Chapter 5—"Across the Room"

She sat in a chair, holding the edges as the strange, beautiful lady sat before her, smiling calmly. She did not know what to think of her. The lady held out her hands for hers. She didn't know what to do. She seemed kind. She wouldn't hurt her, would she?

"Matthew?" Michaela asked softly, not taking her eyes away from the strange, disheveled woman. "Is the water ready yet?"

Matthew jolted from his daydreams and checked the bucket of steaming water hanging over the fire place. He lifted the handle and poured the liquid into a large basin, his eyes traveling across the room towards the two quiet women beside the dinner table.

He lowered his voice as he crossed the distance, placing the basin next to Michaela on the floor. "Here... That'll be nice and warm for her."

"Thank you, Matthew." Michaela smiled, as Matthew stood there awkwardly, shuffling his feet for a few moments. Michaela cleared her throat, gesturing towards the door. "Why don't you bring us some more firewood while I clean her up?"

Matthew grabbed Brian hand and quickly left the house, only looking back once. He wasn't used to being around women like that, and she was nothing like his Ingrid.

Michaela looked in the woman's eyes and smiled again. Slowly, Michaela soaked a sponge in the warm water, squeezing out the excess before holding out her hands again for the suspicious woman. "You can trust me," Michaela whispered. "These hands won't hurt you."

With great effort, the woman removed her hands from the chair and placed a curled knot into Michaela's palm. From across the room, Colleen watched as the woman slowly relaxed as her ma bathed her, as the dirt left her skin and it became a golden white again, as her eyes softened from sapphires to oceans.

Just as Michaela was finishing cleaning her feet, the boys returned and stood uncomfortably by the door. Matthew, curiosity plaguing him, swallowed and looked across the room towards the woman. But, the moment he did, she turned suddenly and looked him directly in the eye. Without a second thought, Matthew bolted across the room and proceeded to make himself busy by the fire, whittling a piece of wood.

"There," Michaela said, dropping the dirty sponge in the basin. She sat back on her heels, catching her breath, but before she could lift her head, she felt two hands on either side of her face. The woman slowly lifted her face, causing Michaela to freeze at her touch.

Colleen's eyes widened and she stepped forward, whispering, "What's she doin', Dr. Mike?"

But Michaela couldn't answer Colleen. She didn't know, and she couldn't speak. The woman opened her mouth and closed her eyes, trying to find the words, trying to remember what to say, so she could say thank you.

But, it was so long ago.

She shook her head and opened her eyes. She caressed the side of Michaela's face and then nodded, looking into her eyes for recognition. Michaela placed her hand over the woman's and smiled, letting her know it was alright, even if they couldn't speak to each other.

Quietly, Colleen walked across the room to her dresser and picked up her grandmother's silver brush. Holding the dear possession close to her chest, she whispered, "Think she'll let me brush her hair?"

"You could try..." Michaela gently removed the woman's hands from her face and reached for a dry cloth. "Be very gentle. And talk to her."

"I thought she didn't understand English, Ma." Brian finally spoke up, wandering across the room as he sat on the bench across from Matthew, observing the women.

"Even if she doesn't, she'll know by your tone that she can trust you."

Colleen nodded cautiously and stepped behind the woman. "I'm just gonna brush your hair a little."

Colleen took one stroke down her long main and paused. She tensed slightly but did not move away. After a few more strokes, the woman's shoulders relaxed and she looked over her shoulder, watching Colleen's careful work. Michaela sat back and smiled as she watched the woman close her eyes, seeming to find some kind of peace under Colleen's attention.

Matthew noticed and dropped the extra kindling in front of the hearth. He sat next to Brian and whispered in his ear, "She sure is pretty."

Brian nodded, not taking his eyes off of this interesting woman. "Yeah, she's got a real nice face. Maybe she'd like to be our friend?"

Michaela raised her eyebrows as she overheard their "secret" comments. A pretty face could always turn Matthew's head, but little Brian too? She observed the woman's face intently for a few moments. To Michaela, she looked like she belonged among the trees and rivers and rocks of the earth—a creature of nature. Wild. Different. Her hands weren't soft when she had touched her, but she had a sweet face.

