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Chapter SixteenThe last scoop of dirt was thrown over the grave of Samuel Bing, as mourners paid their last respects. Myra stood with Abagail and Martin to the side, while Horace stayed to the back of the crowd, not wishing to be seen. But, he had been seen, and the citizens of Colorado Springs took notice.
Sully and Michaela stood with the children near Myra, and Michaela was holding her friend's hand for support. Abagail had Myra's other hand, and just knowing these ladies were going to be there for her made her feel a tiny bit better. But, it didn't take away from the fact that Sam wasn't coming back. Watching them place his tiny wooden coffin into the ground had been hard enough, and after placing a rose on top of it, Myra had watched them ever so slowly cover him up.
His grave was just below the giant oak tree so he could always keep cool in the summertime. Myra knew that Sam would have loved the summer, and it was a shame that he'd never get to experience the joys that came with childhood in the summer time. He'd never get to go fishing at the creek with his friends or swimming on a hot, humid day. She kept trying to tell herself that at least he wouldn't have to suffer through the hardships that came with adulthood and growing up. He'd never have to worry about being hungry or lonely. Instead, he would watch over those who loved him and make sure they were taken care of.
The mourners slowly began to leave the graveyard, and Horace had left moments after the last shovel full of dirt was placed over his son's grave. Sully took Michaela's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She looked at him with tears in her eyes, squeezed Myra's hand, and walked off with the man she loved and his family.
The Sully family and Michaela had been invited to Grace and Robert E.'s for lunch, because Grace had closed the café for the day. They were going to have a wake after the funeral, but Myra didn't want that. She felt in her heart that her little boy would want them to move on and not cry anymore. Though, that wouldn't stop her from locking herself in her room at the boarding house and crying non-stop until she fell into a restless sleep.
Neither Michaela nor Sully felt like eating, but they wanted the children to be with their friends. So, Matthew and Colleen followed the Smith family, while Sully and Michaela took Brian to the wagon. They rode over toward the clinic, and when they arrived, Sully took Brian upstairs for a nap. When he returned, downstairs, he found Michaela already beginning to unpack the things that she had intended to take with her back to Boston.
"Ya sure intended to take everything, didn't ya?" Sully asked, walking over to open up one of the cases. Michaela merely nodded her head.
"I couldn't just leave it all here." She began to place medicines and containers back on the bare shelves where they had been before. Sully looked at all of the things Michaela had to unpack, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with all of them.
"Where do ya want this?" He held a box with all of her surgical equipment in it.
"Over there," she instructed.
"And this?" he asked a moment later. Michaela sighed with a smile on her face.
"Sully, you don't have to help."
"I want to," he insisted. Michaela smiled again and moved to grab a few more bottles of medicine. Sully watched her unpack, and she could feel his eyes on her back. It made her feel somewhat comfortable to know that he was there with her. It had been an emotional morning, and having him there was a great comfort.
Michaela turned to carry something up the stairs and smacked right into Sully. She nearly dropped what she was carrying, but caught hold of it before it clattered to the floor. She and Sully shared a laugh between them, and Michaela quickly skirted out of the way when her heart began to pound. She saw the way Sully was looking at her, and though she liked it, she was slowly beginning to grow nervous. Never in her life had someone paid so much attention to her. It was all so overwhelming!
She rushed up the stairs, and Sully began working at placing linens into Michaela's closet. That was something he surely couldn't mess up, considering the fact that they were already neatly folded. He could hear her shoes on the wooden floors upstairs, and after a few minutes, he wondered what was taking her so long.
"Michaela?" Michaela's footsteps made their way down the stairs. She smiled at Sully when she reappeared. "Thought ya got lost."
"No," she replied plainly, moving to grab a few things out of the case to take to another shelf. Sully watched her for a moment before going back to what he was doing. He knew she was nervous, and he couldn't blame her. Everything had been happening rather quickly, and with everything else that had been happening lately, he couldn't blame her for being a little nervous, so he decided to lighten the mood and talk about something else.
"Colleen's sixth birthday is in a couple days," he commented.
"I know," Michaela answered with a happy smile.
"Oh,
right, ya gave Ella to her." Michaela nodded. "That really
meant a lot to her. She won't let that doll out of her
sight."
"I'm glad. Ella was my favorite doll as a child,
and I'm glad that Colleen loves her so much."
"Well, I was wonderin' if ya wanted to come to the party we're havin' for her," Sully noted. "I'm not sure what to get her yet, but last year, she refused to let me buy her anything. She only wanted Charlotte."
"That's awful," Michaela whispered, feeling bad for the poor little girl.
"But this year, she keeps saying that she knows what she wants, but when I ask her, she refuses to tell me. She wants me to guess or somethin'."
"There's a little girl for you," Michaela said with a wink. "I'd be happy to come out for the party. I'll see if I can cook something . . ."
"You can cook?"
