Chapter Twenty-One
"Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Mr. Johnson," Lydia said with a smile as she placed her hand on the front door knob at her home. She was shivering even under her warm dress in the hottest day of May. She could feel his eyes on her, and it made her nervous and happy all at the same time. Albert was a wonderful man, and her heart told her that he was the right one. He was The One. But, her conscience told her that he deserved better. Damaged goods. She was angry with herself for thinking in such a way.
"Hey now, no more of that," Albert insisted. "It's Albert, remember? I can still call you Lydia, I hope." Lydia thought for a moment. She bit her lips as the whalebone of her corset started to feel tighter. She caught her breath and sighed softly.
"It's hardly proper," she whispered. "But then, again, who am I to speak of propriety?" She looked away, and Albert gently tilted her chin and made her look at him.
"Don't go saying that. You're a good woman, Lydia, and I'll make sure you see that." Lydia smiled at his thoughtful words. He'd made her see so many things. He'd made her feel happy again, but life wasn't supposed to be happy anymore for her. She was grateful to him. She was falling for him, but she hated the way her conscience tried to keep her from making the decisions that would make her happy. Didn't she deserve to be happy?
"I appreciate that, but it's not necessary."
"I think it is. You really don't realize how…how beautiful you are, do you?" Lydia's breath caught at his words, and he smiled up at her before turning to start down the steps. When he reached the bottom, he turned back to her to find her still watching him. "Good night, Miss Grayson." He turned again. His formality stung, and she didn't like it. She called out to him.
"Albert," she said softly. He stopped and turned back toward her voice. "You may call me Lydia." Albert smiled at her, and he took in her features as she stood in the haze of dusk. She was beautiful. Her long, black hair was shining, and her gray eyes bore right into his soul. He stepped forward and moved to stand on the step with Lydia. Their eyes met, and her face paled. His fingertips lightly caressed her cheek, and he leaned in, pressing a simple but sweet kiss where his fingers had been.
"Good night, Lydia," he said softly. He started to turn, but she grabbed his arm. He was surprised, and when he turned back to her, she was doubling over in pain. "Lydia!" A moment later, her eyes rolled back, the blood rushed from her face, and she went limp. He caught her before she hit the pavement, and he rushed her inside.
Michaela stepped into the kitchen where Martha was busily preparing the dishes for the next day's use, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she leaned against the wall. Martha grinned at her.
"Congratulations, Miss, on your engagement!"
"Thank you, Martha," Michaela said with a big smile.
"Is something the matter?" She was referring to the flush upon Michaela's cheeks.
"Everything's fine," Michaela promised. "Everyone is already talking about the wedding, and Sully and I have only been engaged a couple of hours." She laughed and shook her head. "Sully and I are overwhelmed. He's speaking with Father, and I broke away from my sisters. Marjorie and Rebecca are flocking around me like a bunch of silly birds." Martha laughed heartily.
"It's been a long time since we've held a wedding here, Miss. You and Mr. Sully seem to be very much in love."
"We are," Michaela said with a sigh as a smile crossed her lips. She moved over to take a seat at the counter. Martha passed her a cup of tea, much like she'd always done for her since she was a little girl. Michaela sipped the warm liquid. "Your mother has been very quiet this evening," Martha said, knowing she could overstep her bounds when the youngest Quinn was in her company. Michaela shook her head sadly.
"Yes. I'm afraid Mother will never accept my commitment to Sully nor his to me. She'll never understand how much we love one another."
"She does want you to be happy," Martha explained with a raised eyebrow.
"She wants me to be happy with the man she wants me to marry, though I don't think she truly has anybody in mind anymore. David certainly isn't an option, not that I ever would have married him after what he put me through so many years ago." She shook her head. "Rebecca and Marjorie are already picking out wedding gown patterns. Father is planning a celebratory supper for tomorrow evening at the hotel downtown and a formal party after that, and even Harrison is getting in on the excitement. Martha grinned.
"Of course Harrison is excited! He's been waiting for this day for years! The both of us have been here since before you were thought of, Miss, and I for one know that Harrison thinks of you as the daughter he never had." Michaela blushed.