Suddenly, the woman opened her eyes again and reached for the brush. Colleen hesitated slightly. "My grandma gave this to me. The handle's made of silver."

The woman stared at it, transfixed, and ran her fingers over it like she was playing the keys of an old piano, invoking some kind of lost memory. Sensing it, Colleen relinquished the treasured gift and put the brush completely in the woman's hands.

"Go on, try it yourself."

The woman held the brush to her head but did not move it. She looked back at Colleen, lost. Patiently, Colleen pretended to comb her hair with a brush, and then, the woman understood her. She began to brush her own hair. She gasped as the brush pushed through strands of long hair and her eyes scanned from Colleen to Brian to Matthew to Michaela. She closed her eyes again, fighting something that wanted to break free but couldn't.

Brian stood from the bench and moved close to Michaela on the floor. "Looks like she's rememberin' somethin'."

Michaela nodded, knowing exactly what it felt like to be alone and have no one understand or accept her. But she couldn't say that out loud, so instead, she simply said, "I believe you're right Brian."

She pulled him close, and she swallowed hard as she watched tears come to the woman's eyes.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"So, my friend, I see you are well again." Cloud Dancing reached for Sully's hand as he jumped off his horse at the Reservation.

Sully nodded, a small grin etching the corners of his mouth. "Dr. Mike took care of me."

Cloud Dancing raised his eyebrows. "I see. And the other sickness?"

Sully shrugged, trying not to think about her dismissive tone that morning when he wanted to spend time with her. "We're workin' on it. She's been kinda busy… Well, we've been kinda busy…"

"Too busy to talk?"

Sully sighed. "The army killed a bunch of dog soldiers this mornin' over by Oak Creek, and the only survivin' member of the party was a white woman who's been livin' with 'em."

Cloud Dancing paused, studying Sully's face. "Out of choice?"

Sully nodded. "That's what my gut tells me."

Cloud Dancing shook his head. "She will have a difficult life now. You know this."

Sully knew what he meant. He didn't want to talk about it, but he knew that Cloud Dancing wanted him to say it. "After Abby died, I didn't want to go back to the white world, I know. But this is different. She's been forced into the town. There ain't no choice in it."

Cloud Dancing absorbed his words. "Where is she now?"

"With Dr. Mike."

Cloud Dancing smiled. "A good place for her to be."

Sully grinned at that. "The best."

Cloud Dancing stopped. He often wandered if Sully really understood how special Dr. Mike was, but somehow, he knew that he did, or at least, he soon would. "Is there anything I can do for this woman?"

Sully nodded, thinking back to the fiasco that afternoon. "Well… Miss Dorothy tried to give her a bunch of dresses, but she didn't take too well to 'em. I know Miss Dorothy meant well, but—"

"Ah. Snowbird can help with this. Come with me." When they turned down the center row of teepees, Cloud Dancing looked down and saw the bandages. "What happened to your hand?"

Sully shook it off, putting his hand behind his back. "It's nothin'. The woman didn't know where she was. She was scared and she scratched me, that's all."

"She's marked you, my friend. I didn't warn you last time, but I'm warning you now." Cloud Dancing put his hand on Sully's shoulder. "Be careful."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"He really hypnotizes his patients!" Colleen stared at Michaela, completely flabbergasted. "You wouldn't do that, would ya, Dr. Mike?"

"Well, I never say never, Colleen." Michaela winked and went back to her thick Charcot text book.

Matthew laughed and continued whittling a piece of wood while occasionally staring at the woman. Brian's eyes were also on the woman, who was sitting in front of the fire and gazing into the flames. She looked so sad to him, like a little wounded animal. He quietly walked to his bed and pulled his quilt off, bunching it up in a ball until it was almost bigger than he was. He walked back to the fire, lowering the ball, just so he could barely see her face.

