Chapter 10
Colorado Springs
May 17th 1865
After knocking on the clinic door and not getting an answer, she slowly turned the knob and walked in. "Dr. Mike? Dr. Mike are you here?" Charlotte closed the door behind her and looked around the clinic. Everything was tidy and very much in order.
Suddenly, Charlotte heard footsteps overhead. "Dr. Mike?" she called.
Walking to the bottom of the steps, Charlotte thought she heard a soft weeping coming from above. She clutched the fabric tighter in her arms and ascended the stairs. Softly, she walked up the steps, skipping the ones she knew that squeaked.
She looked in each of the rooms, and as she got to the last door on the right she slowly pushed open the door to reveal a very distraught Michaela looking out the window.
"Oh Sully…where are you?"
Charlotte watched Michaela for a moment and saw her dry her eyes with her handkerchief. Her shoulders slowly heaved up and down, as she pressed her hand against the windowpane.
"I'm so sorry…."
Charlotte's eyes narrowed knowing what she thought all along was true. She bit her lip and knocked on the door. "Dr. Mike."
Michaela's shoulders stopped in mid heave, and she became stiff. Her eyes widened, and she slowly turned around on her heel. "Charlotte, I didn't hear you come in." She wiped away her last remaining tear.
"Well I was a knockin' down stairs, and I didn't hear anyone. Figured you were up stairs."
"Oh…"
"I brought your fabric. I was over at the mercantile, and Dorothy told me it came in."
Michaela looked at the fabric rod that Charlotte held in her arms.
"Ya ordered it, didn't ya?" she wondered.
"Oh, umm… yes." Michaela shook her head. "Thank you for bringing it over. "
"It wasn't nothing." Charlotte watched as Michaela took the fabric and tossed it on the bed.
"Something bothering you Dr. Mike?"
"No…why would you think that?" she stammered.
"Well, you seem like you're a million miles away. And your cheeks are all flushed to high heaven."
Michaela pursed her lips. " I'm…I'm just thinking about what I want to wear to dinner tonight," she fibbed.
"Dinner, huh?" Charlotte's eyes narrowed.
"Yes, umm… Mr. Tate has asked me to dinner tonight at Grace's."
"Are you and this Mr. Tate getting serious?" Charlotte asked.
"Jackson? Heaven's no," she blushed.
"Really…" she eyed her. "You two sure have been seeing a lot of each other."
"We're good friends, yes, but…we…I…"
Charlotte sat down on the bed next to Michaela. "Do you like spending time with him?"
Michaela looked down at her hands and placed them in her lap. "I suppose so." Michaela's brow wrinkled at the thought of how much time she had been spending with Jackson.
"There's nothing wrong with that, Dr. Mike."
"I know…it's just that I don't feel…I don't feel-"
"You don't feel the same way as you did with Sully," Charlotte came out with it.
Michaela's breath caught her in throat, and she almost swallowed her tongue. Hesitantly, she looked up and searched Charlotte's eyes, not saying a word.
"I know. I saw the way you two would look at one another…acted around one another," she told her. " The day he left…I saw the pain in your eyes."
"Charlotte…I…" Michaela began.
"And you knew it was wrong, didn't ya?"
Michaela's eyes filled with tears. "Please don't think ill of me. I…I already know I'm a horrible person."
Charlotte remained silent, thinking of what she wanted to say.
"I didn't know what I was feeling…until…." She couldn't go on.
"You can't help who you fall in love with."
The statement caught Michaela a little off guard.
"And you're not a horrible person," she told her. "I was a little surprised at first, yes. But I don't think badly toward you." Charlotte sympathized.
"But Sully was married…with a child," she pointed out, feeling the gravity of her situation.
"Did you two…you and Sully…" She lifted her brow.
"NO! No…" she shook her head. "I wouldn't…I wouldn't do that." She blushed anew, looking away.
"That's what I thought. I figured from your fancy upbringin' that…well…you know."
"Things never got that far, Charlotte. It was more…it was just feelings…feelings that I should have never acted upon. I was just so confused. I'm still so confused." She exhaled.
"You don't know where Sully's at," she knew.
"No…he left so abruptly. He was so…so angry with me."
"Angry with you?"
