Chapter Fifteen
Albert left the clinic early the next morning. It was Sunday, and he wanted to meet Lydia before church. He hadn't gotten the chance to speak with her the night before, because he'd lost his nerve when he saw the lights go out and Grace and Robert E.'s house become still. He'd retired back to the clinic and hadn't slept a wink. He knew for sure that Lydia woke at six thirty every Sunday morning to get ready for church. Robert E. chopped wood at six forty five, and Grace started cooking breakfast at seven. It was seven thirty, and church started in a half hour. He knew she always started toward the church at seven thirty five to mingle with the townspeople.
Sure enough, at seven thirty five, Lydia left Grace and Robert E.'s wearing a beautiful rose colored dress and a dark shawl. He started to walk toward her, taking the hat from his head. She noticed him and turned in the other direction.
"Lydia!"
"Go away, Albert," she said, fussing with her money purse as Albert jogged to keep up with her. She moved fast for a pregnant woman!
"I'm not going away. I'm your husband, and I want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk to you," she replied, turning in the opposite direction of the church.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to the Farnsworth house," she replied. "Mrs. Farnsworth is ill, and I promised to look in on her and read to her from the Bible. I spoke with Reverend Johnson, and he understands."
"At least let me give you a ride out there. You can't walk all that way in your condition."
"Of course I can't," she laughed. "Mr. Farnsworth is picking me up." Albert sighed with frustration.
"Aren't we ever going to talk about this?"
"What's left to talk about, Albert? You didn't tell me a very important thing about your past. You didn't mention ever being in such a relationship, and then when your ex-wife shows up, it all comes out. I'm sorry, Albert, but you can't expect me to get over it that quickly."
"Of course not, but I do expect us to be adult about this and not act like children! We're supposed to face our problems through sickness and in hell."
"We're not sick, Albert."
"But this is Hell for me." Lydia stopped and turned to face him. She knew he was telling the truth, and she almost felt guilty for making him suffer like this, but she was still upset and rightly so!
"It's not exactly amusing for me either, Albert. You hurt me, don't you realize that?" Tears sparkled in her eyes, making the gray shimmer blue in the sun. She let out a sigh, and her breath clouded in the cool air. "I have to go, Albert." She turned again, and Albert reached out and took her hand. She froze, but she didn't pull away.
"I know I was wrong. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'd do anything to make up for it all. Please don't shut me out, Lydia, because I'm a better man with you in my life. Please, Lydia. Please talk to me." He watched the tears slip down her face, and she bit her trembling lower lip.
"I trusted you, Albert. I may be a fool, but I still do. We've been through so much, and I don't want to let this tear us apart."
"Then don't. Don't." He pulled her close, and she was still rigid, her hands resting on his chest. She tried to fight him, but her love for him took over for a moment. They pulled one another into a soft kiss, one that made them both want to cry for joy. But, when Lydia realized what was happening, she pulled back.
"I can't, Albert. It's too soon."
"We're married. It's not…"
"I know. I mean, I'm not ready yet. She's going to be around for a while, and every time I see her, I think of you being the way you are with me…with her. It hurts too much."
"It wasn't this way with her," Albert whispered, pulling her close again. "She didn't make my heart pound the way you do. She didn't pretend to laugh at all of my silly jokes. I loved her, but I loved her in a different way than I love you. I love you for your eyes, your smile, your heart and your mind. I love the way you laugh, the way you cry, the way you sigh when you don't even know it. You're beautiful, sweetheart, inside and out." Lydia was crying now.
"You can't just expect…expect me to forgive you for…for that."
"I don't. Hate me if you want, but that's not going to stop the way I feel about you." Hearing that broke Lydia's heart, and she knew then that this wasn't going to be something that she would let ruin her marriage to the man she loved more than anyone in the world.
"I don't hate you," she said softly, shaking her head, as he pulled her close again. She rested her forehead against his, and she saw the tears in his eyes. "You accepted me when you knew my past. I can do the same. No more secrets?"
"No more secrets," he swore. "I'll always be honest."
