Chapter 4

September 1870 - Colorado Springs

"Doctor? What're you talkin' about? We can't afford no doctor," Loren Bray huffed, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "We just about spent all the treasury fixin' this town up when the train came. We can't afford to pay no doctor."

"But, Hank's got a point."

"For once," Jake murmured. "I been doin' all the doctorin' for years." It was a miracle he was sitting there at that moment. The men had tried to sober him up as best as they could, but he was still a little out of sorts.

"Yeah, but what do ya expect us to do when you're drunk, Jake?" Hank asked. "I nearly got myself cut in a fight this mornin'. I coulda bled to death, and you would've known no different. You were still passed out on my floor! And what about the fella that got shot this mornin'? You were too drunk to get the bullet out of him. He died right there on my floor. That's bad for business, and ya know it."

"Hank does have a point. We need a doctor who can be there for…every occasion," Reverend Johnson spoke up. "I believe that if we try our best to donate every Sunday, even the smallest amount, we'll have enough to pay for a good doctor." He briefly glanced toward Loren. "You never know when we might have an emergency. We might need a doctor when you least expect it." Loren looked away and sighed hotly.

"I'm tellin' ya right now…we can't afford no doctor."

"I'm sorry, Loren," Grace Smith spoke up, placing her hand on her heavily pregnant stomach. "We can't afford not to have one."

September 1870 – Boston

"He should be resting comfortably now," Michaela said softly, closing her medical bag. One of the hardest parts about being a doctor was trying to keep someone comfortable during their last days of life.

"You were wonderful with him," Dr. Webber said quietly, as they walked away from the sleeping man's bed. His heart was weak, and there was only so much more they could do for him. Dr. Webber didn't expect him to make it through the end of the week, and sadly, Michaela agreed with his evaluation.

"When I decided to become a doctor," she began, as he opened the door for her, "I wanted to help people. The last thing on my mind was watching someone die. I wanted to save them. I wanted to perform miracles." She frowned, as she and Dr. Webber began walking down the corridor. "The first patient I ever treated died before he ever opened his eyes."

"You do perform miracles, Michaela…Dr. Quinn."

"That's all right. We did grow up together, so I suppose it's silly to be so formal, Landon," she said with a smile. "Besides, I don't see how you can say that." She had confidence in herself, but she couldn't say she was a miracle worker. She had wanted to be one, but after years of treating patients and saving lives, she knew that the real miracle workers were the patients. They were the ones who had to endure the pain and the sickness, and they were the ones who fought so hard to live.

"When you came in to sit with him, his eyes lit up. He hasn't smiled like that in weeks. You have such a way with patients, Michaela. You're…you're a sight to watch." Michaela's cheeks grew red, and she continued ahead. "I remember working with you when your father was alive. I believe we grew up wanting to be doctors together." Michaela nodded, her mind still transfixed on her first patient.

"After that man died…the reality of the situation…made me want to be a doctor even more. I wanted to make people comfortable. I wanted them to be at peace if there was nothing else I could do for them." Landon smiled, his eyes twinkling like emeralds in the sunlight.

"That's what makes you such a wonderful doctor. You get to the heart of people…their souls. You make them feel better merely by talking with them; asking them about their lives. Your patients are lucky to have you." Michaela said nothing, and she glanced over at him when he cleared his throat. "Would you join me for lunch? That is…if you don't have any other plans."

"Plans?" Michaela thought about Sully. Her mother had errands to do, and she was dragging Sully along with her. She knew she'd be returning to an empty house, and she didn't like the idea of that. Landon was decent company, and they were good friends. Secretly, her heart wished that she was having lunch with Sully. She missed him. She missed him more knowing that he was in the same city and so close. She knew that she could be spending each moment with him, but instead, she was working and having lunch with someone so completely different. "I don't believe so. That would be nice, Landon. Thank you."

Landon offered his arm to her, and she nervously looped hers through his. Why did she feel like she was betraying someone?

"Are you all right, Michaela?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You don't seem yourself today. I hope I'm not keeping you from something." Michaela shook her head. If Sully wanted to talk to her, he wouldn't have insisted that she go with Dr. Webber. That was her decision, and she was sticking to it.

"No. You're not keeping me, Landon. Not at all." She turned her lips into a smile for a moment, and when he looked away, she tried to find a reason for feeling so guilty.