"He blames me for Abigail's death…" she sighed.
"Blames you? For Heaven's sake…why would he do that?"
"He said that Abigail knew about us. But there was never an us. I just don't understand."
Her emotions started erupting, and she felt as though she was alone again. Alone in a world that didn't understand her, and she didn't understand it. And there was nothing she could do about it.
"I think Sully's just hurting…and confused." Charlotte told her. "Are you sure there was never an 'us'?"
Michaela contemplated her words. "Charlotte, I've only been here six months. I don't even know Sully that well…I…."
"There isn't a time frame on love."
"I shouldn't have spent so much time with him…it was my fault," she chastised.
"It takes two people to fall in love, Dr. Mike. Sully was with you, because he wanted to be."
Michaela rose from the bed and looked out the French doors to the town below. She didn't know what to think. This was the last conversation she thought she would ever be having.
"Did he kiss you?" Charlotte asked.
Michaela felt the heat rising from within her. She bit her lip, and her eyes made a circle around the framework. This was definitely a conversation she wished she wasn't having.
"I'm not here to pass judgment on you. I think you would know that by now…"
Michaela turned back around and looked at the foot of the bed.
"Yes…" she whispered, not making eye contact with her.
"I see…"
"But it didn't mean anything to him," she blurted out. "He told me…it didn't mean anything."
Charlotte held out her hand, drawing Michaela to sit on the bed again. "What did it mean to you?"
Hearing the same words her mother had once asked broke Michaela down to tears. "I'm not supposed to feel like this," she cried, bringing her hands to cover her face.
"I just want to tell him I'm sorry…" She sobbed into Charlotte's shoulder.
"Sorry?" she wondered. "Sorry for what?"
"Sorry…sorry for loving him," she cried.
"Dr. Mike," she laughed. "How can you tell someone you're sorry for loving them?"
"Charlotte, don't you see? All it's caused is pain. That's all I've done to him is cause him pain. "
Charlotte pulled Michaela from her shoulder and pushed back the hair that was covering her face. "I think you both have a lot of 'I'm sorry's'."
"But that's just it, Charlotte. He's gone, Sully's gone. I won't ever get to say it."
"You don't think Sully's coming back?"
"You didn't see him, Charlotte. He was so angry with me. I wouldn't blame him if he never came back." She again buried her head in Charlotte's shoulder.
"So is that how you're going to live your life? Blamin' yourself?" She tried to reason with her. "Everyday, are you goin' to be wondering if he's gonna come back. Are you gonna stop living because you let yourself care?"
"I…"
"It may seem hard now, but life does go on. Things do get brighter."
Michaela thought back. "It just seems that everyone I've ever loved has been taken from me. First my father, then David, now…Sully."
"David?" she asked.
"He was my fiancé. He died in the war." She looked away.
"You let yourself love after David." She tried to point out what was in front of her. "And it seems as though there is another man trying to get your attention.
"Jackson…" she breathed.
"He seems like a very nice man. And I see how he looks at you too."
"I almost feel as though I'm spending time with Jackson, so I don't have to think about Sully. And that isn't fair to him." She tried to reason with her thoughts.
"Or maybe you're spending time with Jackson because you want to." Her brow lifted.
"I have grown fond of Jackson in the past couple months, but I honestly can't see this going anywhere."
"Who says this has to go anywhere?"
"I would do anything to move past this…to be able to move on," she told her.
"Well, I think Jackson would be a step in the right direction. " She smiled.
June 1st 1863
Manitou
"We just got word that Mrs. Sully is in the area, Sir."
"Was in the area, or is in the area?" he sneered.
The solider hesitated, "We're not sure, Sir. An eye witness said he saw her a few days ago in town."
"Where was she headed?"
"He doesn't know, Sir."
"Damn…"
"We'll keep lookin. Why don't you go back to Kansas. You got a jail to look after."
"'Cause I got personal gripe with this woman."
Colorado Springs
May 29th 1865
"I just can't believe that they finished your house in just less than 3 months! That's amazing, Jackson!" Michaela looked around the massive homestead in awe.
"Well with twelve men building it's no wonder," he laughed.
"The furniture that you picked out is lovely!" she smiled.
"Yeah, well I had a little bit of help from a woman with real good taste."
