Chapter 8

April 18th 1863

Colorado Springs

Her stocking feet trampled through the thick brown mud as she ran, trying to escape from the sound of gunshots, screams and images that misted through her mind. The earth was cold beneath her feet. as it usually was in the first weeks of April. But, she didn't seem to notice; she just kept running. She was so frightened and didn't know if he was chasing her. She didn't know if he could see her. She didn't know if he would find her.

Branches whipped her in the face, as she ran further into the woods. The moon was clouded over, and it was obscurely dark. Nature seemed to be silent as she ran. The only things that could be heard were the snapping of twigs beneath her bare feet and the heavy panting emancipating from her lungs.

Her throat burned from the bitter wind, and every breath she took stung like tiny needles, pressing their way into the lining of her gullet. But she didn't stop to catch her breath; she just kept on running. She didn't even stop to think of what she left behind. Her abandoned child didn't even reach into the far corners of her mind. Nothing did.

As soon as the gun went off, she started to run. She didn't even see who she had shot. It wasn't the man she thought it was. That's what scared her. So she had to keep running; she couldn't let him find her. Who knows what he might do to her? She saw everything horrible known to man happen to herself in her dreams. Every night it was something different; some new inflicted horror brought on, but it always ended the same way…death.

Were her dreams chasing her? Were they trying to drag her down and swallow her up into Hell? Was that her punishment for being an awful person? She didn't know anymore; it was just so confusing, so she just kept on running…running as fast as her legs could take her.

March 10th 1865

"So if the weather holds, Maureen and Claudette should be home by the end of the month," Elizabeth told Michaela before taking a sip of tea.

"I'm glad they're enjoying themselves in Europe." Michaela sat and listened to her mother retell the tale of her sister's escapades through England for the past hour.

"Yes. It's too bad you didn't join them, Michaela."

"Mother, I've already explained to you. There was no possible way that I could have gone with them. My life is here now. I have a responsibility to this town. I just can't go frolicking off to Europe."

Elizabeth sat down her cup and turned her attention to her daughter. "Michaela how long do you plan on embellishing in this little town just to prove your point to me?"

"Point?"

"Yes, your point. Your point that you no longer need me in your life and you can just come and go as you wish."

Michaela sought her words carefully. "Mother," she grabbed her hand. "I will always need you in my life. You're my mother." She smiled. "But I'm a grown woman that can take care of herself. I have a life here now."

"You have a whole life waiting for you in Boston if you just let it."

Michaela got up from her chair and looked over the railing to the town below. "Don't you see I have life here, right now in Colorado?"

"Michaela, Colorado can't offer you the same things Boston can." She stood.

"Like what?" she questioned.

"A real life Michaela, with people and things that are familiar to you-"

"Perhaps I don't want familiar, Mother."

"Do, you oppose me all the time just in spite?" she asked.

"I…I just don't want the same things you do. My priorities are different now."

"Don't you want a home?" She gestured toward the clinic. "A family?"

"I've always wanted those things, Mother. That hasn't changed… It's just shifted." Her eyes wandered.

"You're not getting any younger out here in Colorado."

Michaela pursed her lips. "I know that."

Elizabeth could tell she'd struck a chord within her daughter. "Michaela, I just want you to be happy…that's all I've ever wanted for my daughters."

"But I am happy." She smiled.

"What about Mr. Tate?" Elizabeth changed the subject.

"Jackson? What about him?"

"He seems like a nice man, and he comes from a good family."

"Yes." She wondered where her mother was going with this.

"He seems rather taken with you."

"Mother, Jackson is my patient."

"He's taken you out to lunch." She smiled.

"Once," she pointed out.

Michaela looked back down to the busy street below and noticed Sully briskly walking with Hannah toward the mercantile.

"Sully's back!" she smiled.

Elizabeth watched her daughters eyes light up once again with the mention of this strange man.

"Is this Mr. Sully a friend of yours?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth continued to watch her daughter. She seemed so fixed on watching this man cross the street. Her mouth was turned up in an impish grin, and her tension seemed to ease.

"Michaela please don't tell me you…feel something for this man." Elizabeth braced herself. "I saw the way you two were looking at each other the day he got on the stage."

"Of course not…he's a friend. He's helped me in many ways since I've come here." She looked over to the saloon and thought back to the day she was almost violated. A flood of emotions washed over her, and she thanked God that Sully had gotten there in time.

Elizabeth eyed her daughter, not completely convinced. "Well good. I don't believe he's a suitable person to be-"

"Sully's a good man, Mother," she cut in.

"Michaela, the man thinks he's an Indian, for goodness sake. Look how he dresses!"

