January 1867

The winter was cold and biting, and I quickly learned how to keep the woodstove full and burning all night, and on those frigid nights, I curled up on the floor of the back room, pitiful and shivering, but it was much better than listening to my mother scream for Harrison to keep her fire stoked all night. That poor butler certainly got his daily workout in his old age. He was up and down those stairs at least six times a night after Father passed on.

I didn't see much of Sully, though I often saw Loren strolling with Dorothy and the twins. There was such a distance between Loren and his sister-in-law, but at the same time, an undeniable closeness gave them the look of being happy and content just the way their lives were going.

Sometimes I saw the Cooper family on days other than Sundays. It was then that I realized that Sully didn't attend church, though he let Loren take the twins, because Abagail would have wanted it that way. It seemed that a lot of the things these two did was on behalf of what Sully's wife would have wanted. I'd heard that Loren's guilt for turning his back on Abagail's marriage to Sully's prompted him to be a good grandfather and think about what Abagail would have wanted, while at the same time respecting what Sully wanted for the children, because Abagail had loved him too.

While I was learning more and more about the people who surrounded me, my patients came few and far between, and the barkeeper across the street continued to make up his little nicknames for me, including "doc," though he really loved to call me Michaela and make my skin crawl. The sad thing was that he could be kind when he wanted to be. I had seen him tip his hat to Dorothy one day. Why couldn't he be kind all of the time? I supposed that that just wasn't Hank. Kind wasn't in his vocabulary.

Throughout the first month of the new year, I acquired a horse and learned how to ride quickly on my own, and I tried to meet new patients out of town, though it was hard to trudge through the snow. There were some people in need of a doctor, though they could only pay me with chickens or week-old hams. But, I couldn't give up. Winter was a harsh month, and everyone was low on money. I had my own money, but it was tucked away in case of emergencies. I was thankful that Father had raised me with enough sense to know when to save and when to spend.

It was the middle of the month when I finally saw Sully again. He was picking the children up from Loren's, and I finally had the courage to ask him what he did all day. He was kind, and I invited him in. I thought that perhaps he wouldn't want to come into the place where his wife died, but he was grateful, and he accepted my offer of a hot cup of coffee, while the children played together on the floor. He smiled proudly at them, but his eyes turned to me, and I felt my entire body become warm, as I poured him a hot cup. It was then that he began to explain how he went to the Cheyenne reservation and helped his family find food through the tough winter months.

Much to my surprise, we talked and talked about various things, and I even took the chance to tell him about David, since he had told me about Abagail. He hadn't talked much about her, but I felt that if he could tell me even a little about the wife he lost, I could tell him about the fiancé that I lost too. I thought that if a man who had loved this woman, created children with her and lost her in such a short period of time could talk about her, I could certainly talk about a man that I was merely engaged to. And, by the end of that conversation, I felt better...almost resolved.

Before we knew it, two hours had gone by, and the children were lying on the floor next to wolf. Sully apologized for drinking half of my pot of coffee, but I assured him that I didn't mind the company, and I couldn't have drunk it all by myself anyway. When he left, Hank's eyes were on us, and I saw a smirk crawl across his lips. A few of the men next to him made a few suggestive whistles, but I ignored it. Sully and I barely knew each other. How dare they make such presumptions about us?

But, I was quickly beginning to learn that a lot of the men in Colorado Springs didn't know a thing about propriety, and they were assuming preposterous things based on their own experiences and thoughts. Sully was a gentleman, at least, and I realized that he didn't care for the way those men carried on either.

My nights had previously been full of thoughts of David and the future we would have had together, but I soon came to realize that Sully was creeping into my dreams, stealing my thoughts away from David from time to time. I felt guilty, because David had been the one I had promised myself too. How could I be thinking of another man, while the one I was going to vow to love for better or worse was dead?

I tried to force myself to dream of David, but it wasn't long before I realized that it wasn't fair to myself or his memory to do such things, and I surrendered to the dreams that my subconscious brought to me, and I tried not to flush whenever Sully came around. After our two-hour talk, I noticed him coming around town much more frequently.

