Chapter 18—"The Dream"

Perception is everything. What we do not know can only hurt us in the end.

"This waitin'!" Sully jumped up from the bench and pressed his arms against the clinic posts. He could feel small eyes around him, but his self-control was lost at the moment. He could still feel the tremor of her hands as she curled in pain beside him. He had only seen that kind of fragility once before, and it was when Abagail had died. Matthew quickly took Brian's hand and made his way down to the store. But Sully still knew those curious, concerned eyes were still watching him somehow.

"Oh Sully…" Dorothy finally spoke, putting a gentle hand on his back.

"I'm a fool, ya know. I'm a damned fool. For the longest time I didn't tell her how I felt. Scared of gettin' hurt again. Scared that woman—that woman—in there would actually dare to stand up and break my heart. Cause I knew… I knew the first time I looked in her eyes she had that kind of… of… power, that kind of hold on me. I never dreamed I would hurt her. How selfish am I? I go day in and day out wantin' and waitin' for all the good things to come in my life, but she's been here all the time. Scared as me. I may have pushed her too far."

Dorothy's lips trembled as she heard Sully speak more than he ever had in front of her. "Sully, no…"

His head dropped and he voiced his greatest fear, "What if this is more than…"

Dorothy took his shoulders and turned him around to face her, fire in her eyes. "I know Michaela… She ain't about to give up yet. So don't you either."

Sully nodded, hearing the truth in her determined words. "I can't lose her. We're just beginnin'."

"Then don't start writin' the end yet. It ain't in sight."

"I don't think I can go in, Elizabeth." Caitlyn's slight form trembled in her heavy winter coat as they stood in front of the large brick orphanage. It looked like a jail or a mental asylum to her.

Elizabeth shook her head and reached out. "Don't be silly, Caitlyn. Just take my hand. I'll be with you every minute."

Cold air blew through her mouth like a cloud. "It's just… I'm so nervous. What if my baby's inside?"

Elizabeth smiled. "She might be."

"She?" Caitlyn frowned.

Elizabeth shrugged as she caught herself. "Or he. I've had so many girls—saying he almost seems strange to me."

"Will you never try again for a boy?"

Elizabeth smiled softly. "We talked about it. Perhaps when Michaela is a little older. We were certain she was going to be a boy. The way I carried her, the way she kicked me, the way—"

Caitlyn grabbed Elizabeth's hand. "Oh Lizzie, I want that too. Let's… Let's go in."

"Good." Elizabeth put her hand over Caitlyn's and ascended the steps.

Before she rang the bell, Caitlyn hesitated. "You'll stay with me every minute?"

"Every minute. I won't leave you." Then, Elizabeth and Caitlyn rang the bell together.

"Colleen," Dr. Bernard eyed her cautiously, "Keep the chloroform at a steady pace as I begin the procedure. We want to keep your mother as comfortable as possible."

Colleen, her joints and nerves shot, didn't nod, but answered as best she could, "Yes sir."

Dr. Bernard paused and watched her, seeing a fine film of sweat forming over her upper lip. "You're doing a fine job, Colleen."

"I—" She wavered, her arm shaking as she held the bottle.

Dr. Bernard stopped completely. "Steady now."

"I can't feel my hands." Colleen finally admitted, her face paling as she tried to breathe.

"Look in my eyes, sweetheart," he ordered in a soft, commanding voice.

Colleen looked straight into his eyes, and she knew that he saw her fear and her failure. "Ok."

"If this is too much, I'll call for Ms. Dorothy."

She caught her breath and took hold of the bottle. She focused on her mother's face. "No…No… I need to be here for her. She's my mother. She's dependin' on me."

"Alright. Then we're going to do this together, Miss Cooper. I am trusting you."

Colleen didn't take her eyes off of Michaela. She wouldn't fail her. She couldn't. "Yes sir. I can do it."

"You think it is wise for you to travel so late in the day?" Snowbird watched from a few feet away as Catherine loaded Michaela's horse with supplies.

Catherine did not look up. She could feel the older woman's judgment on her. "I do not belong here, Snowbird."

"You do not belong there either." She moved to stand beside her and took hold of Flash's reins.

Catherine turned to face her and took the reins back in her hands. "I need to make sure they are safe before—"

"You will not cause trouble for them, will you?" Snowbird raised her voice, daring her.

"What could I do really?" Catherine whispered, her voice deceptively calm.