"Well . . ." Michaela hesitated. Sully laughed. "So, I'll be there. What time?" They both laughed, and Sully told her he'd pick her up at noon on Colleen's birthday.
Throughout the afternoon, they worked side by side in a rather comfortable silence. Sully kept his space, because he knew that Michaela was still upset about the events of the morning. Once in awhile, he'd reach over to softly rub her back, and she's return a smile in kind, knowing that he was doing his best to support her and help her.
Once the unpacking was completed, it was well past two in the afternoon, and Michaela felt the effects of hunger coming over her. The smell of meatloaf from Grace and Robert E.'s home came wafting through the open window of the clinic. Sully looked over at Michaela, hunger taking over him as well.
"Now
that we're done, ya wanna go get somethin' to eat at Grace's?
I'm sure her offer's still good."
"That sounds like a
lovely idea," Michaela replied with a smile. Sully made it
upstairs to get Brian, and once he returned, he helped her on with
her light coat, and she linked her arm through his. They marched
toward the Smith's home, completely lost in the beautiful sunny
afternoon. But, that beautiful feeling was quickly smashed when
Michaela glanced toward the saloon to see Hank standing there with
Loren. Something was going on.
"Sully, look," Michaela whispered, nodding toward the saloon. Horace was bent over an empty trough, emptying the contents of his stomach into the bottom of it. Loren reached over and thumped the telegraph operator on the back, causing his stomach to lurch again. Loren stepped back, giving Horace some room. Michaela began to walk toward the saloon, but Sully gently took her hand. She turned toward him.
"Ya gotta let him do this alone."
"But, Sully, I need to help him."
"You're only gonna make it worse." He hadn't meant that to sound the way it probably had, and Michaela knew it.
"I'm a doctor, Sully, and I took an oath to help people. Horace needs my help." She broke free from Sully and hurried toward the saloon, leaving him with Brian in the middle of the street.
Horace' s head was still hanging over the side of the trough when Michaela arrived.
"Horace?" Horace recognized the woman's voice, but couldn't find the strength to lift his head.
"Let him be, doc. Horace just had one too many," he said with a dry laugh.
"He shouldn't be drinking now," Michaela said softly. She put her hand on Horace's back. "Horace, it's Michaela." The rage that had built up inside of him strengthened him enough to let him lift his head.
"Leave me alone," he sputtered.
"You're drunk, Horace, and you need to rest," Michaela noted. A few men in the saloon had come to join the growing crowd.
"Don't tell me what to do! Ya don't know what I need!" Horace stood and began to stumble toward the telegraph office. Loren accompanied him so he wouldn't stumble and fall. Horace tried to break away, but he didn't have the best control of his motor skills at the moment.
"Horace, please! I want to help you!" Michaela followed after him. Sully, sensing something bad was going to happen, passed Brian off to Maude, who had come out of the general store to see the commotion. He rushed to make sure Horace didn't fall and break his neck. At that point, Horace tugged away from Mr. Bray so roughly that he ended up falling into the dirt. Loren looked stunned, and Michaela glanced at him.
"Loren, it's alright."
"Leave me alone!" Horace screamed, standing up shakily. "You don't know what you're talkin' about! Ya ain't a good doctor. Ya killed my son. Ya gotta pay!" Sully rushed to Michaela's side.
"Horace, calm down!" he said, stepping in front of Michaela so that Horace wouldn't do something stupid in a drunken rage.
"That's right," Horace muttered. "You're protectin' her. Well, she's gonna need somebody to . . .to st . . .stick up for her." The alcohol was really taking over him now. "First thing in the mornin', I'm wirin' Denver."
"What are ya talkin' about?" Sully asked.
"I'm suin' her! She killed my son, and she's gonna pay!" Myra, hearing everything that had just happened, rushed up.
"Horace, ya take it back!" she yelled. "Dr. Mike didn't kill Sam!" Michaela was shaking on the inside now. She hadn't gotten the chance to get to know Horace very well, but she had never seen him like this before. He was out of control.
"How could ya say that?" Horace asked, stumbling toward his wife. "Ya know what happened!" Myra began to cry, remembering her little boy's death.
"I know what happened," she whispered. She looked at the crowd that was now eyeing Michaela the way they had after she'd announced Sam's death. "Dr. Mike is a good doctor! She did what she could to save my baby's life! He was gonna die if she didn't operate, and he was fine! He was fine!" She was screaming so loud that mothers were beginning to sob, reliving painful pasts with their own children. Michaela moved to her friend's side and put a hand on her shoulder. Myra broke down, and Michaela pulled her into a hug. The citizens of Colorado Springs watched the scene, seeing the compassion and love that Michaela had inside of her. Horace stood by, watching incredulously.
"Myra, how could ya?" he asked. "How could ya say it wasn't her fault?" Myra pulled away from the doctor and turned back to her husband as Sully tried to get the crowd to break up.