"You warm enough?" he asked. She didn't answer him or really seem to hear him. Brian twisted his lip dejectedly and dropped his blanket on the floor. Then, he picked up the ends and draped them over her shoulders. "Well...just in case..."

Michaela looked up from her book, a slow smile etching the side of her mouth as she watched her little boy.

The woman realized that the blanket was around her and pulled it closer, then suddenly lifted her gaze. Brian followed it to the coffee pot sitting on top of the mantle. He pointed at it. "That's a coffee pot. You make coffee in it. Tastes yucky if you ask me, but folks seem to like it."

Her eyes widened, and Brian grinned as something sparked. Slowly, her eyes shifted to a lantern sitting next to the hearth. She frowned and tilted her head. Brian stood and picked it up and held it in front of her. "It makes light when there's no fire goin'. That way you can carry the light around with ya."

She inhaled, and slowly slid her finger out of the blanket, seeing a pink seashell sitting in the corner. Brian quickly put down the lantern and grabbed the seashell, bringing it back to her. "It's a sea shell. I got it when I went to Boston. If you hold it to your ear, you can hear the ocean."

Brian gently pressed the seashell next to her ear and waited. Suddenly she jerked away when she heard the waves, but quickly went back, her eyes wide, remembering, remembering it all, as she heard the ocean again for the first time in years.

But, before she could see them, there was a knock at the door. Matthew jumped up and opened it, letting Sully inside. Her eyes brightened as he nodded to the beautiful lady, barely touching her arm in hello before he walked across the room and came to her, holding out the softest buckskin dress she had ever seen, finer than anything her husband had ever given to her.

"Brought something for you." Sully smiled as he saw the look in her eyes, realizing that Snowbird had been right and she would love the dress.

She shyly took the dress from his hands and retreated into the alcove, gazing at him before she disappeared. Who was this man and why had he chosen her?

Michaela watched her walk away, trying to maintain her façade even though Sully's back was to her. She remembered the first time he had given her a gift. She hadn't been able to contain the smile from spreading across her face as she ran her fingers across her name on the wooden shingle. But, this was different, right?

"That was very thoughtful of you," she said as brightly as possible, realizing that she was monitoring her own voice, wanting him to turn around and look at her instead of staring at the shadow in the alcove.

Hearing something off-key in her voice, Sully shrugged. "She had to have somethin' to wear."

He turned and looked at her, catching her smile that didn't make it to her eyes. He wanted those eyes smiling too.

But then she looked away as the woman came out. Sully turned. He was staring at this woman and he had no idea why. Maybe it was the way she was looking at him. Her eyes were filled with hope. She was beautiful.

Michaela exclaimed sincerely, "You look lovely." She didn't even have to look at Sully to know, but she needed him to say it. "Doesn't she Sully?"

Sully didn't even hear the question before thinking of his answer. It was natural. "Yes, she does."

Michaela exhaled, needing to move, needing to stop feeling that gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach she had never felt before in her life. "It's late. Perhaps we should all think about getting some sleep."

She quickly moved across the room, past Sully, not looking at him at all.

But, Michaela missed his outstretched arms, reaching for her.

She turned around when she got to her bed and pulled back the covers. She looked towards the woman, her strange feelings now repressed, and offered, "You can take my bed. I'll share with Colleen."

"I'm afraid she's not use to sleepin' in a bed," Sully said as he took the blanket discarded on the floor and laid it in front of the fire for the woman. The woman sank to the blankets, her voice finding its words again, words that were closer in her mind than those deeply imbedded in her heart. "Hahóo," she said, putting her hand over her heart, letting the words rest there.

Michaela dropped the sheets on the bed. "What'd she say?"

Sully glanced at Michaela as the woman gripped his arm. "She said thank you."

Michaela smiled, feeling relief that they now knew that the woman could communicate. "That's wonderful!"

Sully nodded and smiled at the woman, patting her hand in reassurance. "Well, goodnight."

But her grip was powerful and her words were pleading, "Nenóvoo'e vé'še vai!"