"That she does." Michaela took a seat at the solid oak kitchen table. "I could have a second career in decorating if I wanted to," she quibbled.
"I think ya could too!"
"It was nice of you to invite me over for dinner. It's been quite a while since I've had someone cook for me," she smiled.
"Well, there is no one I would want more than you to share my first official meal with in my new homestead." He rubbed her hand before turning back to the stove.
"Where did you learn how to cook?" she wondered.
"Pretty much out of necessity. With moving around and being by myself, I had to learn real quick," he told her.
"Well my culinary skills are somewhat lacking. I'm afraid I never learned that trade," she laughed.
"Really…" his brow narrowed. "Come here; let Jackson teach you the first rule of cookery."
"What?" she giggled.
"Come on!" he grabbed her hands. "Let me show ya!"
Jackson dragged Michaela over to the pump and filled the sink with water. "Okay, first ya gotta make sure that your hands are clean. You know how to do this right?"
"I think I remember." She rolled her eyes.
Jackson stood behind Michaela and submerged her hands into the water and then took the soap and rubbed a little onto each hand. "Now scrub them together!"
Michaela laughed and rubbed her hands together making a soapy lather. "Like this Mr. Tate?"
"Real good." He pumped more water into the sink. "Now rinse off."
Michaela did as she was told and grabbed for the towel to dry her hands. "All clean," she laughed.
"Good, I don't want any germs in my food! Now, first we have to light the stove…I'll do that," he laughed. "And you can cut up the chicken. You're good at cuttin' right?"
"I think I've cut into a few things in my day." She picked up the knife.
"Okay, good. Cut the chicken into little chunks, and then place them into that bowl."
Jackson lit the stove and then picked up a hand full of stringed beans and began to wash them under the pump. He watched Michaela, as she carefully severed the chicken in half. He couldn't help but laugh at how precise she was being.
Michaela turned her head to look at Jackson. "What are you laughing about?"
"You." He turned up his nose.
She pointed to herself. "Me?"
"Ya, you! You looked like your dissecting that chicken or getting it ready for surgery or something!"
Michaela placed her hands on her hips. "I am not! I'm just doing what you told me."
"First off," he walked behind her and took the knife. "The chicken's already dead. He's not gonna care if ya start digging into him."
"I know that!" she became defensive.
"And you can't hold the knife like it's a scalpel, or you're liable to cut your fingers off. Now watch I'll show ya." Jackson placed the knife in Michaela's right hand and covered it with his own. "Now you pick the knife up from the base, and you slide the meat under but don't take the tip off the cutting board. This way you get even pieces and you don't waste the meat."
As soon as Jackson's hand covered her own, Michaela became aware of how close they were standing to one another. His chest was pressed lightly against her back and she could feel his deep even breaths on the back of her neck. And it sent tingles within her.
She had been spending more and more of her time with Jackson in the past month, and she had to say she was finally starting to enjoy her self more with him. But there were times that he would do or say something that reminded her of Sully. And it felt as though she went right back to where she started from. It was like when she was with Jackson, she felt that she was taking a step forward but then her mind would travel back to Sully, and it would be like taking three steps back.
Jackson was so different than Sully in so many ways. There was no way to compare the two. Her feelings were also different. She liked Jackson very much, and it was growing more and more each day, but she didn't think it would ever measure up to what she felt for Sully. Maybe it wasn't supposed to. But one thing she did know was that Jackson was here, and Sully wasn't. He hasn't been for two months. She didn't know if he would ever be.
"I think you're getting the hang of it." He let his hands linger over hers a few moments longer, before he went back to washing the beans.
"I think that I could enjoy cooking," she smiled.
"I enjoy cooking with you." Jackson smiled, looking into her mismatched eyes.
Michaela kept his gaze and then looked down, becoming embarrassed. "What would you like me to do next?"
Jackson looked back to the cupboards. "Do you think that you can tackle cutting the carrots?"
Michaela placed her hands upon her hips. "I'm ready!"
Reservation
Hova'âhane- No. Oha nev' Hova'âhane Tsevestoemose- Only you know her husband. ve'ho'a'e- White woman. He'ôhma'heo'o- Medicine Woman. Naovaxe Hemé'oono- You dreamed of your sweetheart.