February 1867

On my twenty-seventh birthday, I curled up by the wood stove, lit a couple of lanterns and began to write in my journal about all of my experiences since I had arrived on the soil of the Colorado Territory. I hadn't written in it since shortly after my father died, and that seemed like so long ago to me. I hadn't told anyone of my birthday, and I was content to spend it alone, though thoughts of David entered my mind, making me miss the way if felt for him to hold me in his arms. He had been so tender, so loving, and my heart ached, missing the way he told me he loved me. My lips tingled, thinking of our first kiss.

I was surprised when a knock came to my door. A patient? At this hour? I looked at the clock, and it was nearing nine o'clock. But, I pulled my shawl around my shoulders and hurried out of the back room and toward the front entrance. I was shocked, when I saw Sully standing there with the children wrapped up in his arms. Our eyes met, and I ushered him in out of the blizzard. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that Adam had a fever. I saw the boy's very rosy cheeks, and I frowned, pulling him into my arms as if he was my own son. Sully put Hanna down, and he hurried about, lighting oil lamps so I could see.

For two tireless hours, I worked to bring young Adam's fever down, and Hanna fussed the entire time, though Sully tried desperately to console her. Thankfully, Adam pulled through, and he was feeling better in no time. However, the blizzard outside prevented Sully from going anywhere, so I assured him he could stay upstairs in one of the empty rooms with the children. I carried Adam into the back room, so he could sit near the stove to get a little warmer. Sully carried Hanna in, and he saw my journal near a lamp. I quickly moved to close it, and I poured a glass of milk for each of the children, trying not to think about anything in particular.

As the children drank, my eyes avoided his, because every time I stared into his eyes, my heart skipped a beat, and I really didn't think I could take much more of it on this night. My hands fumbled with my journal, and it dropped to the floor. He bent down to pick it up for me, and as luck would have it, it was turned to today's page, the page I had announced my birthday on. He smiled, and I flushed, and I turned toward the fire to make him think I was merely red from the warmth of the stove.

He wished me a happy birthday, and with great courage, I turned to face him. I thanked him quietly, and little Hanna spilled her milk. I was grateful for the distraction. Even though it took both of us to clean up the mess in a very small amount of time, I was sure that Sully had forgotten about my birthday. But it wasn't long before he asked me if I always curl up with my journal on my birthday, and I merely responded with a weak statement along the lines of "only sometimes." After a little while, my stomach stopped twisting itself into knots, and I was able to have a normal conversation with Sully, though the children kept interrupting wanting Sully to tell them stories.

Eventually, Sully and the children went up to bed, and I stayed up a little while longer to write in my journal. By the time midnight rolled around, I was retiring to another of the rooms to get a good night's sleep. Though, I found it more difficult than usual. With him sleeping in the next room, I couldn't help but think of him and wonder if he was thinking of me too. Then I decided that it was absurd. His wife had died a year ago. He couldn't possibly have been thinking about me.

I woke the next morning to the sound of laughter downstairs, and I quickly dressed. When I arrived downstairs, Sully was sitting with the children, and breakfast was on the stove. I was shocked, but I didn't question it, because I hadn't had a good home-cooked breakfast in a long time. He explained that the snow was so deep that it might be another day before they could get out. I couldn't help but feel a little grateful that I wasn't alone for this, and I happily accepted a breakfast plate, as Hanna and Adam played with their own food.

We ate in silence, and I made note of how well Adam was looking. Sully explained that the boy seemed to bounce back quickly after being ill, and I was happy. I loved listening to Sully talk anyway. His voice seemed to speak right to my soul. It was deep and rich and full of so much knowledge of nature and life, yet couldn't have been much older than me, if he was older than me at all. I found myself feeling envious of him.

Hanna spilled her milk again, and Sully and I couldn't help but laugh. I immediately took the girl to get cleaned up without even thinking, and she grinned, pointing at me and saying something that sounded like "ma." I only hoped that Sully hadn't heard, and when I heard him laugh with Adam in the other room, I breathed a sigh of relief.

The rest of the day went on with games for the children's amusement, and Sully kept an eye on the window. Nothing was going on. It was practically a ghost town, filled to the brim with snow. Sully asked me if I had plenty of food, and I promised that I had enough for at least two weeks. I was surprised when he seemed relieved about that. Maybe it would be longer than a day, and I felt selfish for actually looking forward to spending time alone with Sully and his beautiful children.