"How?" she asked. "How? Because, I know it wasn't her fault! Horace, you were the one who was supposed to be takin' care of Sam when I was out. You let it happen! You let him die!" Horace looked as if he'd been shot through the heart, a look that wasn't uncommon upon his face lately.
"Myra," Michaela whispered. "Let's get you to the clinic so you can rest." Myra shook her head.
"I'm alright," she whispered. "I just don't think it's right for people to place blame on somebody when it's their own fault." Myra started off alone, needing to be by herself for a while. Horace shouted after her.
"I'll prove it!" Horace cried out. "Just wait 'til the judge gets here!" Sully was about to speak up, but Jake Slicker interrupted.
"Nobody's gonna testify against ya, Horace. Ya got no proof that she'd a bad doctor. All you got is somethin' bad that happened." Horace faced him, angrier than anyone had ever seen him.
"Ya never had your child die!" Horace screamed. Something inside of Jake snapped, and though he wanted to hit Horace, he knew the drunken man wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight. Horace turned back to Michaela.
"Just wait, Dr. Mike. Ya ain't ever gonna get to practice medicine again."
"Back off, Horace!" Sully finally interjected. Horace stumbled forward, allowing his fist to start toward Sully's face. Sully ducked out of the way, and Horace fell over him onto the ground. Sully helped him stand, and when Horace fought back, Jake moved to take him roughly by the forearms. He twisted them behind the man's back and pinned him against the outside wall of the saloon. Everybody stared in shock. The alcohol finally overwhelmed Horace, and he passed out. Jake looked at Hank.
"Help me get him home." With that, it was over, and Michaela stood with Sully in the center of the disappearing crowd.
"You alright?" he asked her. Michaela brushed away the tears and nodded her head. Sully pulled her close and felt that she was trembling.
"C'mon, let's get you to the clinic." She nodded, and Sully led her back to where they'd come from. Maude called over, promising to watch young Brian, and Sully nodded his thanks in her direction.
Sully shut the door to the clinic as soon as he and Dr. Mike were inside. He helped her with her coat and pulled over a chair for her to sit on. He knelt next to the chair and looked into her sad, tired eyes.
"You feelin' better?"
"Not really," she whispered, the tears falling freely and cascading down her face like tiny rivers.
"What Horace said wasn't true. Ya ain't a bad doctor. You've done a lot of good for folks already, and they see that. Did ya see the way they looked at ya after Myra talked to 'em? They don't blame you, Michaela. Horace is grievin'. I never lost a child before, but I came close, and it's a bad feelin'." Michaela looked even more upset now. "I didn't mean to bring that up." He sighed and took her hands in his.
"I know," Michaela whispered. "But, Sully, if he really goes through with this; if he sues me for malpractice, a judge may very well take away my license to practice medicine."
"I ain't gonna let that happen."
"We're powerless here, Sully."
"If it happens, and if I know ya as well as I think ya do, this case'll be taken all the way to Washington if it has to in order to get your license back." Michaela sniffled and dried her tears.
"Thank you for having faith it me, Sully. It means more to me than you'll ever know." Sully pulled the woman he loved into his arms, whispering comforting words to her to let her know that things were going to turn out just fine.
Jake Slicker shut the door to the barbershop after he and Hank lugged Horace's drunken body over to the telegraph office. They had barely gotten him to his bed before he emptied the rest of the contents of his stomach upon the floor of his room.
Jake's hands were shaking, and he longed for a drink so much that he could practically taste the whiskey. Unfortunately, Hank was actually sticking to his plan for once and keeping Jake away from liquor of any kind. He hadn't had a drink in what seemed like an eternity, but the day's events were pressing down hard on him. Horace's words repeated over and over in his head until he wanted to pull his hair out.
"Ya never had your child die!" Jake practically fell into his barbering chair, and he swiveled it around so he could look in the mirror. "Ya never had your child die!" God, he could have punched Horace into next Wednesday for that. Nobody knew the secret that Jake bore. Nobody knew what kind of pain he'd been through. Nobody would understand.
He stood up and walked up the stairs to his little room above his shop. He sat down on the bed and pulled a tin box out of his bedside drawer. He opened it and took out a small, folded piece of paper. He opened it up, and though he couldn't read it, he remembered every word that had been read to him.
Dear Jacob,
I have news, my love! I talked to Dr. Porter this morning, and he says we're having a baby! Can you believe it? Oh, my love, I cannot wait until you come home. I can't wait to start making plans. We've waited so long for this, and our dreams are finally coming true! I hope you don't mind us naming him after you if he's a boy! I figured you wouldn't object. I love you so much.
Your dearest Annabelle
He held the paper up to his nose, and it still carried the faint sweet scent of lilac water. "Ya never had your child die!"
"I'm sorry, Annabelle," Jake whispered. He shut the paper away in the tin box again, hoping the smell of lilacs would never fade away. The longer he kept it hidden and locked away, the longer the scent would be there, waiting for him to open it up again and remember everything that had happened before he came to Colorado Springs.