Snowbird narrowed her eyes. "I almost liked you."

Catherine put her hand over Snowbird's. "I know. I am not looking for a friend though."

Snowbird sighed, seeing she could do nothing for this woman. "You saw something horrible. You should—"

Agitation filled Catherine's face as she jumped on Flash's back. She looked down in Snowbird's concerned eyes. "Porcupine Bear is dead because of me. Because I told him to go away. I could not even watch him do it. I have to carry this alone. Goodbye, Snowbird. Take care of the girl."

"Mother! For goodness' sakes! Come in! You're drenched!" Marjorie reached out and pulled Elizabeth inside, who looked as though she were trapped inside a Monet painting.

"Harrison, go out back and gather more logs for the fire quickly!" Rebecca ordered as she pulled her shawl from the coat closet and wrapped it around her mother.

"Martha!" Marjorie bellowed, "Run to the kitchen and make mother a hot pot of tea this instant!"

"Girls! Stop!" Elizabeth put her hands over her face, exasperated, tired, and suddenly overwhelmed by filial affection. "This is quite unnecessary! I'm perfectly alright. I… I just want to be alone right now."

"But where have you been?" Marjorie asked, her eyes wide and questioning. Elizabeth looked away quickly, seeing the flash of the little girl asking her the very same question.

Elizabeth smiled and turned towards the servants, avoiding her daughters' concerned faces. "There will be time for questions in the morning. I'll be up in my room, Martha. You can bring the tea there."

"Yes m'am." Martha hustled off to the kitchen.

Marjorie stared after her, not knowing what to say. "I've never seen her like this."

Rebecca sat down beside her mother's discarded carpet bag. She stared at it until she thought she might burn a hole through it. Finally, she whispered, "I have."

When Marjorie suddenly heard the shuffling and frantic movement of her sister, she turned quickly to see her sister searching furiously through her mother's bag. "Rebecca? Rebecca! What on earth are you doing? You can't go through mothers' things!"

"There are some things, sister, that you just don't understand. Smile, he said. You have to smile. Well, I've been doing that for the last thirty-five years and what good has it done me? I'm not going to smile again through one more of her God driven mistakes!"

Marjorie fell to her knees in front of Rebecca and put her hands over her sister's. "Rebecca…Please stop! There are things…things in a private life that one just doesn't need to make public!"

"I suppose you're speaking from experience," Rebecca suddenly spat, her eyes stinging.

Marjorie's mouth dropped. What was wrong with her mother and sister? They weren't supposed to have any problems. They were supposed to be her touchstone. "That was beneath you, Rebecca. You can keep mother's secrets. I won't be a party to them."

She stood up and grabbed her discarded coat and ran out the door before she found out what was eating her sister alive.

Rebecca pulled the crumpled train ticket out. Baltimore. Round Trip. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes. "Oh God no."

Elizabeth hesitated at the top of the stairs, knowing the cold seeping through her corset was the least of her strangulations. Her eyes traveled to the closed door at the end of the hall. Michaela's old room. Slowly, she made her way there and pushed the heavy mahogany door open and entered her daughter's sanctuary. The four poster bed cradled the heavy cream linen in strict lines, the room kept in precise order like a rubric square, so different than their tumbles on their misshapen picnic blanket so many years ago. Whatever happened to that blanket? She couldn't remember. It had disappeared when she came back, and by then, Michaela didn't want to go on picnics with her anymore.

But it was better, wasn't it? Michaela loved her, despite everything. She had lost her to the other side of the world, but… but at least she loved her. That had to be enough.

Her eyes traveled to the picture of her husband sitting prominently on the bedside table. He had been Michaela's hero. Her hero once too.

She traced the gray edges of his face, a frown formed around her face, and she couldn't help asking him as the aged tears resurfaced in her eyes. "Oh Josef… Will she be able to forgive me too?"

She took his picture in her hands and pressed it against her chest. Her head fell against the perfectly made bed, and it crumbled with the weight of her sorrow.

"Hey…" His honeyed voice dripped into her ear and she smiled slowly, opening her eyes as snow surrounded them like a blanket. "Hey."

"Hey," Michaela whispered, feeling fresh and alive in the soft white that didn't chill.

"Good morning. Look who I brought over." Suddenly her arms were filled with the greatest warmth she had ever held. Soft and perfect. Her baby girl.

She smiled up at him, seeing her eyes reflecting in their little girl's. "How'd you know?"