Sometimes I could feel him looking at me, but my head told me that it was impossible. He was still grieving, and I was supposed to be loyal to David. But, my heart told me that David was dead, and it was time to move on. Sully would move on too, and we could help one another. My stomach was feeling the brunt of the battle, and I felt ill, because I was nervous and afraid at the same time.

The children napped periodically, and Sully and I talked about many different things, as usual. He told me about Cloud Dancing, the Cheyenne medicine man, and he expressed a wish for me to meet him. I was intrigued, and the more I learned about the Cheyenne people, the more I wanted to meet them and discover them for myself.

We only ended up being trapped in the clinic together for another day, but it was an amazing experience. Sully and I learned so much about one another, and I even got him to laugh and play along when I sang songs with the children. For a little while, I had the family I had decided I wanted. I knew he wouldn't say it, but it had started to feel like a family to him too. We smiled at one another over little things, and we had adapted to our temporary situation. It felt comfortable, and I think that scared us both. Part of me was ready, and another part was not. I still didn't know if he was.

A week later, the blizzard snow had almost melted away, and I was busy with a few patients who had caught chills during the storm. There were no major cases, but I was grateful for their attempts to make me feel like I still had a career.

June 1867

I was absolutely amazed at how quickly things had changed. I had enough patients to make an appointment book, and I had created several strong friendships with Charlotte Cooper, Dorothy Jennings and Grace Smith. Her husband, Robert E. was also very dear to me. Loren Bray was beginning to get used to my presence, and he didn't scowl every time I spoke up at a town council meeting. Yes, I was a member now, because the town charter said that if there was a town doctor, they must be a member of the council in case of a medical crisis or epidemic. Of course, Hank and Mr. Slicker weren't too happy about the decision, but the charter never specified the sex of the doctor, though they made the argument that women weren't supposed to be doctors. Anyway, I became a member of the council, and the women came to me with their opinions, since the men wouldn't listen to them. It was up to me to make the men see, and that was a big job for one woman, but I managed.

Sully was almost a constant figure at my tiny dinner table in the back of the clinic. He and the children visited regularly, though I think they were all lonely for company. I was just as lonely, and I think Sully knew that, but we never spoke about it. After all, it wasn't proper.

On one particularly warm evening, I was sweeping the dust off of the porch, when the children came rushing up, running around my skirt and tackling my legs. I was caught off guard, but Hanna's squeals made me smile, and I scooped them both up into my arms. Sully came walking up, Wolf at his heels, and he asked me if I wanted to do something different for dinner. Different? It was then that he invited me for supper at his homestead. Then, I realized that I had never been to his home before. I wanted to go, but I had never gotten the chance between caring for my patients and visiting the reservation to treat those who could not be saved by Cheyenne medicine.

So, I accepted his invitation, and we walked to his wagon, where he helped me into the front, handed me the children and climbed up beside me. Wolf leapt into the back of the wagon, and we drove off. I could feel the town's eyes on me as we departed, and I knew what they were thinking. We looked the part of a family. We were comfortable together, and we were friendly. My own feelings for Sully grew by the day, it seemed, and my love for David still remained a large part of myself, but he was the past. I had to move on. I only hoped that the townspeople could keep their noses out of my business long enough for me to figure out what I wanted.

When we arrived, I saw a small, humble homestead that stood next to a barn. Several wooden carvings were lined up on the porch, and Adam squealed when he saw them. Sully helped us down, and Adam rushed to play with his toys. Sully explained how Adam liked them so much, so he kept making them. He had an entire trunk full in the barn. I was amazed, and I sat out on the porch with the children, while Sully went in to prepare a chicken. I was still amazed. The home looked well kept, and he did all of the cooking. He wasn't like most men I had met, and he had become quite a wonderful homemaker. Of course, I would never tell him that. I knew he had his pride, and being called a homemaker probably wasn't the first thing he wanted to hear.

Dinner was quiet, though the children made a mess of themselves. I helped him clean up both the table and the children, and by the time it was time to go back into town, the children were tired. I offered to walk myself back, but he loaded us all into the wagon and escorted me right to the door of the clinic. He told me he appreciated my coming out, because the children loved spending time with me. I wondered if it was hesitation I sensed in his voice when he told me, but I told him it was a lovely evening, and we left it at that. Needless to say, my dreams were full that night.

