Chapter 8

July 1860 – Colorado Springs

Cries in the background added fuel to the fire of Abagail's rage. Her face was red and stained with tears, and her hair was a mess. Sully had just gotten home from the reservation, and he'd found her like this. He hadn't known how to help her, and he'd quickly learned that his efforts weren't helping at all.

"I'm sorry, Abby. What else do ya want?" He was tired. They were up every night with a screaming baby, she was picking up after the children all day while he did his own work, trying to keep the bills paid. It wasn't easy, and Abagail never failed to remind him of how much he missed when he was gone.

"I don't know, Sully. I don't know what I want anymore. I love you. I love our babies. I just…everything happened so fast. We rushed into getting married, and we rushed into havin' babies." She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to control her tears, but it didn't work. Sully slowly leaned against the table, trying to process his wife's words.

"I'm givin' ya a choice, Abby. Do ya wanna keep goin' on like this? Do ya want us to have a marriage or not?" Fresh tears, hotter than before, spilled down her cheeks.

"Of course I do! I love you more than anybody, Sully! I just…I can't help it!" The cries in the background were growing louder, though Lily and Hanna tried their best to quiet their little brother.

"Can't help what?"

"I…maybe if ya hadn't met me…you'd have found somebody else that could make ya happier." Sully sighed heavily and placed his hand down on the table loudly, causing Johnny to cry louder in the background. Sully softened, and he moved around the table, taking his wife gently in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he smoothed down her hair, kissing the top of her head.

"How many times do I gotta tell ya, Abby? You make me happy. You're the one I love. You're the one I want to be my wife. Nobody else. You're all I want." Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she sniffled.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I'm acting. With the baby and everything, I haven't slept…" She pulled away, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. Sully handed her a handkerchief to wipe her nose.

"I know I shoulda been here more. They really needed me at the reservation." Abagail's eyes studied his for a moment. It was only a few years ago that he'd been a carefree fifteen-year-old young man. Here he was five years later, a husband, a father of three and a friend to a nation that truly needed a friend like him.

"I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry I've been actin' like a silly hen." Sully shook his head.

"Ya haven't. Ya got every right to be upset with me. I'll be home more. You and the kids…you're my family. You need me now." Sadly, Abagail swallowed her tears and sighed.

"But…even so…they're still your family too. They always will be." She moved toward him, gently pressing her trembling lips against his. When she pulled back, she smiled sadly and hurried off to take care of Johnny's needs. Sully sighed and walked into the living room, where his little girls were now seated quietly on the floor. Abby had taken a seat in the rocking chair, and Johnny was now nursing quietly at her breast.

"Papa," Hanna said with a bright smile. "Ya home." She reached her arms up, but he sat down on the floor and pulled her into his lap.

"That's right, darlin'. I'm home." He glanced up, trying to catch Abagail's gaze, but her eyes were transfixed on their newborn son. He wished he could help her. He wished there was something he could do for her that he hadn't already done, but being home was better than nothing, right?

September 1870 – Boston

"We'd been fighting' a lot. Things weren't good after Johnny was born," he pointed out. "Abby was cryin' all the time. She'd be happy one minute and sad the next. I thought that was s'posed to end after the baby came." Michaela frowned, as she poured him a glass of water at the counter in the kitchen. "The Cheyenne were havin' a hard time, and I couldn't just sit by and watch. I was helping 'em, and they were grateful. I felt really bad for leavin' home so much, but Abby always told me things were fine. When I'd get home, Lily and Hanna would need baths, Abby would be curled up on the bed cryin', and Johnny'd be screamin' in his cradle." He sighed heavily. "I tried to help her, but she always said she was fine. She said she didn't want anyone to know. She always thought…she thought she wasn't a good wife or mother 'cause of it. 'Course I told her that wasn't true, but she didn't believe me."

"It's not uncommon after a birth. Some women suffer through bouts of…of sadness."

"This wasn't like anything I'd seen. She was havin' nightmares. She was screamin' at night and scarin' the kids. When she'd wake up in the mornin', she wouldn't remember a thing. I didn't know how to help her, but I thought…if I was just there more like I promised, everything would get better."

"It didn't," Michaela concluded. Sully shook his head.

"It was my fault."

"How was it your fault?" Michaela wondered.

"I shoulda got her help. I shoulda hired somebody to come talk to her…even if she'd have hated me for it."

"You couldn't have known, Sully. I'm sure those you did talk to told you it was normal." Sully nodded.