September 1870 – Boston

Late afternoon had settled in, and Sully was sitting outside on the steps of the Quinn home. He'd spent the entire afternoon with Elizabeth, and she had pretty much given him a tour of the city. He remembered some of it, but a lot of things had changed since he was there last. Now, he was sitting on the cold steps, shivering in his coat, as he waited for Michaela's return. He needed to see her. He didn't know what it was, but his thoughts were gnawing and torturing him. He'd regretted not spending the day with her ever since she had walked out that door. The sound of the door latch clicking into place had been so final, and it was driving him crazy.

When he saw her walking up the path alone, his heart swelled. He stood and brushed off his pant legs. Michaela's eyes met his, and she smiled softly.

"Sully. You were waiting for me?" He cleared his throat, moving toward the door.

"Ah, no. I just came out for some fresh air."

"Mother can be a handful sometimes," Michaela replied with a grin. Sully looked behind her.

"Dr. Webber didn't come with ya?" He tried to control the distrust in his voice. Dr. Webber seemed like a nice man, but nobody was good enough for Michaela.

"He had a patient to see after we went to lunch."

"Ya already ate?" She could hear the disappointment in his voice, and she frowned.

"Not really," she laughed. "As soon as we sat down at the restaurant, he actually remembered that he had a patient. So, we left before we could order." Sully wasn't laughing, and she shifted nervously, waiting for him to speak again.

"So…ya must be hungry?" Michaela nodded.

"I am. If you'd like to join me for lunch…there's a little place down the street."

"Sounds good, but Rose already started makin' us a picnic basket. She started doin' that 'bout the time your ma left for some…meetin'." He felt embarrassed that he hadn't paid much attention. He'd been too focused on Michaela coming home that he'd pretty much forgotten anything that had come out of Elizabeth's mouth. Michaela smiled slowly and nodded. She decided not to think about the way he had acted at breakfast that morning. She wanted to enjoy the time they had together and not spend it arguing. She hated seeing him so upset, and at the moment, he seemed happy. That's all she wanted for him. Happiness.

June 1855 – Colorado Springs

"Byron Sully! Get back here!" Abagail Bray exclaimed, as Sully ran off with one of her schoolbooks. "My pa is gonna skin you alive!" Sully said nothing, and he hurried toward the creek. He was delighted when he heard her running behind him, her skirt flapping in the wind. "Sully! Get back here!"

"Gotta catch me first!" he yelled back.

"You're makin' me mad!" That delighted him even more. When he stopped at the creek bed, he caught his breath. He was the fastest runner in Colorado Springs, and at fifteen, he could do things much easier than many of the boys his age. He did farm work, worked at the livery, and even trapped to make his money. He lived alone, though he spent many nights staying warm with the Cheyenne. They were his family, and the only people in Colorado Springs who really accepted that were Abagail and her mother Maude. For the most part, her father Loren didn't have a problem with him, but he was always cautious about anyone who had an interest in his baby girl; his pride and joy. Sully and Abagail had been friends for a while, though everyone around them could tell they were sweet on each other.

She made it into the clearing, and she crossed her arms, glaring at him intensely with those eyes that could be misconstrued for wicked. She didn't have a wicked bone in her body, but she sure was a spitfire!

"Glad ya could make it," he said quietly, feeling awkward now. He'd lured her there, and now he was at a loss for what to do.

"Give me my book," she demanded, holding her hand out. "I swear, I'll tell my pa, and he'll take a switch to you. He don't care you ain't his son. I'll tell him ya made me run all the way out here, and he'll be good and ready to come after you." Sully held back a laugh.

"Your pa likes me, Abby."

"Not if I tell 'im…"

"Tell him what?" he asked.

"Tell him you pushed me in the creek!" She started running toward the water, but Sully reached out, catching her.

"Ya wouldn't do that."

"Oh, I wouldn't?"

"Nope."

"Why don't you think so?"

"'Cause ya liked chasin' me out here." Abagail rolled her eyes and pushed herself out of his arms.

"You're awfully sure of yourself." She grabbed her book and started to walk away.

"Well, my plan worked, didn't it?"

"What plan?" she asked, turning to him.

"To get ya out here."

"Of course it did. You had my History book!" she huffed. Sully grinned. "And I got a test to study for!"

"I think ya wanted to chase me out here."

"Why do you think that?"

"'Cause I was out behind the schoolhouse earlier, and I heard ya talkin' with Anna Simms. I heard what ya said about me," he teased. Abagial's eyes went wide, and she blushed furiously.