"So will I," she whispered. He held her so close that when the baby kicked, he felt it too. They both laughed together, and they wrapped their arms around one another to shield out the cold September morning. Their lips met again, and though the hurt wasn't forgotten, it was starting to heal. Things were going to get better now. They had to.
Michaela woke to the whimpers of her young daughter, and she slowly opened her eyes, peering into the dim light inside of the teepee. Sully was stoking the small fire, and Katie was squirming in her fur blanket. She sat up, and she peered across the flames at her husband.
"Mornin'," he greeted her. She smiled, her cheeks flushing. She was warm, and she threw the buckskin blanket off of her, and she realized she was still naked. She panicked for a moment, her mind still fuzzy, wondering how she got from the sweat lodge to here, but then she remembered retiring to the teepee in the middle of the night and making love with Sully until dawn. They hadn't slept much, but they both felt relaxed and rested.
Michaela looked at Katie and pulled her into her arms.
"Snow Bird brought her in a few minutes ago. Said she was missin' her ma." Michaela smiled and snuggled the baby close to her. Katie yawned and opened her eyes, blinking for a few minutes before going back to sleep.
"Has she eaten?"
"Yep," Sully replied. "She's been changed too." Michaela placed her down between herself and Sully as Sully lay back, pulling the fur blankets over them. He took one of Katie's hands, and Michaela took the other, then they stared at one another over their little girl. Something was different in Michaela's eyes, and when she smiled, he knew what it was. The ritual had worked. She no longer carried the weight of the past on her shoulders, and she was breathing easier. "What was it like? Your experience, I mean." Michaela sighed softly and gently brushed her finger along Katie's cheek.
"It was like nothing I've ever felt before," she replied quietly. "You were there, holding me. David was there, and he went away. Something was so sad in his eyes. He could see clearly, Sully. He could see clearly, and I know it, because there was something right inside of him; something still good that wasn't completely rotted away. I don't know what it was, but I think it's what my heart wants me to believe." Sully nodded and softly caressed her shoulder. "Charlotte was there. She said we did the right thing."
"I knew we did," he breathed. He leaned over Katie to softly kiss Michaela upon the forehead.
"Anna was there…" Her eyes met his, and he propped his head up on his hand.
"Anna?"
"Our baby. She was…she was there. She had your hair and my eyes, Sully." A grin spilled over his face, and he gently bit his bottom lip.
"Bet she was the spittin' image of ya." Michaela smiled a little.
"She was beautiful. She said our little boy is safe, and he'll be healthy."
"Did she?" She nodded.
"I believe her."
"So do I." Katie opened her eyes again, and she grunted, her little face turning red, and she began to cry. Sully sat up and pulled her against his bare chest. Her head rested on his shoulder, and he smiled as he patted her back.
"You're so wonderful with her, Sully." She placed her hand upon her belly. "I know it won't be any different the second time around." Michaela sat up a little, and she looked around. "What time is it?"
"Probably nearin' eight."
"We're going to miss church!" she exclaimed. He raised an eyebrow.
"Dr. Bernard wants ya to rest. Don't fret, Michaela. I'll talk to the Reverend." Michaela let out a soft sight. She wasn't going to let anything bother her right now. She was feeling good, and she was enjoying her family. For now, everything else could wait.
"Soon," he breathed as he warmed his hands by the fire in his hotel room. He ripped his patch off and threw it into the crackling, sputtering flames. He watched it burn and char with the firewood, and he saw her face in the flames. No, not Michaela. Julianna. Her eyes were staring into his, and he couldn't stop looking into the bright light. For a few moments, his bad eye was good, and he could see everything perfectly clearly.
He opened up his journal, and the orange glow of the fire danced along the pages.
Julianna Garavaldi. The name rings through my ears, and it's almost familiar. I know who she is, but only part of myself is wise to who she is. I've read my entries in other scripts and moods, and I don't recall having written them. But I read about her. Part of me is infatuated and in love. Part of me desires her the way I desire Michaela. She challenges me, and she is intriguing. I can feel it, but she doesn't really know who I am. She fills my dreams at night, and sometimes she's a stranger. Sometimes I've known her all my life. My head is filled with thoughts that I don't understand, but I want to. What is it about Julianna that drives me mad with desire, when my heart belongs to Michaela?