Michaela watched Sully hesitate and she asked, not understanding the looks flashing between them, "What does she want?"

Sully looked fully at Michaela as his hand slid into the woman's hand easily. "She wants me to stay with her."

Michaela nodded once, watching the woman curl close beside Sully, as he leaned against the wall, his knees edging up to his chest sheepishly. Michaela wasn't sure what to do. Should she be bothered? She had made completely unfounded presumptions about him and Dorothy before when he was simply learning how to dance for her. She had been completely and utterly foolish in that situation. But, even then, when she had felt the twinges of jealousy, she had never felt like this. This was… right in front of her eyes. Could she be jealous? This poor woman had lost everything. If Sully could offer her some kind of comfort, could help her communicate, then who was she to object?

What should she do now? What should she do? Go to sleep. The obvious choice. She looked down at her green and black dress. But, first she should get undressed. She looked at Sully again as she rolled down her bed sheets. Getting undressed. Why hadn't he turned away when Catherine was changing behind the curtain? There had been nothing to see but light and shadows, but still, he could see her shadow. The thought was there.

Sully frowned as he watched her brow furrow in deep thought. He could tell her mind was traveling; he only wished he knew what she was thinking. As he held this strange woman's hand, he held it easily, comfortably, but he had never wanted to run further away in his life. The look in Dr. Mike's eyes was enough to keep him up all night. He needed to talk to her. But the kids were settling down, and the woman held his hand like he was her lifeline.

Michaela quickly crossed the room, breaking her eye contact with him, and went behind the curtain in the alcove. The fire blazed behind them, sending her shadow towering across the room, across the ceiling, in flashes and sirens as Michaela tore down the front of her dress, taking her aggression out on her buttons.

Sully's mouth dropped as the shadows became closer to real images, and he wasn't sure if he was seeing things or if his imagination was playing tricks on him. But, the darkness had amplified the light, and he could see her. He quickly averted his eyes, knowing how precious her modesty was to her. He couldn't take advantage of that, no matter how much part of him was kicking him for looking away.

He brought his bandaged hand up to his forehead, and he realized he was sweating. He felt nauseous, completely and utterly nauseous.

Suddenly, the curtain pushed back, but he couldn't look at her yet. She would know. He was sure of it. He was already warm by the fire, but at this point, he was probably going to run a fever again.

Michaela stopped and looked at him. His face was buried in his hand, and his back was rising up and down in long, deep breaths. She felt the knot twist in her stomach again, and she turned away, not wanting to know.

She peeked into Brian and Colleen's room, seeing that Brian was already sleeping, but Colleen was still awake. She whispered, "Good night. I love you both very much."

Colleen looked up and whispered back, "I love you too, Dr. Mike…. Dr. Mike?"

"Yes Colleen?"

Colleen leaned up on her side, careful not to wake Brian. "How come she didn't trust us at first, but she trusts us now?"

Michaela pulled on the curtain between them, running her hands on either side of the thin fabric. "Because trust is something you have to earn. I'm sure people like us have probably broken her faith and trust, so she had to see that we wouldn't hurt her."

"Like the army?"

"Probably." Colleen lowered her eyes, thinking, as she put her head back on the pillow. Michaela watched her, as she thought about her own words. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

Colleen nodded, and Michaela closed the curtain.

The room was dark except for the fire as she walked across the room towards her bed. She didn't look at Sully. In the blackness of night, she could fully admit to herself that she did not like seeing him hold another woman's hand. She did not like him looking at another woman. She did not like him admiring another woman. She didn't want there to be another woman anywhere near him.

She slid in between the sheets and turned to the opposite side of the wall. But, it wasn't even another woman. They hadn't had a chance to talk all day long. She needed to talk to him. Something, very deeply, was still wrong and they hadn't discussed it. But, she didn't even know if she could find the words to tell him how she felt. They were so locked within her soul; she didn't know if she could ever share them with anyone.

Then, as if he had floated across the room, she felt a slight pressure on her back, and something not quite a murmur, "Talk to me."