Her copper hair was shinning brightly in the sunlight, as she walked over the bridge to the meadow. Her snow-white dress billowed in the wind, as she came closer to him. It seemed as though she was walking in slow motion, teasing him with each unhurried step.
Everyone was staring at her beaut0 as she walked by. She was a vision in her pallid gown, and no one could help but smile. Her face was beaming with happiness, and as she got closer her smile grew more at the sight of him.
Her features became clear in his eyes, and it took his breath away. At that moment he knew she was the most stunningly beautiful woman he had ever seen. He couldn't believe in a few short moments they would be united forever.
His heart began to beat in his ears, as she was only a few steps away. He wanted to reach out and pull her in. He wanted to twirl her around and dance to the rhythm of their hearts. He wanted to whisk her away and keep her for all time. He wanted to kiss her, touch her, and love her.
She stopped a few steps in front of him and held out her hand. He reached out to clasp it but found a hand already there. The hand drew her in and she kept on walking….walking past him.
Slowly he turned around, and her back was to him…their backs were to him.
She smiled, holding his hand, squeezing it in her own. He looked down at her, and their eyes met. He whispered something to her, and she blushed. Then they kept on walking…walking away into the darkness.
"MICHAELA!" Sully bolted upright.
He looked around and found himself in the familiar surroundings of rawhide and the smell of wood burning fire. He ran his hands through his damp hair and swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. He was having the dream again. The dream he never shared. The dream he never talked about. The dream he knew was wrong.
Sunlight filled the teepee, and a shadow danced on the wall. " I heard my brother call out for ve'ho'a'e."
Sully looked at his Cheyenne brother, knowing it was finally time. " I've been having dreams, Cloud Dancing."
"Dreams of He'ôhma'heo'o?"
"Yes… and I don't know why."
"Dreams are often of the future or what we want to see in the future." He sat down. "Naovaxe Hemé'oono."
"Hova'âhane!" Sully rebuked.
"I do not know what is in my brothers heart…only what the sprits tell me."
"What do the spirits tell you?" he wondered.
"Oha nev' hova'âhane Tsevestoemose.
Sully pondered the words in his head. Only I know her husband.
"I will leave my brother to think." Cloud Dancing gave a look to Sully and exited the teepee.
"Why am I still thinking about her?" he said aloud. "Why can't I put her behind me?"
He thought back to the last day he saw her and the harsh words that were said. "She probably hates me, now. She probably moved on. It's been… two months."
Had he and his daughter really been living on the reservation for two months? At times, the days would fly by, but others seemed to drag on to the endless horizon.
"She deserves to be happy. Happiness that I can't give her," he thought. " I could never bring her happiness, not after what I said." Not after the tears I made her shed.
It broke his heart to remember the day he yelled at her. The day he turned his back on her. The day he lied to himself. The day he knew…
Wrapping himself in the buffalo hide, he listened to the sounds of nature. Faintly, he could hear his daughter's laugher outside of the teepee. He knew she was playing with the other children. And that brought him some comfort.
His head began to hurt, and he laid back down on the ground, contemplating his brothers' words. He didn't know what to make of them. He could only think of one thing.
Where were you when I could have loved you…
Colorado Springs
Jackson slowly pushed his plate away. "I don't think this stomach could hold anymore!" he laughed.
Michaela wiped the sides of her mouth with her napkin. "That was a wonderful dinner, Jackson."
"Don't thank me," he laughed. "You helped as much as I did."
"That's true," she smiled.
He looked at the apple pie that was cooling at the end of the table. "I think we'll have to save that pie for later."
"I think so too." She placed her napkin on the tale.
Jackson watched Michaela, as her eyes roamed around the homestead. Everyday he spent with her his feelings grew deeper. And he could only hope she was feeling the same way.
"Mike?"
"Umm…" she looked at him.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he smiled.
"What am I thinking?" The question caught her off guard.
"Yeah, you seem a million miles away just now."
"I'm sorry." She looked down.
"Hey, you don't have to be sorry. I was just wondering what you were thinking about."
Michaela blushed. "I…I wasn't thinking about anything in particular."
Jackson reached his hand across the table, taking Michaela's. "I'm really glad you decided to have dinner with me tonight."