He threw his journal to the side and stood up. He slowly walked over to the mirror on the wall. The glass was set in a patiently carved wooden frame with intricate designs that could make one's mind spin. It reminded him of a nightmare he once had, where shapeless forms came for him in the dark of night and carried him back to the closet he had been locked in; back to the beatings and the other forms of abuse.
"You don't know what love is, David," he said as he looked into the mirror. "You're pathetic. You're not even a good doctor. I told you that years ago."
"I love Michaela," he answered. "She understands that."
"You love her in the way you tried to defile her?"
"I tried to make her see," David said, banging his fists on the wall beside the mirror.
"Look at yourself, David. You're in no shape to love anyone. Julianna will see right through that. She cares for me."
"She can't. You're in my mind. She can't see you."
"But she will. I can love her. I'd never hurt her. You're damaged, David. You don't know how to love."
"I can learn. They never showed me love. They only showed me their sick version."
"Poor David," Andrew said quietly. "You never stood a chance."
"It's not my fault!" David screamed. "They did this!"
"You blame them for everything, David. When are you going to start taking responsibility for your own actions? You're a grown man for God's sakes! It wasn't your parents who seduced that young nurse and left her with the seed of your betrayal. It wasn't your parents who dragged that poor woman into the alley and nearly killed her just to feed the hunger that grew inside of you."
"You always wanted me to fail."
"We were friends once."
"You tried to kill me!"
"No. You did that. You tried to kill us both. I saved your life, you rejected my friendship, and then you created me in your mind."
"You're not real."
"I'm very real. I'm very, very real. You created me in yourself when you left California. Andrew Strauss is a living breathing human being. If he sees you again, he'll know who you are. Soon, there won't be a man, woman or child in the country who doesn't know who David Lewis is. They'll know you escaped. They'll know what you did. Andrew will know. He'll put you away. You can't let him do that. You have to fight for Julianna. For Michaela. Can you do that?"
"Shut up! Go away! I don't need you!" He curled his hands around his ears to try to block it out, but it was inside of him.
"You created me. You created all of them to hide your pathetic self from the world. If you want Julianna to know the real you, make me go away. She'll see right through you, David."
"No, Andrew!"
"You'll have to kill him. He'll get to Lydia. She'll get to Julianna. Michaela will know. You have to kill Andrew."
"I don't understand!" David screamed, punching his fist through the mirror, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. He collapsed against the floor, his bleeding hand curled at his side. He pulled his arms around his knees and curled in the corner, firelight dancing on the shards of glass, blinding his eye again.
"I'm not him anymore…"
"I can fight you, Andrew!"
"I'm you now. Let me be you, and you'll be happy. Julianna will love you. Michaela will love you, and then you can decide."
"I don't trust you."
"You don't trust yourself." David picked up a sharp shard of glass and held it in his bleeding hand.
"I'll cut you out."
"If you do that, you'll never prove you love her, David."
"I do love her. I'll kill you, and I'll prove it."
"If you kill me, you're dead. I am you!"
"I can control you."
"Maybe before, but I've grown stronger."
"I don't want this. I never asked for this. Make it go away!" he cried, pounding his fists into the sides of his head in frustration, the shard of glass only mere inches from his eye. "I don't want this. Go away, Andrew! Go away! I'll make it better if you go away! I'll do better! I'll make her love us! I'll make them both love us. Go away! Go away! Go away! I'll be good. I'll be good. I won't hurt them."
"Tell me to leave."
"I told you!"
"Mean it."
"I mean it! Get out of me! Leave me alone!"
"You need me, don't you?"
"No! I'll get better. I will. I want to be the man she wants me to be."
"Who?"
"Michaela."
"Are you sure?"
"Julianna…"
"Which is it?"
"I want them both."
"You can't have them both, David. They're both married."
"I hurt Michaela. She won't want me."
"You haven't hurt Julianna."
"Yet."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't want to hurt her."