"In most cases it is, but Abagail seems to have had a severe form."

"I shoulda got her help. Instead…I just…I thought she was getting better. That's why I left the night Cloud Dancin' came for me. I didn't think it'd do any harm. I let 'em all down." He sighed heavily. "The night I kissed ya on the beach…I could feel the ring against my chest, and I could hear her tellin' me she'd always be with me. Then I started thinkin' it was too early. I couldn't be feelin' the things I was. It was too soon. It wasn't right." Michaela swallowed hard and looked down into her glass of water. "I never counted on meetin' you. Ya turned out to be the best friend I could ever have. I don't want…what happened last night to change it. I didn't know what I was thinkin'." He looked down, and she knew he was hiding his true feelings, but she was afraid to say so. She was having trouble dealing with her own feelings, and she wasn't sure if she could handle his right now either.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Sully. What happened happened. I'm not upset with you," she said quietly.

"I burned the ring, 'cause I thought it'd free me. I shouldn't have done it. I shoulda kept it." He watched her; studied her. Would she realize why he wanted to be free?

"Sully, I think you did the right thing. You want to move on. You're trying. That's a start."

"Michaela…about last night…I was just…tryin' to convince myself I could move on." He was making excuses for the kiss? "I just didn't think, and I…I'm sorry." With each word he spoke, Michaela felt her heart break a little more. He could see it in her eyes. He was hurting her, and he didn't want that. He didn't want to lie to her, and all his self-protection was doing was breaking her down a little bit at a time. He didn't want to tell her that he didn't care. But that was his way of protecting her. He couldn't let what happened to Abagail happen to Michaela too.

At that moment, Harrison walked in, and he cleared his throat.

"Miss Quinn…Dr. Landon Webber is here. He would like to speak with you." Michaela turned to Sully, not sure of how to react; how he would react.

"Go on. I'll be here when ya get back." Michaela smiled slowly, and she followed Harrison out of the kitchen. Landon stood in the foyer with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Landon?" she asked, coming into sight. His face brightened, and he held the flowers out to her. She studied him for a moment before focusing her attention on the brightly colored flowers that awaited her.

"These are for you."

"For me? Why?" she asked, her cheeks filling with embarrassment and flattery.

"To thank you for your help yesterday," he replied. "You were wonderful."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," she said, smiling and biting her lower lip.

"I would. You were phenomenal," he replied. "And these are to say thank you." She finally accepted them, and she could smell the sweet scent of them in the air. But, she knew he wasn't there just for that. She figured it would take a little bit of prodding to expose his motive.

"You came all the way across town just to give me flowers?" she wondered, looking into his emerald eyes, seeing them sparkle, but not the way Sully's did.

"Well, not exactly." Michaela waited. "I came to ask you…if you'd join me for dinner tomorrow night." Michaela tried to hide her surprise, as Landon shifted nervously, a worried grin spreading over his face. He looked about as afraid of rejection as she was of this entire situation.

"Dinner?"

"Maybe a little dancing. What do you say?" Michaela was speechless. "Michaela, you don't have to feel obligated to accept. I just thought I'd treat you to a night out." She glanced back toward the kitchen, and she chewed on her bottom lip nervously. She wanted to spend as much time as she could with Sully, but she couldn't ignore every other aspect of her life, could she? She knew how she felt about Sully, but admitting it was a frightening thing. She didn't know how she could be feeling this way after so long. Seeing him again had brought it all back, and she could still feel his lips against hers on the beach that fateful night. Perhaps it wasn't what it seemed. Perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her. Seeing him again had probably rekindled these old feelings. Maybe it was her need to fix the past.

He wasn't ready. Neither was she. Whatever was meant to happen would happen in time. So, she smiled at Landon and nodded her head.

"That would be lovely. Thank you, Landon," she said with a smile. She couldn't help but feel her heart tighten and her eyes water. She wasn't supposed to feel this way, but she was. She didn't know what was happening, and she was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been in her entire life.

"I'll be here tomorrow night at seven thirty." Michaela nodded, and Landon let himself out. She watched him walk down the path, before she turned and went back to the kitchen. Sully looked up when she entered.

"What'd he want?" He then saw the bouquet of flowers in her hands, and he immediately knew what was going on. "Ya like him?" Michaela began searching for a vase and an answer.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"Do ya like him?"

"Well, of course I like him. We've been friends for years. He's a good man." Sully placed his glass of water on the counter and moved across the kitchen. He decided that he'd rather take her mind off of Landon instead of prodding her for further information. Something about that man set Sully off. Michaela was his friend. He figured that he was only being protective.