"That's sweet, Martha," she said warmly.
"Michaela!" came Rebecca's singsong voice from the other room. Michaela sighed. She loved her sisters dearly, but enough was enough! They hadn't stopped chattering on since they'd arrived and found out the happy news.
"Take the back hallway, Miss. I'll tell them you stepped out for a breath of fresh air."
"I don't want you to lie for me, Martha."
"Who's lying? I haven't seen anyone come through here." She winked, and Michaela gave her a grateful smile. She rushed toward the door to the pantry, pulled herself inside and opened the door in the back that was the servant's hallway. It led to the staircases in the back, and it was a safe place for Martha and Harrison to move about when certain company was over, and Mrs. Quinn wanted them to go about their chores as if they were ghosts as to not disturb anyone. It was dreadful, really. For the moment, however, it was Michaela's sanctuary. She smiled, thinking about her childhood. Martha would always sneak her into the back when Elizabeth was on a rampage, bound and determined to get her daughter to do her bidding. Michaela had found comfort in that place for so long, and it had been years since she'd stepped foot back there. Elizabeth barely knew every nook and cranny of the house, and she rarely ever stepped foot into the kitchen unless it was to hurry Martha along. Michaela only hoped her sisters, who had also shared her desire to roam through the back hall in their young childhoods, wouldn't think to look for her there.
It was now that Michaela wished she'd brought a lantern with her. With the sun just resting in the horizon, it was hard to see a thing. She jumped when she heard a noise behind her, and she paused, swallowing hard.
"Oh!" she cried out as two arms grabbed her from behind. Panic rose up inside of her, and she almost screamed. She whimpered a little as the arms pulled her close, and he immediately let her go, knowing she was scared.
"God, Michaela, I'm sorry!" Sully exclaimed. "I shoulda thought. I wasn't…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…" He was so angry with himself. After what Michaela had been through with David, he couldn't believe he hadn't stopped to think about his actions.
"Sully!" Michaela exclaimed, her breath quick and hoarse.
"Michaela," he said quietly. "I'm real sorry."
"It's fine," she whispered, gaining her composure. She peered into the darkness.
"I feel awful. I wasn't thinkin'."
"Sully, don't worry. There was no harm done. We can't skirt around what happened for the rest of our lives. I'm always going to remember it, Sully. That's something I'm going to have to accept." Sully was fidgeting with something now, and a moment later, a light dimly illuminated the hall. Michaela's eyes adjusted, and she looked up into Sully's mesmerizing azure pools. The flame flickered and danced in his eyes, and Michaela felt enchanted.
"You sure you're okay? I really didn't mean to…" Michaela shushed him by placing her hands upon his cheeks and standing on her tiptoes to give him a soft but bold kiss. Her lips lingered against his for a moment before she backed away.
"I'm sure." Suddenly realizing her surroundings, Michaela stiffened up. "Sully! What if someone catches us!" Sully placed the lantern up upon a shelf on the wall.
"They won't." Michaela bit her trembling lower lip.
"Why are you back here, anyway?"
"I'm hidin' from your pa," he said with a chuckle. "He's ready for us to get married right now. I think he's more excited than we are."
"I don't think that's possible," Michaela breathed, her cheeks blushing lightly. Sully stepped closer to her, and his hands moved to rest upon her shoulders. He felt her tremble under his touch, and the look in her eyes told him she liked it.
"Ya look beautiful tonight. Did I tell ya that?" Before she could answer, their lips came crashing together in a smoldering kiss. Their desire for one another could not be restrained, and it was so overwhelming how a simple look or touch could overpower their senses, sending them into fits of mad, wonderful, needful passion.
They melted into one another's arms, and Michaela felt herself being pushed against the wall, and Sully's hands roamed down her back and rested on her waist. Michaela felt much more comfortable and relaxed now that she was out of that awful corset, but she felt her body responding to Sully's touch, and she was beginning to grow anxious as she felt the need for more of him.