"The Indians mean a great deal to him; they've helped him through a very difficult time in his life," she explained.

"It seems like you know him better than you're letting on," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Sully's taken me out to the reservation. I've met the Cheyenne Medicine Man, Cloud Dancing, and-"

"Michaela, do you hear yourself? Going out to an Indian reservation with a man you hardly know. What if something would have happened to you?"

"I'm fine, Mother. Sully would never let anything happen to me." A tear formed in the corner of her eye. "I have to go to the mercantile for a few supplies…so if you'll excuse me."

"I'll come with you." Elizabeth followed her back into the recovery room of the clinic.

April 18th 1863

"Ab, I'm home!" Sully entered the homestead early Sunday morning to be engulfed with the sounds of a wailing infant.

"Abby?" He moved through the house. "Abby?"

Setting down his knapsack on the table, he kneeled down to his daughter's cradle and picked her up.

"Shhh…its okay." He held her close. "Where's mama, huh?"

Hannah continued her screams, and her faced was flushed red. Sully sat her down on the bed and changed her soiled diaper. Her cries still did not abate. Becoming worried that something more was wrong with his daughter, he started to panic.

"Abby!" he shouted. "Where are ya?"

He opened the back door and didn't see her out in the garden or on the side on the house. "Where could she be?" he wondered.

Realizing that his daughter must be hungry, the urgency to find his wife grew. He looked over and found the barn door half way open. He briskly walked across the yard and yanked open the door. "Abby?"

He was about to walk in the barn, when he felt his foot collide with something. Looking down, his eyes narrowed on the crumpled heap.

"My God."

March 10th 1865

Michaela and Elizabeth walked into the mercantile and became immediately aware of the solemn faces of the Cooper children, Charlotte and Dorothy.

Michaela walked up to the women. "What's wrong?" she became alarmed.

Dorothy and Charlotte looked at one another. "Matthew, why don't you take your bother and sister over to Graces and get some pie, umm…" She peeked into her bag pulling out some money and handing it to Matthew.

"Sure. Come on you two."

Once the children were out of earshot, Michaela turned back to the ladies, and Elizabeth walked closer.

"Charlotte?" She queried.

"Something's happened, Dr. Mike." Dorothy's eyes brimmed with tears. "My niece…."

Charlotte put her arm around Dorothy for support. "Abigail died a couple of days ago. Sully just came and told us."

"Died?" She was aghast. "But…but how?"

"We don't know. They said the cause was unknown, but Sully's wiring them back, hoping to get some more information."

Michaela held Dorothy's hand. "Where's Loren?"

"Upstairs," Dorothy told her. "He's taking it hard. This is the first time I've seen him show any emotion since the day she left."

Elizabeth looked to her daughter. "Who is Abigail?"

"Sully's wife," Charlotte told her.

"Wife?" She looked to her daughter.

"Where's Sully?" Michaela questioned.

"Why, I believe he went back to the homestead. Poor man…he's not doing too well himself." Charlotte's eyes saddened.

"I have to see him." Michaela dropped her basket on the counter.

Elizabeth placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Michaela I don't think that's very wise, you hardly-"

"I have to go to him," she told her indignantly.

Michaela scurried out of the mercantile, her head in a flutter, not watching where she was going and trying to think of something she could possibly say to Sully.

"Whoa, what's got a hitch in your giddy-up there, Mike?"

"Jackson…"

"Mike what's wrong?" He noticed the tears in her eyes.

"I'm….I'm sorry, but I can't talk right now. I have to go…"

"Are you alright?" His eyes searched hers.

"I'm fine…it's a friend…I must go to them."

"Do you want me to take you? You seem really shaken. I don't want you getting hurt."

She smiled. "No Jackson, I'll be fine. Thank-you."

"Alright." He smiled back. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thank you, Jackson."

Colorado Springs

Summer 1871

"Rose, why is mama yellin?" The little girls slid under their parents' bed.

The children heard the cries of their mother downstairs, and McKenna held onto her sister tightly.

"Somethin' bad is happenin'," she cried.

5 March, 1865

Dear Momma,

I made it safely to Colorado Springs. It's beautiful out here in the mountains, and I would love for you and Father to come out here sometime. It looks like I'll be opening a lumber business here too. I have some surprising news as well. Colorado Springs has their own lady doctor, and she is none other than Michaela Quinn. Does that name sound familiar to you? I have spoken with her mother who was in town visiting, and she said that you two were very good friends when we lived in Boston. I couldn't believe it! I took Mike (her nickname) out to lunch one afternoon, and we had a wonderful time. She's very smart…and pretty. I hope to here from you soon.