"What do ya wanna to today?" Michaela smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"I was planning to get caught up on a few charts," she replied, "unless you have something better planned." Sully shrugged, and he spotted the vase first. He took it down and handed it to her, their fingers touching for only a moment. She smiled up at him, waiting for his reply.

"We'll see."

September 1870 – Colorado Springs

Loren swept off the porch of the mercantile, watching the dust swirl up like smoke in the street. The children were running about, playing kick ball, annoying passersby who had better things to do, and that made him long for the days when he saw his little grand girls running around, chasing after their father. He hadn't heard from Sully in so long. He couldn't blame him for not coming home. He hadn't seen him since before the fire. He hadn't even seen him look him in the eyes. But the truth was that Sully needed to come home. It was time. He'd been gone far too long.

He felt pain in his shoulder, and he put the broom away. Normally, Maude would rub some salve on it, but she was gone now. They were all gone. They always left.

"Good day, Loren," Grace said with a smile, browsing through the apple bin on the porch.

"Grace," he said with a nod.

"How's everybody?"

"Just fine," he said with a nod. "Openin' the café late today?"

"I'm just pickin' up a few things for lunch," she replied with a smile. "That order of…oh!" She placed her hand on her swollen belly, and her basket dropped quickly to the ground, spilling out the few items it contained.

"Grace? You…you okay?"

"Oh, get Robert E.!" she exclaimed, feeling the pain rush through her.

"Oh my…oh God," he stammered. "Somebody get Robert E.!" Charlotte Cooper came walking out of the mercantile, and she spotted Grace's predicament.

"Oh my Lord!" she exclaimed. "Grace, let's get you over to the boardin' house."

"It ain't time!" Grace exclaimed. "Still three weeks away!"

"Everything's gonna be all right, darlin'. Just hold tight." She glanced at Loren. "Help me with her." Loren nodded and painfully helped Charlotte lead Grace to the boarding house. They were causing quite a scene, and by the time they reached the building, a crowd had formed, and Robert E. was fighting to break through it.

"Grace!"

"Robert E.!"

"You're gonna be all right, sugar! I'm gonna be right out here. You and our baby…are gonna be just fine." And with that, the door closed, but Grace's cries continued on, chilling Robert E. right to the bone. It was times like these when he wished they had a real doctor.

October 1860 – San Francisco

"You didn't kill them, Sully," Michaela said softly. "I'm sorry about what happened. Nobody deserves to go through that." Sully shook his head.

"Abby wanted more kids," he said quietly. "She wanted another boy, at least. She always felt guilty that the girls could team up on the boys." Michaela grinned a little. "It sounds like you have some very pleasant memories."

"It ain't right. She's s'posed to be here. I'm s'posed to have my family." Michaela gently tucked her arm around him.

"Come on, Sully. Let's start walking back to the hotel. Maybe it'll make you feel better." Sully didn't reply, but he stood, helping her up, and their eyes met again.

"Thanks for listenin' to me."

"I happen to be a wonderful listener when people take the time to talk to me." Sully smiled sadly, and he reached for her hand. She didn't pull away, because she knew that she was the only thing he had at this moment. That was a fragile, scary concept, and she only hoped that she wouldn't let him down.

September 1870 – Boston

"You certainly are learning your way around," Michaela laughed, as she hurried to catch up with Sully. They'd changed into more comfortable clothes, and Sully had led the way to the nearest park. A few children were playing, as watchful parents stood nearby. Michaela couldn't help but wonder if Sully was thinking of his family. But, she didn't ask questions when Sully stopped near a small pond. He put his coat on the ground for her to sit on. "Thank you."

"Mmhmm," he mumbled, helping her sit down.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"'Cause I know how much we both like water." He chuckled, and Michaela laughed at his comment.

"We always end up near the water," she said quietly. "It's starting to feel like home." Sully nodded, and Michaela studied his face, as he stared out across the pond. She smiled a little, noticing how he'd shaved the stubble from his chin. It was funny the things she noticed about him that she normally didn't. She could see the blue of his eyes from the side, and the curls of his hair were pushed back, as if he'd run his fingers through them.

She scooted closer to him, smelling his aftershave, and it was slightly intoxicating.

"You cold?" he wondered.

"No," she said dreamily, glancing out toward the water. "I'm fine."

"Lily loved the water," Sully said quietly.