"Sully," she moaned as his lips moved toward her neck. He kissed her collarbone through the fabric of her dress, and she felt her body responding. Her hands ran along his covered chest, and she wanted to feel his flesh against her hand. Her cheeks blushed as her hands opened a few buttons and slide inside to caress his masculine chest. He chuckled against her hair before their lips met again. Michaela's knees buckled under her, and Sully caught her, picking her up into his arms. Her arms secured themselves around his neck as their kiss deepened.
The opening of a door startled them both, and poor Martha stood wide-eyed with a lantern in her hands.
"Oh! Miss…I…I…I…I'm terribly sorry!"
"No, Martha, it's all right. We were…" Michaela felt her cheeks growing redder by the second. Sully let go of Michaela, and they gave one another some distance.
"Miss…Dr…"
"Martha," Michaela breathed, letting her own embarrassment step aside for the sake of this apparent emergency.
"Mr. Johnson is here, and he needs you right away. Your father would go, but he's feeling tired…"
"I'll go," Michaela assured Martha. "Thank you." Michaela gave Sully a glance, and he reached out to squeeze her hand before she started off. Sully glanced at Martha who had a bashful look in her eyes.
"What we just…"
"I didn't see a thing, Sir," she assured him. "Mr. Josef will be coming for you in your room soon. I suggest you sneak up the back before he wonders where you've gone off to." Sully gave her a thankful nod before he hurried off, and Martha placed her hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. She cared too much for Michaela to ever tell on her. The girl was like a daughter to her, and she was so very happy for her. Though, on the other hand, if Elizabeth ever found out, Martha would certainly pay to see the look upon her face!
Matthew, Brian and Colleen stood outside of the homestead after the sun set. Matthew had ridden a long way to find Dr. Burgess, and the man was now in with Charlotte. Brian didn't quite know what was going on, but he could tell by the grim looks upon his brother and sister's faces that something was wrong.
"Is Ma gonna die?" he asked.
"Don't ever say that, Brian!" Colleen snapped. Brian looked down, feeling guilty immediately.
"Colleen, don't yell at him. He don't know no better."
"Well, he oughta. Ma's fine. The baby's gonna be fine. Dr. Burgess is gonna help her. You'll see." Colleen moved toward the window when she heard Charlotte cry out in pain. The pain had gone away, but it had come back shortly before Matthew arrived with Dr. Burgess. She felt horrible and wished there was something she could do to take her mother's pain away. She knew that her mother always sat with her all night when she was sick or hurting. She wished she could do the same right now. All she could do was pray. Pray and hope.
"I really want a baby brother," Brian said softly, looking down at scuffing his boot in the dirt. Matthew knelt in front of his little brother and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Someday, Brian. Someday you'll have a little brother, and you'll be a real good big brother. See, I got the best little brother in the world right now, and I like to think I'm a good big brother." Brian grinned, and Matthew picked the boy up and let him sit on his shoulders. Brian grabbed Matthew's hat and placed it atop his head. Colleen couldn't help but smile at her brothers. She was grateful that Matthew knew how to take charge even in the toughest of situations.
"Where's Pa when we need 'im?" Colleen asked under her breath. Her trust in her father was fleeting, and she knew not to count on him to be there when she needed him. But couldn't he at least be there this once? Charlotte needed him.
The door opened, and Matthew put Brian down. Dr. Burgess stepped out, placing his hat upon his bald head.
"Why don't you send the young ones in to sit with your mother?" he asked Matthew.
"I'm stayin'," Colleen said, folding her arms across her chest.
"Let her stay. Ma'd want her to."
"Very well. At least send the boy in." Matthew patted Brian on the shoulder.
"Go on in, Brian. Sit with Ma." Brian started to take the hat off, but Matthew ushered him into the house. When Brian was securely inside, Matthew turned back to the doctor. "What's goin' on?"
"Your mother is very weak," he started off.
"We know that," Colleen sassed. "Pa's off lookin' for better work. He's left Matthew in charge of everythin', but Ma's been workin' too."
"No more of that, I'm afraid," he said grimly. "Your mother had a difficult pregnancy and delivery with the last child, did she not?" Matthew nodded.