Jackson

March 10th 1865

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before her hand raised and knocked on the door. For a moment, all the things she wanted to say to Sully vanished from her mind, and she couldn't recall a single word that she planned to say to him. It was almost like she had temporary amnesia. She drew in a quick sharp gasp, and her palms began to sweat. Her eyes searched around as if they were looking for clues to unlock her memory. She bit on her lower lip, as she contemplated turning around and going back home, before Sully opened the door. Her feet were shivering, but they couldn't move…they wouldn't move.

The door slowly opened. The room was dark except for the faint glow of dying embers that lit the hearth. At first, she didn't see anyone, and she took a tentative step forward, peeking her head into the homestead.

"What are you doing here?" A voice came from behind the door.

Michaela jumped back in surprise. "Sully?"

He came from behind the door and cast his eyes upon her. Michaela was taken aback by his appearance. He hadn't shaved, his eyes were glazed with red, and his hair looked as though a brush hadn't been run through it in days.

"May…may I come in?" she asked.

Sully thought for a moment, and for a second, he truly wanted to close the door on her and shut her out of his life forever. But he thought against it; it wasn't in his nature. She at least deserved to hear a proper explanation…a goodbye.

For an instant, she thought he was going to leave her out in the cold. She saw this emptiness in his eyes that she never witnessed before. It spoke to her…it scared her.

"Never mind, Sully. I'm sorry….I'll go." She turned around, ready to escape one of the most terribly awkward moments of her life. But then she felt a hand on her shoulder, softly stopping her from edging off the porch.

"Wait, you…you can come in." He opened the door to her.

She turned back around and looked up into his eyes, which at the same instant, he let fall to the ground.

He closed the door and stood with his back to her, as he looked through the knotholes of the frame. He tried to gather his thoughts; he tried to think of what he wanted to say to her. But she was the first to break the silence. She broke it with a single touch.

Michaela placed her hand upon his shoulder, trying to convey her sympathy to him.

"Dorothy told me…when I was in town this afternoon. I'm so…so sorry Sully." As the words spilled forth from her mouth, she felt the inadequacy of them. She meant every word she said, but they didn't seem to be enough. She felt him hurting…and at that moment, she knew she would do just about anything to lessen the pain for him.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and turned to face her. The first thing he saw was complete genuine concern in them. Nothing was fake or pretend about what she just said. She was standing so open and vulnerable in front of him. What she was saying was coming from the deepest and most secret reaches of her heart. And he knew it.

She just wanted to be there for him; she wanted to be his best friend. She wanted him to cry on her shoulder…to let it all out. That's all she wanted. She wanted him to be happy again; she wanted to see the look in his eye when he first took her to the Indian reservation and introduced her to Cloud Dancing. She wanted to see the happiness on his face when he realized Hannah was going to be okay; hear he laugher in his voice when she taught him how to skate. That's all…

"She's…she's gone Michaela." He sank into her arms.

They crashed onto the floor together, and Michaela wrapped her arms tightly around him, pulling him into her embrace. She held him the same way he held her during her hour of ache. She didn't say anything to him. She just wanted to absorb his pain; take it on herself. He didn't deserve any of the anguish that was being inflicted upon him.

He wasn't thinking. He just let his thoughts wander around as she held him. He continued to stare at the floorboards, closing his eyes every so often to just relish in the comfort that, for the moment, she was providing him.

She continued to hold him, and for once, she felt silence was best. She just wanted him to know she was there.

Sully felt the soft delicate flesh of her cheek press up against his own, as she hugged him tighter. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. The sensation of her silky tresses touching his neck threw him into a serene state of confusion. He felt her hand brace the back of his head, as he heard a soft moan escape her lips. He was being drawn in again.

God, was it happening again? Was he going let her do it again? No…not after what happened. Not now.

"NO!" He jumped from her arms, creating a great distance between them.

"Sully?" Her brow furled. "What's the matter?"

"You can't do this! You can't be here!" He shook his head.

"Did I do something wrong?" Her eyes searched his in confusion.

"Don't ya see, Michaela? This is why Abby's dead!"

"I…I don't understand."

"That's the problem! You don't understand," he lashed out. "And I don't get that."

"Sully…" She tried to pull herself off the floor.

"No. Sit down, and listen to me. He held his hands out to stop her.

She looked up at Sully, afraid of what he was going to tell her. She sat on her knees, and her fingers laced together in nervousness.

"She's dead, because she knew. She knew Michaela!" His voice rose.

She searched his eyes. "Knew what, Sully?"