"Hmm…" She smiled pleasantly, thinking about what Sully's children might have looked like. Would they have had his eyes? Would they have looked like their mother? Would his son have looked just like him? She could only begin to imagine.

"Abby was so scared to teach her how to swim," he said softly, his mouth turning up in a smile. He never smiled when he talked about them. He had never opened up to this side of his life before.

"I brought her into the creek with me one day, and she just started flappin' her arms, pretendin' to be a fish. I couldn't get her outta the water after that. I had to drag her out, and she'd scream all the way home. She loved bein' in the water. Abby got scared to death that she'd drown. She always worried. The worryin' didn't start 'til the babies came. I guess that part of her just…just turned on, and she didn't stop."

"I believe it's natural, Sully. My mother worries about me all of the time, and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. People who love you tend to worry."

"I guess you're right," he replied. Michaela looked back over the pond, a familiar feeling settling in. Finally, her eyes widened in recognition.

"Oh…Sully! Don't you remember this place?" Sully looked out over the pond. Something about it seemed familiar, and when he heard the laughter escape her mouth next, he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"I remember," he laughed. "It was what…back in '63?"

"I believe so," she replied. "That was the last time you were here. You pushed me in."

"Hey…"

"You did! I was soaking wet until we got home."

"I didn't push ya in. There was a bee on ya, and I was tryin' to get it for ya." Michaela shook her head.

"Don't pull that one on me, Byron Sully. I know better!" Sully laughed, and it felt so good.

"You sure looked funny comin' outta there. A couple little kids ran off screamin' somethin' about a monster." Michaela shook her head.

"That's not funny!" she laughed. "I could've caught pneumonia."

"It was a hundred degrees outside."

"It was not."

"Seemed like it." Michaela sighed quietly, her laughter tapering off. She thought about that day, and with that, the memories of that same night came crashing back. She closed her eyes for a few minutes, letting her heartbeat return to normal. When she opened her eyes again, Sully was watching her.

"I didn't see you the next morning," she whispered. "I didn't understand why you'd left without saying goodbye. When I found your note…I thought I'd done something to upset you." Sully sighed in recognition, remembering that night very clearly.

"Ya didn't," he replied quickly, his memories coming back to him like a flash of lightning. "Ya didn't do anythin' wrong." Michaela pulled her legs up a little, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin upon her knees. This wasn't what a proper Boston lady did, but with Sully, she could do anything.

July 1863 – Boston

He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling of the guest bedroom. He couldn't stop thinking about the way she'd looked that afternoon. She'd been so happy; her eyes bright and full of adventure and joy; her smile wider than he could remember. He'd let himself let go of the past that day and have fun. But, as soon as he'd heard her screams, as she splashed into the water, he could hear other screams from his past. It haunted him, and he could feel them with him.

When he closed his eyes, he saw their faces, and it felt like a knife tearing across his chest, ripping out his heart and lungs and taking away his reason for living…for breathing. But, when he saw Michaela's face, he felt better, and he felt guilty. How could he be feeling this way? Perhaps it was the upcoming anniversary of that night. Perhaps it was that his heart was finally moving on and letting him love again.

He did love her. He'd known it for a long time, but accepting it was something he couldn't do. He wasn't even sure what kind of love it was. He wouldn't let what had happened before happen again. He couldn't get closer, because when he got close and when he let himself live, everything went up in flames.

He couldn't take it any longer. He got up and pulled on his clothes, being as quiet as he could. He didn't want to wake anyone. It'd be better if he slipped out without seeing her. Seeing her would make it harder to leave.

With the agility of a deer, he slipped out of his room with his pack and started toward the staircase. He paused at her room, not sure if he should turn back. He placed his hand against the door, feeling her spirit, her life force. It tore him up, because he knew she'd wonder what she'd done wrong. She'd wonder why he'd left in the middle of the night. He couldn't hurt her that way.

Instead, he moved back to his room and pulled a piece of paper from his bedside drawer. He began to write, and he didn't know what he should say. He didn't know how to express himself to her in words. It was too hard, and he left it simple. When he was finished, he placed the paper flat against his pillow and hoped she'd find it in the morning.

He left the room, closing the door behind himself, and he stopped at her door again.

"Goodbye, Michaela," he whispered. With that, he was gone.

Meanwhile, Michaela couldn't sleep. She kept staring into the dark hearth, imagining the flames that usually burned there. Her eyes hurt, and her body was tired. But, she kept thinking about Sully. He'd been so wonderful that afternoon. He'd been fun and playful, and she'd never seen him that way before. The hurt seemed to have gone away, but somehow she knew it was only temporary.