Several days later, Loren came knocking at my door. I was surprised, because he hadn't stepped foot inside of that building as long as I had been in town, and I knew the reason as plain as anyone else. But, he came in that day, and he told me that he appreciated my spending time with Adam and Hanna. He was calm and quiet, and he said that his daughter would have appreciated Sully finding a lady to spend time with them. I felt uncomfortable, however, because it felt like Loren assumed that Sully and I were something other than friends. I explained to him that I enjoyed spending time with his grandchildren, and that Sully was a wonderful man, and I emphasized the fact that he was also just a wonderful friend.

I couldn't be sure, but I felt like Loren softened just a little toward Sully then. Loren then explained that the children were turning two in a week, and I couldn't believe it. It would be two years since the death of Sully's wife, and I knew it would be a bittersweet birthday celebration. He told me that he wanted me to come. I asked if Sully would be there, and Loren explained how Sully preferred to celebrate the children's birthdays at home and away from the town. It was fortunate for the children to have two parties, but it was sad that their own father didn't feel comfortable about celebrating alongside Loren. I felt that above everything else, they could have agreed to attend a party together.

Of course, I had to do something about, so I saddled up my beautiful horse, Flash, and I hurried off toward the Sully homestead. The children were napping, for which I was thankful, and Sully was working in the barn. He was surprised to see me, and I told him I had just spoken with Loren. He looked away and continued on with his chores. But, I persisted, and I told him that I thought he should go to the party for the children in town. He proceeded to tell me that it was Loren's time with them, and that he would have his own. I then responded with a very forward suggestion that he move on and stop living in the past. I felt guilty; I could tell that something stirred inside of him. He didn't speak any longer, and I told him I was sorry, but that these were precious years in his children's lives, and he needed to be there. With that, I left, not sure if he would ever speak to me again after that day. I had probably overstepped my boundaries, but I had said my part, and I only hoped that Sully would do something about it.

The day of the children's birthday party, Loren and Dorothy were setting up at the café, waiting for Sully to bring the children into town. I hoped he would stay, but I wasn't going to hold my breath. So, I helped everyone set up, and I felt even more like a part of the town. It was amazing how everyone gathered to celebrate the lives of these two little babies, but I knew that Abagail had impacted a lot of their lives before I came along. They couldn't deny her children a happy celebration on this very grim anniversary.

The Cooper family arrived, and Mr. Cooper was in high spirits, carrying Matthew on his back. I wondered how Charlotte could keep up with four children under the ages of five, but she did it somehow! We all sat around several large tables and waited for the birthday boy and girl. It seemed like we waited forever, but their delightful giggles soon filled the café, when Sully brought them in. He looked handsome in a clean shirt and a newly shaved face. Our eyes met as he placed them down in their little seats, and I swear he smiled just a little. I couldn't take my eyes off of his, and my heart leapt with joy when he took a seat. The townsfolk were stunned, but they didn't dare say a word that might make him change his mind. This was comfortable, and though they were worried about how Loren would react, they were happily surprised when he reached over to shake Sully's hand. I watched, my eyes brimming with tears, when Sully shook Loren's hand awkwardly. It wasn't the end of this painful feud, but it was a beginning to the end. My heart leapt, and I hoped that things would only get better with time.

That evening, Sully and the children followed me to the clinic. I had presents waiting for them; cookies that I had baked. They turned out surprisingly delicious, and the children ate every one of them. Sully reached for my hand and led me into the front room, while the children giggled and spoke in their twin talk to one another. I looked up into his eyes, my own full of questions. He leaned down and softly kissed my cheek and whispered thank you. He told me he wasn't angry, and that I had opened his eyes. He said that nobody had ever done that before, and he was grateful. I was speechless, and I only smiled, a red tinge rising to my cheeks.

We didn't speak anymore that night. He was speechless too, and I think he was embarrassed that he had kissed my cheek. But, I didn't mind. Feeling him so close had made my heart pound harder than it had ever pounded before…even with David. That made me feel guilty, but I tried to convince myself that I shouldn't feel guilty for feeling this way. I was supposed to let go of the past.