"She did. They both coulda died."
"I'm afraid there is some residual scarring left from the difficult labor and birth your mother endured. She'll have to be cut open with this delivery." Matthew glanced at Colleen, and she shivered. She'd witnessed a Caesarean Section once, and she would never forget the sight or the fact that the mother and baby both died. Charlotte had never performed one, but the baby was stuck in the birth canal, and she'd felt that there was no other choice but to cut the poor thing out. Colleen had seen it on the farm before, and it seemed to be more gruesome-looking when humans were involved. "The pregnancy is a very big risk to your mother's health. I fear that if the pregnancy does go on without any complication, it'll be too much. The delivery alone would kill her if she wasn't in a doctor's care. The risk of death with this procedure is still fairly high in your mother's case.
Colleen didn't want to hear anymore. She'd heard enough. She rushed into the house, afraid of the rest of the doctor's words.
"You're sayin' Ma's gonna die?"
"I'm saying she's lucky to have made it this far in the pregnancy. The pains she has been having will continue if she doesn't get her proper rest. She needs to stay in bed for a few weeks, perhaps a month. I'll check on her when I can. If this baby does come early, there won't be much I can do. I'm sorry son. Just be with her. Pray with her every day. I've seen women come out of this perfectly healthy with healthy babies, but you should prepare for the worst."
"Does she know?" Matthew asked, swallowing hard. The doctor nodded.
"She knows. She insisted that she was going to see this pregnancy through. She's determined to bring that child into the world."
"It's my ma, Dr. Burgess. She says she's gonna do it, she's gonna do it." Matthew watched as the doctor climbed into his carriage, slapped the reins and took off into the night. He stood in the silence as the dust swirled up behind the carriage, and he waited until all that was left was the blank nothingness of the night. Soon, he turned around and walked into the house, knowing that he needed to be with his family now more than ever. But one thing was missing. Ethan wasn't there. Matthew wasn't sure if he ever would be again.
Tired Colorado Springs was winding down, and even though most folks were home in bed, the prominent citizens were closing their shops and gathering for coffee at Grace's. Robert E. was seated next to his wife, and the storekeeper, Mr. Bray, sat with his daughter and her new husband Martin. Reverend Johnson was reading over a telegram that Horace had just brought over, and the telegraph operator was sitting next to Jake and the bartender Hank.
"So who's it from?" Grace asked eagerly. The town was desperate for a doctor, and Horace had shot out of the office as soon as he'd received the message that his nephew had penned out for him a couple of hours before. Horace was clearly happy, and they knew it had to be news about the need for a doctor.
"Well, it is a reply," Timothy said quietly, scratching his bearded chin.
"Well, who's it from already!" Loren grumbled.
"Papa," Abagail said softly. "Don't upset yourself."
"I'm fine, Abby. I ain't hurtin' anymore. I healed a long while back."
"Maybe if you two'd stop yappin', the Rev could tell us who it's from," Hank drawled out, taking a puff off of his cigar. Everybody glanced at Hank, and Timothy cleared his throat.
"As you all know, we haven't had any other replies, and this one comes from Boston," he explained. "We're getting more people coming into town everyday, and with the train only a year or so away, we're going to need a doctor."
"Get on with it," Jake urged. Grace raised an eyebrow at the barber.
"Patience is a virtue," she warned. Hank snickered, and Loren kicked him under the table.
"What the Hell was that for, old man?"
"Will the lot of ya just pipe down?" Robert E. asked. "Reverend is tryin' to talk." Everyone was silent, and Robert E. turned his attention back to the man of the cloth.
"Thank you, Robert E," Timothy said gratefully. "As I said, we are in need. Now, I know things are changin' in the rest of the country, and some…well, some people are doing things that we wouldn't expect." Loren grabbed the piece of paper from Timothy and began to read.
"To the Reverend Timothy Johnson of Colorado Springs…" He mumbled the rest until he got to the name. "Dr. Michaela Quinn." His eyes lit up. Abagail grinned knowingly, and she squeezed Martin's hand.
"Michaela? Ya mean Michael, right?" Jake asked.