"If you hurt her, they'll come after you. You must convince her to leave with you. You don't know her like I do. You need my help."
"I don't need you anymore. No more! No more!"
"Kill him. Don't hurt her."
"I won't hurt her. I won't. I won't. I won't!" He screamed out as the shard cut through the skin on his hand, and his world spun, and soon, everything was dark.
Albert walked into the clinic, happier than ever now that he was pulling his marriage back together. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Julianna coming down the stairs.
"Jules," he said with a smile. Julianna grinned.
"I know. I saw you as I was getting dressed. I'm happy for you."
"It's not going to be easy."
"No, but you love each other, and that's what counts." Albert nodded.
"Headed to church?"
"Not this week," she replied. "I'm going to go for a stroll."
"Where?"
"Does it matter?" She laughed. He was still protective of her as he had been when they'd been friends. He was more like a big brother than anything. "If you must know, I'm going to find a quiet place to sit and write."
"Can't you do that here? It's cold out there." Julianna pushed past him, rolling her eyes.
"No offense to the doctor, but this isn't exactly a very inspirational place."
"It seems like the perfect place to write a mystery about mental patients." Lydia rolled her eyes again. She didn't dare tell him that it was turning into much more. There was a hint of doomed romance in her words now. She would have a lot of revisions to do before the book was published, and she had the feeling that it wouldn't be the same book she'd started seven years ago once all was said and done.
"I'll see you later, Albert." She pulled her shawl around herself and hurried out into the cool September morning. She walked and walked until the town was as tiny as the doll houses she used to play with as a child. She found a tree stump and settled down upon it, smoothing out her skirt and opening up her book in her lap. But, she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't shake the cold feeling she felt throughout her body. No, it wasn't the weather. It was something far more mysterious that ran through her veins. She felt like somebody was watching her, but she knew it wasn't true. Somebody was thinking about her though. She knew it, and she knew who it was. He was coming, and he was going to visit his cousin. He knew she was here, but she wasn't sure if he'd want to see her. But, she wanted to see him.
She sighed heavily, shaking her head and scolding herself for being so foolish. The breeze rustled the tree leaves, and some began to fall, swirling around her as if she was in a dream.
"Andrew," she whispered, closing her eyes and letting the wind carry her off into a daydream. Her eyes flew open, and her heart began to pound. Something wasn't right. He needed her. She could feel it. He was hurting. How did she know this? She couldn't be sure, but the feeling her gut was giving her let her know that he was hurting, he needed comforting. He needed to see her. She knew she'd see him soon, and she wasn't quite sure what to expect when she did see him again.
Katie was napping in the cradle near the hearth, where a warm fire was crackling to keep the room warm. Michaela was lying in bed, her back propped up against the headboard of the intricately carved bed. She smiled as she watched her baby sleep, and she never thought something so simple could be so beautiful. She only wished her mother could see Katie. Mother! She realized that she hadn't kept up on her correspondence to Elizabeth and Josef as she had promised. She'd sent them a telegram as soon as she and Sully had safely arrived in Colorado Springs, but she hadn't written a letter since.
She sighed and pulled out a piece of paper and her nicest pen. She smiled a little, and she began to write.
Dear Mother and Father,
I hope all is well in Boston. Father, I hope to hear that the practice is going well. I know you'll be retiring soon, and I want you to know that I support you in everything that you do. You both must come to Colorado Springs. It's delightful! Pike's Peak is glorious in the mornings, and I only hope to climb up to the top someday.
Sully and I are well. We've fully recovered from the train accident, and Sully's scar is completely covered by his hair now. We've been through a few rough events, but I think it has made us stronger. We have a lot of news. I found out during my stay in Denver that I was pregnant, but unfortunately, I miscarried. I thought that was the end, but I never quite felt like I wasn't pregnant. I found out later that I'm indeed still pregnant, and that God has given us the miracle of a twin that was strong enough to hold on. I'm certain that it's going to be a boy. The baby is due in March!