Fighting consciousness was futile, so she stood and put on her robe. She tied it tightly around herself, despite the fact that it was scorching hot in the room. She couldn't breathe, and she needed to get out. It was as if the darkness of the room was nothing but smoke, forcing its way into her lungs.

When she made it out into the hall, she felt dizzy, and she closed the door. She leaned against it for a moment, and she caught her breath. Her heart was pounding, and she didn't know why. She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the damp roots. She smiled a little, thinking about that afternoon. She couldn't believe how comfortable she was with him. They'd been separated for nearly three years, yet when she'd seen him walking up that path a week before, she'd felt just as happy to see him as she was sad when he left.

Now, she found herself walking toward his room. She was being drawn there, but she knew it would be best if she didn't go. She couldn't stop herself. Her heart led her there, and her entire being was driven there. She couldn't explain it. She didn't know how to begin to explain the way her heart pounded around him; the way her cheeks flushed at the thought of him. He was her best friend, so why was she feeling like this?

She needed to talk to him. She needed to talk it out, because he was the only one. She wouldn't dare talk to anyone else about such a thing…not even her father.

Before she could stop herself, her hand was on the doorknob, and her other hand was pressed against the door. She knocked softly but received no response. She closed her eyes. What am I doing? As the door creaked open, Michaela's breath caught. She peered into the darkness, and she was surprised to see that he wasn't in his bed. Had he gone down to the kitchen? Where was he?

"Sully?" she whispered. She closed herself inside of his room, still smelling the cologne he'd used. She smiled a little, but she caught herself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, they fixed upon the pillow. A piece of paper lay there, and an immediate feeling of dread filled her body.

She forced herself across the room and sat down on his freshly made bed. She frowned, still feeling his warmth against the covers. She lit a lamp and began to read the note.

Michaela,

I had to leave. I couldn't say goodbye, because it's too hard. I hope you can forgive me. I'll send word to you as soon as I get the chance.

Sully

Michaela was in shock. She jumped up and hurried to the window. She could see him heading out to the stables. She couldn't let him go without saying goodbye. She found a pair of slippers and pulled them over her feet. She rushed out of his room, down the hall and down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She raced out of the back door, knowing it was a short cut.

"Sully!" she called out, hoping he'd hear her. Her feet throbbed, as they hit the cobblestone, and she continued on, hoping she wasn't too late.

By the time she reached the stables, her body was drenched in sweat, and her heart was about to beat its way out of her chest.

"Sully…"

"Miss Quinn?" the stable hand asked.

"Sully…where's Sully?"

"Your guest?" She nodded, panting. "He just left not three minutes ago."

"Which way?" she asked, pulling one of the horses from its stall. She climbed up as fast as she could without a stirrup to guide her. "Which way!"

"That way, Miss" he replied, pointing to the right. She started off. "Miss! Wait!" But she was already gone, tears stinging her cheeks. She couldn't let him go without saying goodbye…But when the rain began to pour, she swore she could hear the clicking of his horse's hooves on the cobblestones. For the first time in a long time, Michaela felt defeated. She slowly turned her horse and made her way back to the stables, not realizing that her heart was already starting to break.

September 1870 – Boston

"When I left, I wondered what you'd think when ya found it," Sully said quietly, glancing over at Michaela. He noticed the tears in her eyes, and a lump formed in his throat. Had he put those tears there? Was this his doing? Of course. Of course he'd put those tears there. Of course this was his doing. "Michaela?"

"I…I figured you had your reasons for going. I trusted I'd hear from you again," she lied. She hadn't known at all. She'd been devastated by his leaving. Their relationship had been fragile from the beginning, and over time and over distance, it had strengthened. When he'd left, she hadn't expected it, and that made having him back in her life hurt so much more. She was happy he was there, but every moment left the overwhelming threat that he might leave again without saying goodbye. "Sully?" He looked over at her. "Where did you go when you left?" Sully swallowed hard, thinking back to every place he'd been since Abagail died.

"I took a train to St. Louis…took some odd jobs there," he said quietly. "After that, I met up with Daniel down in Texas, and we went cattle drivin'." Michaela only nodded, and she stood up. He watched her and stood, as she started to walk away. "Somethin' wrong?"

"No. No, I just want to start back. I think a storm's coming in." She continued on, and Sully looked up at the sky. There wasn't a cloud there, and the sun was shining, but he said nothing and followed after her, more confused than he'd felt all day.