September 1867

Over the next few months, our friendship blossomed, and we had a sort of silent courtship. We hadn't expressed our feelings to one another, though I was certain he felt the same about me as I felt toward him. We were both scared, and neither one of us was sure how to take the next step. The townspeople saw it, we saw it, but we were the ones who couldn't admit it just yet. He took me around, introducing me to people outside of town that might consider me to treat their ailments, and we sometimes picnicked by Willow or Snow Creek with the children, enjoying the beginning of Autumn.

The children clung to me when I was around, and Dorothy made the comment as to how they looked up to me like a mother. That thought didn't scare me, though it made my heart long for a family of my own. These children were precious to me, and I loved them as if they were my own. I often wondered if Sully realized it or thought about it.

Adam and Hanna played with the Cooper children regularly. When I wasn't busy, and Sully was at the reservation, I would take the children with me and Charlotte to gather herbs and other things, and she would bring her own children. It was amazing how maternal I felt when Adam would fall and scrape his knee. I would wish that it had happened to me just to take the hurt away from him.

It was in late September, when the leaves began to fall from the trees, that Sully asked me to join him on a picnic. Thinking we would be eating with the children as usual, I accepted, and we strolled across the meadow to a picnic blanket. Everything was set out, and nothing was missing except…the children. I looked at him, speechless, and I saw the color drain from his face. He was nervous, and he clumsily helped me sit down. He poured us glasses of lemonade, and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. What was this about? I wanted to know, but I didn't dare ask.

Then, he pulled something from under the blanket, and I stared at it for a moment. It was a flat board with beautiful golden letters carved and painted into it. It said: Michaela Quinn M.D. And underneath, Medicine Woman was carved into it. I looked up into his eyes, and he told me that Chief Black Kettle had given me the name, when I brought vaccinations to the Cheyenne children. I was speechless, and I felt the tears forming, but I didn't cry. I was too happy and too shocked to cry.

Then we ate. We didn't speak, and the silence was growing intense. I needed to speak, or I needed him to speak. Either way, the silence was becoming bothersome. But, when he swallowed his last gulp of lemonade, he finally looked up at me. He thanked me for being there for Hanna and Adam. I wanted to speak, but he wasn't finished. He thanked me for being a friend to him and to the children, and he told me that having me in his life had made things bright again.

My heart was beating a mile a minute, and when he told me that feelings were hard for him to talk about, I knew what was coming. I reached over to touch his hand, and his eyes sparkled in the sun. We were scared, but we were moving on. I told him he didn't need to say anything, because I knew how he was feeling. I was feeling it too. Then it happened. It was like a force of nature that brought us together. Hands met hands, lips met lips and hearts met hearts. I couldn't believe it. My first kiss with Sully felt like I was learning how to kiss for the very first time. It wasn't like it was with David. It was sweet and loving, yes, but something about him made me want it even more, and we drew one another in, being cautious but eager at the same time. I didn't feel clumsy or foolish at all. I felt alive.

His tongue traced along the outline of my lower lip, and I gasped in surprise but opened up to him. His hands moved to cup my face, and mine rested on his chest as the air around us grew cooler. We didn't notice right away, but when the wind picked up, we pulled back and stared at one another, shocked, happy, scared and nervous all at the same time. I wasn't sure about him, but I felt like a schoolgirl, waiting for the first boy she ever kissed to say something, anything to break the silence. When he didn't, I did. I told him it was getting late, and I stood to help him pick up the picnic items. His hand enclosed over mine, when I moved to pick up the basket, and our eyes met again. He apologized, and I told him he had nothing to apologize for. I hoped he realized I wanted that kiss just as much or even more than he did. I'd never say that, but it was true!

Together, we picked up the picnic items and carried them back to town. Hanna and Adam were playing on the porch of the mercantile, and Sully and I stood nearby, watching Loren play and laugh with them. He was obviously soft at heart when it came to family, and it warmed my heart to see such a sight.

I retired to the clinic, and Sully went to pick up the children, and I watched them from a dusty window. Sully was still awkward around Loren, and the same went for the older man, but when it came to the children, nothing else mattered. I noticed them exchanging words, and when Loren looked toward the clinic, I ducked behind the curtains, not wanting to be seen. But I couldn't stop the smile and the flush that spread across my face, as I realized that they were talking about me. Judging by the recognizable flush I could see on Sully's cheeks from all the way over here, it was obviously a good conversation.