His arms circled around them both. "I had a feelin' you were missin' her."

Michaela leaned across the cooing child and kissed him, feeling a wholeness stretch through her body. "I never knew I wanted this so much. For the longest time, I thought I wanted to be alone."

He smiled, caressing the side of her face. "Not now."

She shook her head shyly. "No, not now."

Sully looked down at their miracle. "She's—"

"A dream," Michaela realized, her heart beginning to pound furiously in her chest as the magic in Sully's eyes began to fade away and the soft bundle in her arms began to lose weight.

"A dream?" His voice sank beneath the whiteness.

"A dream. A dream…" She panicked, reaching out for him as the baby turned into a forgotten blanket. And there was nothing but white, cold white, imprisoning her in loneliness forever. "No… Sully… Come back! Please don't go! Please! I don't want to let her go! We can't let her go! You can't leave me alone like this! I can't do this alone! Sully!"

"Lizzie!" Her name sounded like an irritating bee buzzing in her ear. "Lizzie! Wake up! We're going to miss the train if you don't hurry!"

"I'm not goin'!" She groaned, burying her face deeper in the starchy white pillow that reminded her of Episcopalian mass.

"Caroline! She says she's not going!" Lizzie lifted her head cautiously as she felt the tender hands of her friend disappear from her back and leave the room. Escape. This was her chance before the other one came and pounced on her.

Just as her toe touched the hard wood floor, she met the violet-blue eyes of her best friend barging in the room like an antelope. "Not if I have anything to say about it! Come on, Lina. We'll both grab a leg!"

Quickly, Lizzie grabbed the iron metal bars of her bed and held on for dear life as the twins hiked both of her legs in the air. "What do you think you're doin'! This is abuse! This is—"

"Shut up, Lizzie! Before I yank your bloomers down and expose you to the world!" Caroline threatened, her eyes blazing with youthful temptation.

Lizzie turned around and glared at her, zapping her with her crystal blue eyes. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh yes I would!" Caroline laughed and yanked hard on her underwear.

Lizzie gasped indignantly and pulled her bloomers up quickly, anger turning her fair complexion into a cherry tart. "You are evil, Caroline Lewis, and you must be destroyed!"

Caroline's eyes widened and she began to back up slowly towards the door. True to form, she couldn't help but taunt her friend before she snuck out of the door. "Come on! Come on! Let's see you do it!"

"Why I oughta—" Lizzie jumped up from the bed, with only one sock on, and jumped over the railing of the bed, running like a flash of lightening after Caroline.

"Quick! Lina! Grab her bag!" Caroline called back to a bewildered Lina, left alone in the room with three large bags.

She shuffled to the window, attempting to carry two bags alone as she saw Lizzie chasing Caroline across the campus. "But what about your bag, Caroline!"

Suddenly, the entire contents of her own bag tumbled to the floor. Her bottom lip trembled, and she touched her collar as if she were being choked. "Oh dear."

"We have children from all over the country, many immigrant children, many colored children. I'm sure we'll be able to find a child that is suitable to your needs, Mrs. Montgomery." A middle age woman recited as though she were reading her lines from a well-worn script.

Caitlyn froze, her nerves shot. "My needs? Oh no, I'm not looking for a servant, Ms. Crudup."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Really? How fortunate for the child. Most people are looking for cheap, hired help when they walk through these doors."

Caitlyn's eyes widened with uncertainty, and she turned to Elizabeth. "Lizzie…"

"Don't worry… I'll handle this," She reassured Caitlyn and turned confidently to Mrs. Crudup. "Please, Mrs. Crudup. Mrs. Montgomery is a good woman who simply wants to be a mother. Now. Would you please help us."

"Yes, of course." She said dryly. "Follow me, ladies."

They began to walk down the hallway, but suddenly, Elizabeth felt the absence of Caitlyn's dependent hand on her arm.

"Caitlyn?" She called after her, turning around. Mrs. Crudup stopped and went back to a room they had passed. Sitting in the center of the room near the door were Caitlyn and a little dark haired boy. Elizabeth was about to walk in and join them, but suddenly, she noticed the little boy and she was taken back. He only had one arm, but he was drawing with the other hand.

"Mrs. Montgomery, this is the sick ward. I'm sure if you follow me—" Mrs. Crudup spoke loudly over the silent picture that Caitlyn and this small boy created together.