She squeezed his hand. "I am too."
Jackson smiled. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, Mike. I wasn't sure if you…if you felt the same why I did."
Michaela smiled, a little unsure if she truly did feel the same way. She looked at her hands placed in that of Jackson's and bit her lower lip. "I'll help you get cleaned up." Michaela rose for the table talking her plate and submerging it in the soapy water.
"Oh no you don't!" Jackson got up "You're my guest. I'm not going to have you be washing dishes."
"But…"
"Mike…"
Michaela walked over to the table and picked up Jackson's plate. "If we work together, we'll get it done twice as fast."
"You're a stubborn woman." Jackson got up, removing the glasses and silverware from the table.
"I'm just practical." Taking the sponge, Michaela began to wipe down the dirty plates. As she watched the bits of food slide off and land into the sink, she could feel Jackson's eyes on her. And it made her a bit nervous to be under his gaze. It reminded her of when she caught Sully doing the same thing. "I'll wash and you dry?" she asked.
"Sure," he smiled.
Jackson watched, as Michaela began to wash the dishes, and he couldn't help but feel as though they were married and doing the household chores.
"Mike?"
"Umm… "She turned.
"Are you still going to that medical conference in Denver next week?"
"I think so. Why?"
"Well I have to go into Denver next week on business to meet with some of my financial backers for the opening of the mill, and I just thought…well I wondered…that is…I was hoping you might like some company."
Michaela smiled inwardly at his nervousness. "It would be nice to have a travel companion."
"Really? I mean, I know I'm not much for company, and sometimes I talk to much and-"
"Jackson I'm sure," she laughed. "Sitting on trains for long periods of time with no one to talk to gets a little lonely.
"Yeah, I almost died on my way here from Nevada."
Michaela couldn't help but laugh at his chattiness. "You're like a fidgety child," she smirked.
"Ya sayin I'm a little kid?" he neared her.
"Well…I…ah..." She avoided his eyes.
Jackson began to laugh.
"What's so funny?" she wondered.
"You got suds on your nose." Jackson slowly brought his hand to her face and wiped off the suds from her nose with his thumb.
Again Michaela felt that familiar tingle enter her body. This time Jackson was much closer to her, looking into her eyes. And before she knew what was happening, his lips slowly, cautiously, made contact with hers.
This dishtowel she was holding in her hand slowly floated to the floor and everything she was thinking just moments before erased from her mind, and the only thing she could feel was the unknown flesh upon her lips.
The kiss was short, and Jackson pulled away slowly. She opened her eyes and saw his dark brown ones staring into hers.
Michaela didn't know what to say. She was caught completely off guard again.
Jackson smiled. "How about some pie?"
Summer 1871
"Make her stop yellin', Rose! Please!" McKenna cried. "Please make Momma stop yellin!"
In the darkness, Rose looked at her younger sister crouched under the bed with her hands over her ears.
"I…I don't know how!" she cried back. "She's back again…and she won't go away!"
Rose squeezed her eyes shut, as she heard her mother yell once again.
"I have to help her!" McKenna scampered from under the bed.
"McKenna, no!"
"But, I have to help Mama!"
"But-"
"Rose, look!" McKenna pointed out the window. "It's Papa and Hannah!"
McKenna ran to the window and flipped up the latch. "PAPA! She screamed. "PAPA!"
Sully looked up to his bedroom window and saw his youngest daughter flailing her arms. He abruptly halted the wagon and jumped out.
"McKenna!"
"PAPA, HELP!" Tears poured from her eyes. "HELP MAMA!"
10, April 1865
Dearest Jackson,
It was such a relief to hear you made it to Colorado Springs safely. You have been in my prayers ever since you left Nevada. I wish you every luck in the starting your lumber business and any endeavor that comes your way. You wouldn't believe how surprised I was when I read your letter telling me about how you met Elizabeth and her daughter Michaela. It's been years since I've seen dear Elizabeth. And from the sounds of it, you seem rather smitten with her daughter. Please take care of yourself. And I hope we see one another very soon.