Halloween 1867

I dressed up as a witch this year, wearing all black and topping my head off with a pointed hat. I didn't feel much in the spirit of Halloween, however, and I didn't even feel like a witch. I felt more like Cinderella or another princess from the fairy tales. Sully had promised to take the children into town for the party, and I had helped Dorothy make their little costumes. Hanna and Adam were both little angels, literally! We made them matching pairs of wings and little halos to wear around their heads. Charlotte's children came in dressed as Indians, and of course, little Colleen was an Indian princess who couldn't be reasoned with.

I sat holding Hanna in my lap, and she slept with her head resting against my chest, her belly full of sugar cookies and apple cider. I watched as Sully carried Adam around, and the little boy pointed at all of the costumes, crying at some and laughing at others. Watching the children enjoying themselves made me smile, and as I smiled, I caught Sully's gaze. He moved toward me, and he reached for my hand. I didn't know what to expect next, but I took it, and we walked away from the party, a child in each of our arms. Adam's arms encircled his father's neck, and Hanna woke, clinging to my side as she rode on my hip.

We walked a ways, and we finally stopped on the bridge that connected the churchyard to the town road. Hanna and Adam looked down into the water and thought it would be funny to see if they could spit and make the water ripple. That kept them entertained, as Sully and I stood quietly on the bridge, our hands still joined. Finally, he took my other hand in his free one, and I turned completely toward him, looking up into his eyes.

Without words, he pulled me close, and I didn't feel uncomfortable. My eyes grew blurry, but I didn't care. I closed them as he moved closer, encircling his arms around my waist, whispering something in Cheyenne that I couldn't understand. But, it was beautiful, and I repeated it in a bashful whisper, not knowing what it was. Nemehotâtse. I didn't dare ask what it meant, but it felt right. And, my lips met his, gently at first but growing more eager. We pulled each other closer, filling the silent air with longing kisses.

We broke apart at the sound of Hanna and Adam's giggling. They were looking up at us, their little fingers pointed, and they made kissing faces. Sully and I couldn't help but laugh. I took Adam, and he took Hanna, and we started back toward town, hand in hand. Then, we were family.

Christmas 1867

I had been in Colorado Springs for well over a year, and in some ways, I still felt like a stranger. But, I loved this place and called it home. It felt even more like home right now. I was seated at the table of the Sully homestead. The children were getting ready to sleep after playing with their new gifts. There weren't many from Sully, but they were all handmade and straight from the heart. I had knitted them each scarves and mittens for playing in the snow with, and Sully had greatly appreciated it. Hanna's old scarf was full of holes, and Adam had let Wolf devour one of his mittens, so the new garments were needed.

I had my horse stabled in Sully's barn, and I was going to go back to town on my own. He didn't want me riding alone, but I had done it plenty before. So, I was waiting for him to tuck the children in before saying goodbye. I watched him with them, telling them stories and even making the noises when they demanded it.

Sully finally got them put to sleep, and he helped me with my coat. We moved onto the porch, and the snow was falling down and sparkling in the moonlight. Sully told me I looked like a Christmas Angel, and I laughed, telling him he had been reading the children too many stories. He told me he was being honest. It was then that I realized he was trembling, and it wasn't just from the cold. His hands sought mine, and in the cold night air, we held each other, embracing one another and feeling the warmth of each other's arms. When I pulled back, he kissed me softly, and it was a kiss like I had never felt before. I opened myself up to him, and we explored one another, feeling our hearts joining as one.

When he finally pulled back, I searched his eyes, and he cleared his throat. I'll never forget the words he said to me.

"Michaela, I ain't never felt this way before…not even with Abagail. I loved her, but there's somethin' inside of ya that brings so much light into my life. I need ya to know it before ya give up on me." I could never give up on him. "Nemehotâtse. I love you, Michaela." My tears spilled over with realization, and they felt frozen in the night air, but my smile warmed them away. I breathed a sigh or relief, and I answered him with a kiss. When I pulled back, my forehead rested against his.

"I love you too."

I left that night with a full heart, so full I thought it my burst. But I was happy, and I don't think that smile ever truly went away that evening. His words echoed and shattered in the air, filling me, surrounding me and protecting me from the cold of the night.