"No, no! I know this lady," Loren insisted.
"How?" Hank asked, narrowing his eyes. "Don't tell me ya met her when ya was off in Boston."
"As a matter of fact," Abagail said quietly, "she saved Papa's life."
"She was the woman who sewed ya up?" Jake asked with disbelief.
"She did a real fine job at it too." Jake and Hank snickered. "C'mon, fellas, I didn't think it was right at first, but she's a real nice lady, and she saved my life. I trust her more than some of them quacks in Denver." He folded his arms across his chest.
"I say we keep on lookin'," Hank replied.
"What do you care?" Robert E. wondered. "Ya always go to Jake for your stitchin' up anyway."
"Well, Jake left a nasty scar on me last time, so I figure I'd rather pay somebody who knows what he's doin'." He looked at Jake. "No offense." He took another puff on his cigar and smirked. "Ain't no way I'm lettin' no woman sew me up. Only three things a woman's good for. Cookin', cleanin' and…"
"Hank," Timothy warned. Hank smirked again and stood up.
"Let's call a meetin' of the Town Council tomorrow," Jake offered. "We'll vote then."
"That's a splendid idea," Timothy replied. "Everyone go home and get some sleep." He took off, and Loren shook his head.
"She's really as good as ya say?" Grace asked.
"Better! Ain't I right, Abby?"
"Yeah," she insisted. Martin stood and took Abagail's hand. "'Nite, Papa." She kissed Loren upon the cheek and walked off with her husband. Soon, the rest of the group left, and the decision of whether to hire Michaela Quinn was left up in the air like the smoke from Hank's cigar.
Sully and Michaela rushed up the steps of a small town house, and the door opened wide. Lydia's heavily pregnant cousin Gertrude stood in her robe.
"I'd have had my husband look at her, but he's working late," she explained. "She hasn't woken yet." Gertrude looked truly upset, though Albert was a little bitter. He heard about how hard Lydia had been working there. Sure, Gertrude was pregnant and everything, but they could have afforded to get a maid instead of hiring family to work for measly pay and a tiny room to sleep in at night.
"She's in her room," Albert instructed, pointing Michaela to the room he'd taken Lydia too. Michaela went in alone, closing Sully, Gertrude and Albert out into the hallway. She moved toward the bed, seeing the young woman starting to come to. She knew her. The woman looked very familiar. Lydia, Albert had said. Lydia? That was the name of a nurse who had worked at the hospital up until around the time David was released from his position.
"Lydia?" Michaela asked softly, stepping toward the bedside. Lydia blinked a couple of times and put her hand to her forehead. She started to sit up, but Michaela placed her hand upon her shoulder. "No, no. Lie back. You've been unconscious for a little while."
"Dr. Quinn?"
"Yes," Michaela said with a smile.
"I used to work with Dr. Lewis," Lydia explained.
"Yes, I remember," Michaela said, slightly shuddering at the mention of David's name. Michaela began to check Lydia's vitals. "Have you had these spells frequently?"
"No, no. This is the second I've had this week. I've been doing extra chores for my cousin. She's due to have her first baby anytime, you see."
"Yes, I saw," Michaela replied with a smile. "Has anything like this ever happened before?"
"Well, no," Lydia said, wrinkling her brow. "Is something the matter?"
"I'd like to examine you."
"Examine me? What for!" Lydia wondered.
"I need to make sure you're healthy. I can't leave until I've given you a clean bill of health." Lydia sighed and nodded.
"I'm fine. I promise, doctor. I only worked too much today."
"Perhaps you should take a week or so off."
"I couldn't do that. Gertrude needs me."
"Well, you won't be helping her much if you're constantly tiring yourself, Lydia. You mustn't work yourself so hard." Lydia smiled a little. "May I examine you?" The woman nodded, and Michaela smiled. "I'm sure everything is just fine. Perhaps it's just as you said. Perhaps you have been working too hard." The look in her eyes told Lydia differently. Suddenly, Lydia knew. She didn't need to hear it. "Just lie back, and it'll all be over before you know it."