uncle Chris didn't have to read though; Bob had crawled under the covers with her and told her the story her ma had once thought up. While the boy almost whispered the words he already knew by heart since he had heard them so often by now, he turned the pages with the beautiful pictures Uncle Chris had painted. "There was once a little girl. Her hair was the color of honey…"

As Hannah closed her eyes she was carried away to a place that no one else would ever know. It was a beautiful clearing and the grass was as green as only it could be. The sun shone, the birds chirped and her ma was with her. Usually the little girl relaxed completely as soon as the picture of her mother, in a snow-white dress and with her long hair lightly flowing in the wind, appeared. However, today it was different. The picture was there but it seemed as if it faded; her ma grew transparent. Gasping in horror Hanna's eyes flew open as Bob was finishing the story, "… and the ma loved the little girl, too."

Sensing his friend's anxiety, Robert silently closed the book and gave it to the teacher who sat on a chair next to the bed with his brow furrowed in concern. The little boy knew about fears and he also knew that only the feeling of someone who loved you being close to you was able to relieve some of them. He remembered what Dr. Mike had told her daughter and so he reminded Hannah touching each bead on the string that she refused to pull off even at night, quietly emphasizing, "Ma… comes… back."

Startled out of her troubled thoughts Hannah was soothed by the brown eyes of her friend. She clutched the beads in her little hand and while she slid deeper under the quilt she implored, "Stay here, pease?"

Seeing the little boy nodding, she turned toward the wall and didn't have to wait for him to wrap his arm around her from behind. Closing her eyes she felt the knot in her stomach growing and it was in the wee hours of the night that her fear was almost no longer bearable. Trembling, she lifted the beads and pressing her lips against every single one she murmured, "Ma comes back…" repeatedly, only heard by Chris who still sat next to the children and felt as helpless as he never had before.

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It was as if the child's mantra flew through the night air and reached Michaela at the very moment she realized who this man truly was.

It had softly knocked at her door twenty minutes earlier. Since she had fallen asleep only an hour ago, she was slightly disoriented and didn't wonder that a voice behind the door requested Dr. Quinn. No one on that train, besides Sully and William of course, knew that she was a doctor. However, her instincts had made her grasp her medical bag and then she followed the conductor along the deserted hallways. Since they would have to change the train quite early in the morning, she still wore a dress for which she was thankful right now. It was only when that special car door opened as if by magic, that she recognized the place; even the conductor was the same. Before she had time to digest this coincidence, she found herself face to face with Mr. Potter and for a short amount of time she was relieved finding an acquaintance. The older man's features were strained with pain as he dismissed the young man telling him that from now on, his help wasn't needed anymore and giving him an envelope. Michaela would only later understand that this must have been the reward for getting her into the trap.

Anyway, at first she still believed that her skills as a doctor were needed. Mr. Potter had told her that he had a terrible stomachache. After showing her the place at the other end of the car where she could put down her bag and prepare a tea for him, he excused himself for a moment in order to use his bathroom. Only when she heard a key move did she turn around to see the man lock them in to the car. Still not able to comprehend the situation she questioningly searched for his gaze until her eyes met a large painting of a soldier hanging on the back of the door. She would have recognized this portrait anywhere and finally understanding Mr. Potter's true identity she heard her daughter's voice calling for her. Deciding to not show any fear, she steeled herself for what was to come and kept her voice quiet asking, "Harold is your son?"

"So you remember him?" His voice was still calm as well.

"Of course I do," was her instant reply and she thought she saw the man relax somewhat which made her dare ask, "Do you really need my medical help, Mr. Potter?"

A long silence followed while the older man, still standing at the entrance on the other end of the car, considered her. Eventually he moved, his face noncommittal, and gestured for her to sit down at the small table next to her. Hoping that talking was all he wanted, Michaela complied placing her medical bag on her lap.

As he at last let himself fall on the chair at the other side of the table, his sick mind had made a decision. First, he informed her, "My son is dead."

Michaela's instant assurance, "I'm sorry to hear that," he just wiped away with an angry move of his hand and continued as if she hadn't interrupted him, "He couldn't live without you and so he didn't want to live at all. He shot himself."

A dead silence fell between them while Michaela's medical mind started to work wondering whether the depression was something the young man had inherited from his father. If this was the case, then Mr. Potter would act not fearing any consequences and as she came to this conclusion, she got her answer hearing him say, "And I can't live without my son. I tried, I really did. It was heaven's gift that I found you. You took my son and now I'm taking you."

Still hoping that she could save the situation Michaela reminded him, "I have a daughter who is waiting for me, Mr. Potter."
Obviously, this had been the wrong argument, although any would have been, because in a sudden rush of anger the man shot up from his chair, knocking it down in the process and started yelling, "You should raise my grandchildren and not the brood of a stranger! Wait…"

Out of the blue an idea hit him and with a dark fire in his eyes that she instantly recognized, he stared at her informing her about his conclusion, "I know what we are doing. You took my son, so you owe me one."

Scrutinizing her with a new interest he reiterated after a moment, "You owe me one."

Realizing that this man's mind was sick beyond redemption and thus she wouldn't have a chance to get through to him with reasonable arguments, Michaela's heart started pounding with heavy thumps. Grasping the handle of her medical bag tighter she wracked her mind for what she had read about such cases and whilst the speed of her pulse increased, the sound of the heavy beats of her heart was carried through the train until it reached Sully.

His sleep had been fitful anyway; something he wasn't able to grasp yet didn't sit right and sensing the waves of anxiety, he straightened from his cot.

"Is it already time?" The drowsy voice of Dr. Burke distracted him momentarily.

"Not yet," was all he replied pulling his shirt over.

Growing suspicious, the doctor was insistent, "Where are you going?"

Sully could have lied but didn't want to waste another second and so he simply told the truth, "Michaela. Something's wrong."

William was incredulous, he didn't believe in such things as the sixth sense. Thinking that Sully was only looking for an excuse, he determinedly swung his legs out of the bed as well and rose to his feet next to Sully, who was fully dressed in the meantime, announcing, "I'm coming with you."

Sully disregarded the other man and already pulled the car door open. Heading down the corridor towards Michaela's cabin, all he could think was, "Please, let her be there."

If anything would happen to her, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with it.