Momma
15, May 1865
Dear Rebecca,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. I wanted to get this letter to you as soon as possible to clear up any misconceptions that mother may have told you. You're the only person I confided in about Sully. I didn't know who else to turn to during this time. Every thing has been so confusing and hectic, and with mother arriving unannounced, everything turned into a tailspin. Sully's gone Rebecca, and I don't think he's coming back. I don't know what to do. He was so angry with me when he left. He blames me for Abigail's death. I don't know if it's the hurt taking or if he really means it. I don't know why I even feel this way. Please correspond soon.
Your loving sister,
Michaela.
31, May 1865
Dear Momma,
The boys came down like they promised and helped set up my mill and even my new homestead. Yes, that's right. I'm planning on staying here in Colorado. Everything has been going great! I've been wanting to tell you this for some time, Momma but I think I've fallen in love. I have been seeing Mike everyday for the past month, and we have gotten along great. We even had dinner at the homestead a few nights ago. You would just love her, Momma. She has the kindest heart and a gentle spirit. I think she may be the one.
Love,
Jackson
13, June 1865
Michaela,
I have not heard from you in quite awhile and wondered how you were fairing out there in the wilderness. I do hope you are taking care of yourself and keeping a straight head on your shoulders. Please remember what we talked about. I know you may think of me as harsh, but know that I only have your best interests at heart.
P.S. Have you been seeing much of Mr. Tate?
Mother
1, July 1865
Dearest Jackson,
You don't know how glad I am to hear that you found someone. Your Mike sounds like an absolute delight, and I can't wait to meet her. I have been corresponding again with Elizabeth, and she seems just as thrilled as I am. Your father sends his regards and wants to know how business is going. We're both so proud of you, Jackson.
Momma
3, September1865
Dear sister Michaela,
I received your package as of the first. The engraved bell was a beautiful birthday gift, and I thank you so much for it, and so does little Samantha. She rings it tirelessly. I'm very pleased to hear that you've taken the first steps at putting Sully behind you. It sounds like you're having a wonderful time with Mr. Tate. Do stay in touch.
Your loving sister,
Rebecca
27, November 1865
Dear Mother,
I hope you and the family had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I spent mine with the town and had a delicious dinner at Grace's Café. I'm sure that you will be happy to hear that Jackson and I have decided to start courting. He takes very good care of me, so you don't have to agonize about me getting swallowed by that bear you were talking about.
Fondly,
Michaela
5, December 1865
Jackson,
What are ya up too, yah crazy fool? I haven't heard from yah since I left Colorado Springs. I got some news for yah. I'm gonna be a papa! Can ya believe it? Who would a though! So when ya gonna settle down? Are ya still seein' that one woman? She was a real looker! Best of luck with that one.
Ben
27, December 1865
Momma & Pap
Thank you for the wonderful Christmas gifts you sent. I hope mine reached you in time for the holidays. The grandfather clock looks great in the parlor next to the fireplace. Business will be slowing down soon with the drop in temperature. January would be a great time to visit. Let me know.
Jackson
1, January 1866
Dearest Michaela,
I hope the new year finds you in good health. The annual Christmas charity ball was absolutely beautiful this year, and the only flaw was your absence. I have been very busy as of late, planning the spring flower show for the hospital. Your sisters have been a tremendous help, and I don't know what I would do if they were not here. It's times like these when I miss you the most. I have heard from Lillian, and it seems as though you and Jackson are becoming quite close. I do hope you settle down with him Michaela. He could provide so much for you. He knows how to treat you. He's a good man and a fine match.
Mother
20, March 1866
Dear Rebecca,
I don't know how she does it. Mother is across the country, thousands of miles away, and she can still infuriate me. How dare she meddle in my personal affairs. I love Colorado Springs, and I have no intention on leaving anytime soon, and you may tell her so.
Michaela.
8, May 1866
Mr. Jackson Tate,
This is Bellman's Jewelers, and we would like to inform you that the ring you ordered has arrived. You may pick up at your earliest convenience.
Thank you,
The Bellman Team
10, May 1866
Momma,
This is it! This is the day that I'm going to ask Mike to marry me. I hope she makes me the happiest man alive and says yes! Wish me luck!
Jackson
11, May 1866
Telegram
Mrs. Elizabeth Quinn
24 Fairsgrove Lane Beacon Hill
Boston Mass.
Jackson proposed.
And I've accepted.
Michaela