Chapter 13

"Dear are you alright?" Mrs. Tate asked again. "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"Oh God…" Michaela covered her face, shielding her view from the couple standing in front of her.

"Michaela, come on." Sully picked her up in his arms and opened the door of the clinic.

The Tate's looked at one another, wondering who the man was that seemed so familiar with their future daughter-in-law.

Sully turned back to the Tate's. "Why don't you come in? I'm going to take Michaela upstairs."

"Is everything alright?" Harold asked again.

Sully could feel Michaela quiver in his arms. "Well, I'll be down in a second." He turned to go up the stairs, and when he got to the base, Michaela shifted in his arms.

"Stop," she whispered. "Close the door."

Sully set her down on top of the step and closed the door between the hall and the clinic.

"What's wrong?" He sat next to her, taking her hand.

"What's wrong…what's wrong?" her voice cracked. "Sully how…what…do I tell them? What do I say? This…this is such a nightmare!"

He gulped, "I can tell them if you want."

"No." She looked into his eyes. "I have to tell them."

"Are ya sure?" He squeezed her hand.

"I've…I've done this before." She thought back to her medical days.

"Michaela, this is different. You know it is."

"I have to do this." She got up. "Sully, I can't very well leave them out there waiting." She placed her hand on the doorknob.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Nobody is ever ready." She opened the door.

Michaela turned into the main room of the clinic and saw the Tate's sitting on the bench near the window. They were quietly talking, and when they saw Michaela, they quickly stood to their feet.

"No, please." Michaela held up her hand.

"Dr. Quinn, what is going on?"

Michaela took a deep breath, trying to control her reeling mind. "There's been an accident."

"Accident?" Lillian looked at her husband. "What kind of accident?"

Tears once again formed in her eyes. How was she going to do this? She felt the sickness rise from her stomach, and her eyes traced the outline of her desk. "I…I was standing in the middle of…of the street. And I didn't…I didn't hear the stage coming. It happened so fast!" Her strong façade began to crumble.

Lillian grabbed her husband's hand. "Dear, you're scaring me. What is it?"

"He tried to push me out of the way…" she sobbed, trying to catch her breath.

"Who pushed you out of the way? Harold asked.

Her lips quivered, trying to make her words come through them. "Jack…Jackson" she quaked. "He tried to save my life.

"What are you saying?" Lillian held her hand over her heart.

"I…I should never have-"

"Where's my son!" Lillian wiggled from her husbands grasp.

"It's my fault-"

"What are you saying?" Lillian shouted.

"Lilly…" Harold put his arm around her shoulder and looked to the doctor. "Our son was hit by the stage." He said more of a fact than a question.

"Yes…" she whispered.

"Jackson…where is he?" Lillian cried out.

Trying to catch her breath, Michaela brushed the tears out of her eyes. And when she looked up, she saw Sully watching her from the doorway. She didn't know if she had anymore left in her. The words just wouldn't come out.

"Michaela, please." Lillian's voice shook, and her motherly instincts starting to kick in. "He's hurt, isn't he?"

"Mrs. Tate-"

"Is he upstairs?" She started for the doorway. "My husband can check him."

"Lillian-" Harold stopped her.

"I want to see my son." She looked to her husband.

Harold turned back to Michaela. "Jackson's not alright, is he?"

"Harold!" Lillian's heart broke at her husband's question. "Of course he's alright," she sighed. "Tell him! Michaela, tell him that my son is alright!"

Michaela couldn't take it anymore. Her fists balled at her sides, and she let it out. "Jackson was hit by the stage a few minutes ago."

At that very moment everything came together for Lillian. "Our…our stage!" she burst forth. "The driver fell asleep and fell off just outside of town! And…and we were going…so…so fast! I thought we hit something, but we just kept on going! OH DEAR GOD! No! JACKSON!" Lillian fell to her knees. "JACKSON!"

"Lillian!" Harold tried to keep his grasp on her, holding her to his chest. as they both sat on the floor.

After several grueling seconds Lillian looked up to Michaela with eyes that pierced her heart. "Is…is my son dead?"

Michaela bit back her tears; she knew the words wouldn't come out, so she did the only thing she could do. She shook her head yes.