Oh, I've met so many wonderful people. Grace runs the café, and Robert E. is the blacksmith. They're both sweet people, and I'm sure that they would do anything to help a person out, even if it put them out as well. Grace and I are already becoming fast friends. I'm still getting to know some of the people in town, though it seems that Lydia and Albert have already become accepted.
I haven't had any patients yet, but I'm supposed to be resting for a while, which I am doing as I write. Sully is doting on my every need, not wanting me to trouble myself. He's so charming and sweet, and I'm lucky to have him in my life. He's going to be a great father, and I can tell by the way he is with Katie. I told you about the little girl we took in after her mother passed away in Denver. By the end of the month, we should be signing the adoption papers. You'll have to meet her soon. She's an incredible child! I know it's impossible, but I think she has my smile!
The Reverend Johnson stopped by a few minutes ago to drop off a basket of Grace's finest cooking. I hadn't realized how famished I was until I ate, and now I feel like I could eat again! Sully's downstairs making tea for me.
Michaela sighed. Food wasn't the only thing Reverend Johnson had brought with him. He'd brought telling news that Julianna Garavaldi was indeed Albert's ex-wife, but there was no way Michaela would divulge that information in such a letter.
I'm feeling very tired now, so I will make my letter brief. Tell Marjorie and Rebecca I miss them, and for what good it may do, give my love to Maureen and Claudette.
Your loving daughter,
Michaela
Michaela folded up her correspondence and placed it aside. She smiled when Sully walked in with a cup of tea in his hands. He handed it to her, and she accepted it gratefully.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"How ya feelin'?"
"Like I could take one of the horses out for a very long ride," she said, breathing in the steam from the tea, reminiscing about the glorious time she and Sully had had the night before and early that morning. Sully raised his eyebrow. "I know, Sully. I won't do such a thing until after the baby comes." She grinned and touched his cheek. "I can't believe our baby is with us right now, safe and warm inside of me." Sully's hand moved up Michaela's leg, over her knee, up her thigh and under her gown to place his hand against her bare stomach. Michaela smiled a little and leaned back, taking a sip of tea and placing the cup on the nightstand.
"Six months from now, we sure are gonna be busy." Michaela nodded.
"Are you ready for it?"
"I don't think we'll ever be ready for it, but that's part of life, ain't it?" Michaela nodded.
"That's very true. I can't wait to see what he looks like," she whispered. "I know it sounds silly calling this child a he, when there is no way we can possibly know. But what she said…it's true, Sully. I know it is."
"I know," he replied. "And, it ain't silly." His lips curled into a grin. "Got any names in mind?"
"I wanted to name our first son after my father," she said quietly, "and your father. I'd like to name him after you, but I know how you feel about your name."
"So it's gonna either be Jonathan Josef Sully or Josef Jonathan Sully?" he asked. Michaela grimaced a little. "Nah. It don't sound like a son of ours."
"Perhaps another name."
"What do ya have in mind?"
"Well, what if…" She smiled a little. "What about a fourth name?"
"Can ya do that?"
"It's been done," Michaela replied.
"Well, what would ya like it to be?"
"Just listen to it. You don't have to agree, but…" She shook her head.
"What is it? Ya can tell me."
"No. Perhaps we should wait until it gets closer to time." He gave her a look.
"Michaela? What name?"
"Elijah," she responded quietly. Sully considered the name.
"I don't mind it. Just gotta think 'bout what's best for the baby. Ya think our boy would like to be called Eli or Elijah Sully when he's grown up?"
"It sounds sophisticated. Perhaps he'll be a doctor or a lawyer, or…President of the United States." Sully chuckled and beamed at his wife's excitement.
"We got lots of time to pick a name, Michaela, but anything you're happy with, I think I'll be happy with too." He pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She surrendered to his touch, and they lay back into the bed together, holding one another. They were both feeling the effects of their lack of sleep, and Michaela yawned. Sully chuckled, and he kissed a line from her chin to her ear, and he finally gave her another kiss upon the lips. "Ya better rest."
"So should you," Michaela replied. "Hold me?" Sully grinned and pulled her close. She rested her head upon his chest, her arms curling around his neck.
"Always."