He fell back onto his knees and grabbed onto her shoulders, shaking her. "Damn it, Michaela, why don't you understand?" he shouted. "She killed herself, because she thought I loved you!"

Her eyes shot back and forth, trying to grasp what he was telling her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, swallowing hard. Was…was he blaming her?

"Sully…I...didn't…I don't…." She began trying to process the words.

He let go of her arms and got up, turning away from her. "It didn't mean anything."

She fought back the tears that were threatening to invade her eyes. She didn't know why she was letting it bother her the way it did. She already knew the answer, but she asked anyways. She needed to hear him say it.

"What didn't mean anything?" She looked up to him, a tear escaping her eye.

"Everything…" His jaw clenched. "The night I kissed you…it didn't mean anything…it didn't mean anything t' me."

Michaela looked down. It felt as though someone had just kicked the wind out of her. Why was it hurting so much? Didn't she try to tell herself the same thing? That the kiss didn't mean anything? Why was it so different coming from him?

Sully didn't know why he was telling her all of this. It was just hurting her. But the words kept coming, and she was at the receiving end of his grieving process.

"You were just there, and it happened. It didn't mean anything t' me…and you don't mean anything to me."

She couldn't even keep eye contact with Sully any longer. She closed her eyes, and her chin quivered in sadness. This was not how she expected him to treat her. Sully wasn't like this. He would never say these things to her.

"Sully, I know you're hurting." She tried to stand.

"Hurting…hurting! You make it sound like I fell down and sprained my knee, Michaela. My wife is dead! Do ya understand that?"

Gathering her courage, she collected up what tiny strength she had left and looked Sully in the eye.

"I understand what you're saying to me. I'm not a child. I know what it feels like to lose some you love…" She emphasized the word.

"Do you? Do ya understand it all?" He walked closer to her. "Do ya understand that the reason my wife is dead…the reason she's not still living is because of you!"

She didn't think he would say it; she couldn't believe that he meant it…she didn't want to believe he meant it.

"But…but you kissed me." She came out with it. "I'm the one who stopped you! I was the one who knew it was wrong, Sully!"

He knew she was right. He knew that she was right about everything. And deep in his heart, he hoped she knew he was lying about everything. She didn't deserve to be hurt this way, and he didn't know why he was doing it. In a small corner of his being, he hoped that she hated him, so he wouldn't feel the pain of loving her.

He was shoving her out of his life in the worst possible way, but he had to ensure to himself that he would never see her again.

"Then why did you tell me that you felt things for me? Huh? You knew I was married. You knew we couldn't be together like that."

Her eyes scanned the room; she couldn't even tell him what her heart wanted her to say. Not that it mattered anymore. It would be just a meaningless three words that would fall on deaf ears.

"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore, Sully."

"Then why…why did you even come here?" He demanded an answer.

"Why…why?" Now she couldn't believe why he couldn't understand. "Because you're my friend, Sully. And you just had something horrible happened to you. I wanted to be here for you like you were there for me! Can you understand that!"

"You're not my friend anymore. You stopped being that months ago,"

"Sully…" The tears now lined her face, but she didn't care. The pain in her heart was too much.

"Papa…" Hannah came walking in the room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Hannah go back to sleep." He sternly told her.

She closed her tiny eyes and opened them again, and she focused on Michaela. Her sleepy face turned into a huge grin, and she ran to Michaela, clutching onto her leg.

Michaela stared at the dying embers in the fireplace. They were almost out now. She paid no mind to the child that was wrapped around her leg. Quickly, she picked up her shawl that fell to the floor and wrapped it tightly around herself.

She bit her bottom lip, not knowing why she wasn't moving after what Sully had said to her. A disgusting silence filled the air.

Finally, she looked down to Hannah. "Sweetheart, can you let go of my leg? I…I have to go."

Hannah looked at her with widened eyes. "No go!"

Michaela didn't think her situation could get any worse, but it had. She didn't even know what to say to her. So she didn't say anything at all. She bent over, took Hannah by the waist and pried her from her leg.

"NOOO!" the child screamed. "NO GO!"

Sully came from behind Michaela and took his daughter.

Hannah continued to kick and scream in Sully's arms. "PWEASE, NO GO! PWEASE!"

Michaela's tears ran down harder, as she placed her hand to Hannah's cheek, giving her a smile before turning to the door. She reached for the latch of the front door slowly. She didn't know what made her turn around one last time, but she did, and the only thing she saw through her blurred vision was Hannah's out stretched arms reaching for her.

"NO…NO…PWEASE!" She continued to cry.

Swiftly, she turned up the latched and opened the door, this time not looking back.

"MAMA! NO GO…MAMA!"