"NO!" Lillian broke down completely. "I killed my son!"

"Oh Mrs. Tate, no-" Michaela bent down to place her hand on her back. "It wasn't your fault. If it's anyone's…it's mine."

Lillian looked into Michaela's eyes. "Where is he? Where's Jackson?"

"They took him to the church," she told them. "I can take you over there if you like."

Harold picked his wife up and kept a steady arm around her. "We'd like a few moments alone with our son, please. I'm sure we can find our way to the church."

Michaela nodded and looked at Mrs. Tate. Her head was sobbing in the crook of her husbands shoulder.

"We'll be back later."

She nodded again and watched the couple slowly walk out of her clinic. Michaela collapsed into her chair and covered her face with her hand and began to weep. She jumped when she felt two strong arms engulf her, drawing her into a tight embrace. She was about to back away, but she knew it was Sully, and for that moment, she wanted the comfort his arms brought her.

"Shhh…it's gonna be alright." He stroked her hair.

"I…I can't believe this happened." She continued to sob. 'Why…"

"It's hard to say." Sully fought the words that he was thinking inside. He asked himself everyday why his wife had to die.

"I feel so guilty." Her stomach began to churn.

"No…" Sully let her go and brought his hands to her cheeks. "This isn't your fault. You had no way of knowing he'd try to do what he did."

"But, I shouldn't have been standing in the street!"

"Michaela, it isn't a crime to be standing in the street." He tried to reason with her. "There are a million people we could blame. Maybe if I would have gotten to ya sooner, or Jackson. Or if the driver wouldn't have fallen asleep, or if someone would have tried to stop the stage before it came into town. Michaela, the blame could go on forever. Ya can't let yourself be consumed by it." He swallowed. "I don't think Jackson would want ya t'."

"They're never going to want to look at me again." Michaela glanced out the window, watching the Tate's make their way over to the church. "I don't blame them."

"I don't think they blame ya, Michaela."

"How can you say that?" she wondered. "Of course they do."

"No they don't, because if they did, they would have come out and said it. Michaela, they don't blame ya. I could see it in their eyes. Especially Mr. Tate. He saw how you were. He knows."

"How can you be so sure, Sully? How?"

His words had doubling meaning. "How could anyone blame you?"

"Sully…"

"I'm serious." He once again held her in his arms. "I'm serious."

March 1867

"Oh my goodness! Slow down! I'm going to fall!" Michaela laughed.

"If we don't hurry we won't get there in time!"

"It's getting late. It will be dark soon," she warned.

He stopped and held her in his arms. "What are ya afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid! I'm just saying-" She was stopped when his lips touched hers.

"You were just sayin?"

"I…I…umm…forgot," she smiled sheepishly, laying into his embrace. "I forgot," she laughed even harder.

"I love you," he chuckled.

She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her torso. "I love you too, Sully."

"Come on." He grabbed her hand. "The sun's settin."

Following Sully through the woods and up to the peak of "their" mountain, Michaela savored the time they had together. Just a few more weeks, she thought to her self. Just a few more weeks. Inhaling the fresh air, Michaela looked out to the vast land at her feet. "It's so beautiful."

"It sure is." Sully stared deeply into her eyes.

"Sully, you're not even watching." She poked his side.

"I can see it in your eyes."

"Sully…" She rolled her eyes.

Slowly, he moved behind her and wrapped his arms snugly around her tiny waist. "Any word today?"

Michaela looked down and then back to the horizon. "No," she whispered. "They're not coming, Sully."

"Then we'll go there," he offered.

"Sully, you don't want to go to Boston."

"But you do. I know what that would mean to you."

"We already have everything planned here."

"Just a little weddin' in the church. I'm sure the reverend wouldn't mind."

"As much as I want to go to Boston, Sully, I truly do want to be married here at home," she tried to convince him.

He squeezed her a little tighter. "I know ya do, but I also know you and how much your family means t' ya. I know ya want them there for our weddin'."

She continued took look at the falling sun. "I guess I'm just afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Sully…" She tried to bring up the sensitive topic. "You know why mother isn't coming."