Caitlyn ignored her and talked softly to the little boy as she leaned over his shoulder. "What a beautiful picture. You're very talented."

"Gracias, bonita." He smiled at her with dark, deep eyes that matched her own. Elizabeth held her breath. He couldn't have been over three.

Caitlyn's face blushed as the boy's eyes met hers. "You're Spanish? My father was from Spain. Have you ever heard of Valencia? It is on the Mediterranean Sea—where the entire world smells like salt and wind."

The boy shook his head and put down his drawing pencil. "No, madre."

Caitlyn's face broke free, and Elizabeth knew that she had never been more beautiful. "Madre? Did you hear that, Lizzie? He called me mother… He—"

Mrs. Crudup tapped her foot, not amused with the sentimental scene before her. She had seen these bleeding hearts before, and all they ever did was bleed more once they took in such a difficult child. "Mrs. Montgomery, Chico is very sick and will be difficult to care for. I'm sure there are more suitable children—"

"More suitable children?" Caitlyn snapped, instantly putting her hand over the small boy's. "What is the matter with you? I'm sorry, I've found my child. I won't be looking any further."

"I strongly advise against—"

"Is he or is he not up for adoption, Ms. Crudup?" Elizabeth stood up, her full height towering over the lesser woman.

"Yes, of course, but—"

"Then I suggest you do your job and begin the paper work while we get Chico's things together." Elizabeth locked eyes with her, ending the conversation.

Mrs. Crudup smiled, knowing not to go any further with this woman. "Of course, Mrs. Quinn. Right away."

"Would you like that, Chico? Would you like to come home with me?" Caitlyn took both of his hands in hers. They had the same hands too. Frail.

The boy nodded happily. "Si, bonita."

Caitlyn laughed, happiness filling her. "Oh, he's perfect, Elizabeth. He's so perfect."

As the two girls ran into the center of town, Lizzie dove across the Green and tackled Caroline to the ground. Caroline, physically stronger, quickly rolled Lizzie over to her back and sat on her. She crossed her arms over her chest. "You're going."

"I'm not gettin' on that train. Ya can't make me!" Lizzie threw her arms over her face, clearly hiding now.

Caroline sighed and rolled off of her, lying next to her in the grass. "If you don't get on that train, I'll never speak to you again."

"I'll live," Lizzie mumbled into her arm.

"Oh really?" Caroline rested on her elbow and looked over Lizzie. "Who's going to take care of you then?"

Lizzie dropped her arms and looked down, annoyed that her chin was betraying her so obviously. "I've been doin' just fine by myself. What makes you think I need you?"

Caroline wrapped her arm around Lizzie's slight form and kissed the trembling on her face. "Because I need you, tough girl."

"Well, I hope you two have decided on something, because I'm getting on this train with your bags, with or without you!" Lina marched pass them prissily, a porter behind her carrying all of their bags efficiently.

"All Aboard! The Denver Line is now departing! Next stop Colorado Springs!"

Caroline and Lizzie stared at each other as the whistle blew. "Come on, Lizzie, what do you say?"

"That's it, Colleen. I've done all I can do." Dr. Bernard stood up and washed his hands in the water basin.

"How—" Colleen began to ask.

Dr. Bernard answered without looking at her, "I need you to put on a brave face, Colleen. I need you to be strong for your mother. I need you to smile for her, even if you don't feel it, alright? Do you understand me?"

Colleen nodded numbly as she stared at her mother's white face. "I think so."

Dr. Bernard stood beside her. Colleen lifted the corners of her cheeks. He nodded and put his arm on her shoulder. "There. You've just become a woman."

Sully heard Flash before he saw her. She stopped in front of the clinic and jumped off of the horse. He stood up and just looked at her. His accomplice. "You're back."

"I had to make sure you were safe," she said.

Sully's jaw clinched. "Dr. Mike isn't."

"What?" Catherine's stomach dropped. She hadn't wished that.

Sully looked past her. "They say these things are unexplainable, but I think it was our fault."

Catherine felt the air constricting in her hands. In her lungs. In her throat. "What did we do?"

"We may not be able to have children." Catherine collapsed on the steps as the guilty seizure struck her down, as though Porcupine Bear had hit her for the first time, plaguing her with the curse because of her lustful heart.

The train jerked and Lizzie's bag flew forward, her secret locket revealing two faces. An unknown woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. And her adoptive mother. Michaela.