"Byron Sully, I'm going to get you for that!" She threw her book down and came at him, her dainty fist tight at her side. But, he caught her, and she struggled for only a moment. His fingers tickled her sides, and laughter burst forth from her lips. He grinned, letting her, go, and she continued laughing for a little while. When she finally caught her breath, the anger was gone, and a smile spread across her face.

"You're the only boy who could make me chase him all the way out to this murky creek, Sully. I hope ya know that." Sully looked toward the creek.

"Swim with me."

"Swim? In this? Sully, you know this water ain't fit enough for anything but dousin' fires." She giggled. "But, I will walk with you, and I'll let ya carry my books, if ya promise ya won't run off with 'em."

"I promise," he said, holding up his hand. She grinned, and slipped her hand into his. Before they left, he snuck a quick kiss to her cheek, and that was all it took for her to fall in love.

September 1870 – Boston

Michaela couldn't hide her disappointment as the rain clouds blocked out the sun and showered fresh rain down on the city.

"So much for our picnic," she said quietly. Sully was still in the kitchen, helping Rose pack the rest of the picnic basket. Rose and Martha were good friends, and Rose was just as trusted by the Quinn family as Martha was. Whenever Martha needed time off, Rose would step in.

"Michaela?" Michaela turned from the window just as thunder rumbled overhead. Sully already saw the disappointment in her eyes, and he found trouble hiding his own. But then again, he had other plans.

"It looks as if we've been rained in," she said quietly. "Perhaps we'll have a picnic some other time."

"We got a perfectly good one right here," Sully replied, showing the heavily packed basket to Michaela. "No use wastin' a perfectly good meal." Michaela furrowed her brows.

"Where do you suggest we eat it?" Sully looked around the parlor, and he smiled.

"How 'bout here?"

"Here?" Sully nodded.

"Why not?"

"Because, it's…I've never had a picnic inside before."

"Neither have I. There's a first time for everything," Sully replied, placing the picnic basket down on the floor. Michaela grinned.

"There certainly is," she laughed. Sully sat down, and he reached for her hand. When her fingers touched his, sparks moved from his heart to hers, and they held each other's gaze for a moment. As she lowered herself to the floor, he saw her open herself up to him, making them both more vulnerable, as they sat across from one another. The innocence showed in her pale features; her sparkling eyes. The pain of years of separation clung tightly in the air, suffocating them both. His heart felt heavy, and the unspoken truth between them was that they had missed out on so much time. They could have done this a hundred times over, but fate just hadn't let it be that way.

Sully served Michaela first and then himself, and they ate quietly for a while, not daring to look at one another. It was as if an invisible force had come into the room, making each other's presence difficult for one another. They could feel each other. He could feel her nervousness; her anxiety. She could feel his pain and his need to move on. They were both trapped in a certain part of their own lives, not yet ready to take the next step. For Michaela, it was one step in one direction, and for Sully, it was an entirely different step in a different direction.

Neither were certain what to say to one another, but they made an unspoken decision and remained silent, trying to enjoy the afternoon; trying to forget about the past and the future.

October 1860 – San Francisco

As they turned up the path to the hotel doors, Michaela noticed a change in Sully's appearance. He looked sad and distant now. Something was wrong, but she didn't feel that it was her place to ask him.

"Thank you for everything, Sully. Despite the fact that you chased me down the beach, I had a lovely time." Sully smiled a little, and looked up.

"Just remember. The North Star always guides ya home."

"I'll remember that," she said with a grin. "Thank you." She dug into her money pouch. "I'll pay you for your troubles." He placed his hand over hers, clasping the purse shut. She sucked in a quick, sharp breath before turning her eyes up to meet his.

"No need." Michaela sighed softly.

"Well, if you change your mind."

"I won't. I don't change my mind much at all."

"About anything?" He smiled.

"About most things." He took her hand and instead of kissing it, he shook it. "It was nice meetin' ya." Michaela was impressed. Most men would have immediately kissed her hand. Most of them thought she'd be flattered by it. She liked how he didn't treat her any differently. She liked how he was protective yet different than other men. She didn't know anything about him, but she knew that there was something holding him back from getting too close.

"Well, goodnight, Sully." He nodded.

"Night." He watched as she disappeared inside the hotel and out of his life for what he expected to be forever.