"Michaela." He turned her around. "That's all the more reason t' go. I know what it means t' ya t' get her blessin. Someday down the road from now, I don't want ya regrettin' that ya married-"

"Oh, Sully. No! I would never regret marring you. I love you. You know that. It's just that I…I feel that she's always been so disappointed in me. I just want to show her that the decisions I've made in my life are for me…to make me happy, not to just get back at her. She's always thought that. I just want her to know how happy I am. How incredibly happy I am."

"Well, considerin' how she was the last time she was here, that may take awhile."

Michaela sighed and looked away.

"Hey…hey, I was just kiddin'. I just mean we should probably get t' Boston soon. Because I'm getting antsy t' marry you," he smiled.

"You don't have to do this for me, you know."

"You're exactly who I'm doin' it for." He smiled, lightly kissing her on the forehead.

April 30th 1863

"Abby, it's been a week!" Sully moaned. "You're gonna have t' hold Hannah sometime."

"Sully, I'm busy. I have a headache!" She clutched her temples.

"I have a headache too, ya know. I've been staying here all-"

Abby cut him off. "And you think I've been having fun. The army's been here three times this week tryin' to get me to talk to them."

"Abby-"

"And now, they're tellin' me that some man name Mitchell is fighting against me. I don't know who he is Sully. I don't even know what I'm doin' anymore!"

"Abby, I told you we have a strong case against the Army; we can prove this was self defense."

"I think that it might be better if I just go away for awhile. I have an aunt in San Francisco, and she-"

"Go away? What are ya sayin'?"

"I…I think that it might be better for both of us…for you…if I went away for awhile."

"Better for me!" He was flabbergasted. "What about Hannah?"

"What about her?"

"You're her mother, Abby!" He tried to break through to her.

"She doesn't need me. Besides, you're doin' fine with her."

"Fine…Fine! I don't wanna be doin' fine! I want you here with me, raising OUR daughter. Abby this whole thing will blow over. I promise ya, it's gonna be fine…we're gonna be fine."

"I don't know, Sully. I don't know about anything anymore. I wish that I would just wake up…that this was just some horrible nightmare."

May 17th 1866

"The day I came back and found Michaela was engaged to ya...well, I can't say I was happy." Sully looked down to the granite stone before him.

"I know I hurt her. And I had no right to even come back and think she'd forgive me. She had every right to move on with her life and..." he hesitated. "I guess what I'm tryin' t' say is…I'm glad you were there for her." Swallowing hard he studied the stone once again. "She loved ya, she did. And I know ya treated her right. She told me. You probably know by now what she was coming to tell ya. And for the life of me I don't know what she was thinkin'. I can't offer her the things that you coulda. But I can love her. And I do. It took me a while to admit it, and I know I was selfish, and I don't know how she can forgive me for the things I said." Sully stopped at looked around, noticing a few members of the town watching him. Becoming nervous, he turned back to the head stone. "Michaela's feelin' real mixed up right now. She's afriad t' open up t' love again, because she always gets hurt. And I can't blame her. But I ain't goin' away this time. I'm goin' t' help her through this. And I guess what I'm sayin' is…I'm gonna take care of her. I just wanted ya to know that, 'cause I know ya loved her, and I would want to know someone was watchin' out for her, carin' for her. And I'm sayin' this because I respect ya. If you were here, I'd hope ya'd do the same thing. Ya made her happy, and that's all that matters.

Sully gave one last look at the marker and turned to go back into town. He wanted to give Michaela some time to talk to the Tate's. They hadn't talked much in the past couple of days until they came in this morning wanting to talk with her. She had been so afraid of what they might say to her. He could only hope that it would be good and give her a sense of peace.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

"My wife and I will be catching the first stage out tomorrow morning. Lillian and I would like to return home…be with family."

"I…I understand," Michaela nodded.

Lillian closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Michaela…" she began.

Michaela looked to Lillian in surprise. She hadn't talked to her since she left her clinic the day Jackson was killed.

"Michaela, you don't know how many times I wished this was some…some horrible nightmare."

Michaela shook her head. "I know what you mean."

Lillian looked out the window trying to gain her thoughts. "I know my son loved you very much. In his letters, he wrote so highly of you. In fact, most of his letters were entirely about you."

Looking down Michaela smiled to herself. "I loved him too."

Lillian looked to her husband. "May I have a few minutes alone with Michaela?"

"Sure. I'll be just outside." Harold turned to look back at Michaela. "Take care of yourself dear, and do stay in touch."

Exhaling, Michaela smiled toward him. "I will."

As soon as Harold closed the door, Lillian turned back to Michaela. "I had a choice to make."

"Pardon me?" Michaela didn't understand.

"I could either hate you and blame you for what happened…"

"Or…" Michaela tilted her head to the side.

Lillian exhaled and looked Michaela straight in the eye. "Or I could listen to my heart' listen to what Jackson would say to me. Remember how much he loved you…Michaela, I could never hate someone my son loved so much.

"Mrs. Tate-"

"Let me finish." She held up her hand. "Jackson also wrote me about this Mr. Sully fellow."

"He did?" Michaela was amazed.

"Michaela, I've seen the way that man looks at you. It was the same way Harold used to look at me when we were courting-"

"Sully and I aren't courting," Michaela interjected.

"Michaela," Lillian rose her voice. "Please, just listen," she softened. "I have no doubt in my mind that you loved my son. But… you weren't going to marry him, were you?"

"Mrs. Tate, you have to understand. So many things happened before Jackson came into my life."

"Did you love, Mr. Sully?"

Realizing she had to be honest, Michaela shook her head. "Yes, I did love him, but at the time we…we couldn't be together. Mrs. Tate, I loved Jackson, I did. But I don't believe I could love him the way he deserved. Please try to understand." Michaela moved closer to Lillian, hoping she could convey her feelings better. "The night Jackson proposed, I was going to say yes, I was. But he told me to think about it and tell him my answer when he returned from his trip. And that's…that's when Sully came back." She felt guilty. "And I realized that I loved Sully all along. And I couldn't do that to Jackson. I couldn't lead him on. And the thing was, I didn't even know if Sully felt the same way about me. We parted on such bad terms."

"That's what Jackson told me," Lillian remarked.

"I know that I was being selfish, but I could never marry someone if…if I knew I loved someone else…someone more." Michaela finally broke down.

"Dear child…" Lillian picked up her chin. "You're only human…a human with feelings and a conscious…much like your mother's, may I add."

"Mother?"

"Yes… but that's a story for another time," she smiled. "Michaela please don't be so hard on yourself."

"How can you even-"

"My son was a good man, and if he picked you to be his wife, then I trust his judgment. Besides I know your family, and I know what you stand for. And I know that Jackson would want you to be happy above anything else. And…if this Mr. Sully makes you happy, then that would make him happy."

Michaela smiled and wrapped her arms around Lillian. "You're an amazing woman."

"You'll stay in touch, won't you?" Lillian asked.

"Oh, yes."

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

"In sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our Brother, Jackson Tate, and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust; The Lord bless him and keep him, the lord make his face to shine upon him and be glorious unto him and give him peace. Amen."

The words echoed through her head as the last of the mourners made their way through the cemetery. It was now just her. She was alone. She stood at the foot of his head stone.

Jackson Samuel Tate

August 23rd 1836 - May 15th 1866

Beloved son and friend to all who knew him

Do believe I'll never leave you:
Always I'll be in your heart.
Don't forget my soul is near you:
Death might take my presence from you,
Yet we'll never be apart.

She read it again, making sure she understood it. His epitaph…it wasn't there before. During the funeral…it wasn't there. "Yet we'll never be apart," what did that mean? Who was it for?

The wind silently blew through the willow trees, blowing her black skirt in the wind like waves billowing in the sea.

"Jackson, I'm so sorry this had to happen to you…" Michaela brushed the tear that fell from her eye. "You shouldn't have tried to push me out of the way. It should have been me." Michaela dropped the bundle of flowers onto his grave and the rain began to pour. Just like it had on the day Jackson died. The wind turned bitterly cold and Michaela wrapped her shawl tightly around her. Taking her eyes off the flowers Michaela looked back up and she was startled to see two brown eyes staring back at her.

"You're right. It should have been you…"