Chapter 10

October 1870 – Somewhere Near El Paso

Sully stretched out under the stars on this night. Usually, he slept in a makeshift tent, but tonight, the air was sweet, and the breeze was cool. The stars were shining brightly, and he was thinking of her. Today was their anniversary; the anniversary of the night they met, and just knowing that gave him a longing to be back in Boston with her. He wished he could share this wild, untamed land with her, however, because he knew how much she would love it. He wanted to show her what he used to call home, but he still hadn't brought himself back there. He was still lost, and his nights were lonely…even more lonely without the nightmares.

Ever since he'd told her he loved her, his nightmares of Abby's death had gone away. It was as if that had been the last straw…he'd finally let go of Abagail. He still thought of her and carried the terrible burden of the memory of that night, but the nightmares didn't come anymore. Michaela had done that. She'd taken them away.

The thought of her made his heart beat faster, and he couldn't shake the desire that surged through his veins. He tried to control the way he felt, but his body took over, and he could only lie there, thinking of her, waiting for it all to end; waiting for the sweet release of sleep to comfort him. He didn't dread the dark anymore. He only wished she was there with him.

The rustle of brush behind the wagon caused him to sit up, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Daniel? That you?" There was no sound but the rustle of the cattle and the whistle of the wind. After a few moments of silence, he again heard the rustle and a few light footsteps, and he stood up, picking up his pack and slinging it onto his shoulder, fumbling for something to use as a weapon. "Who is it?"

"Shh," came a soft hiss from nearby. Sully watched as the figure came out from behind the wagon; a petite young woman with midnight hair hanging loosely around her shoulders like Abby's and eyes that almost reminded him of Michaela's. Sully sighed heavily and let his guard down, tossing his pack down into the dirt.

"Carrie, what're you doin' out this late?"

"Couldn't sleep," she replied, her eyes flashing in the moonlight. Sully swallowed hard and turned back toward his bedroll.

"Your pa'll be wonderin' where you are."

"My pa's drunk and down for the night," she replied. "So are most of the cowhands, 'cept Daniel and Fred. They're patrollin' at the other end of the camp." She moved toward him, and he could clearly see that she was in nothing but a nightgown…one designed for hot nights such as this. The sleeves were torn off, a few buttons were missing, and he could see the tanned flesh of her chest, arms and her legs. He looked away, and he reached for a blanket to cover her with. A sly grin appeared across her face.

"What's the matter, Sully?" she asked.

"I think ya need to go back to your tent," he replied. "We all need to get some sleep." Carrie moved toward him.

"What are you runnin' from?" she wondered, as he leaned against the wagon, not wanting to look at her. "Are ya scared of me, Sully?" He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his throat.

"I ain't runnin'," he replied dryly.

"You sure do this drive a lot." One side of her nightgown slipped down her shoulder, and her right breast was almost completely exposed. Sully couldn't look. He wouldn't. He closed his eyes, thinking of Michaela and wishing she were there. He couldn't deal with this right now. She was behind him now, and her hand was touching his arm. He tried to move away, but she pressed in closer to him. "You must be tryin' to keep your mind off somethin'…someone."

"I ain't," he responded flatly.

"C'mon, Sully. I know when a man's lonely," she whispered. Sully turned around, immediately regretting it, as his back pressed into the side of the wagon, and Carrie leaned in. He could smell the scent of her perfume, something that nobody usually wore on the trail. But, Carrie wasn't like most people. She was the daughter of the trail boss; not more than twenty years old. She talked like the cowboys, fought as fiercely as they did and could rope a steer in less than two minutes. She was beautiful and smart and very, very determined to get what she wanted. And at that moment, he knew exactly what she wanted.

Sully knew that most of the cowboys on the trail desired her. He'd heard them talking, but he never took place in those conversations. Most of the men were too afraid to act on those desires, however, because they knew that Carrie's father would kill him and leave him to the buzzards if they put a hand on her. That's what made her even more tempting to them. She must have thought he felt the same way.

"Carrie, I mean it. Ya need to get back to your tent. I wanna sleep."

"Sleep?" she asked. "Now where's the fun in that?" Her eyes were like crystal, as they stared up into his. For only a moment, he thought he saw hesitation, regret, and fear. For only a moment, he thought he was looking into Michaela's eyes. But, he couldn't see her soul, her fire, her heart. He saw Carrie's desires, and he tried to back away. He was trapped; trapped against her warm body and the side of the shaky wagon.

"Carrie, I…"

"You're lost," she whispered. "Most of the cowboys out here are. Ya look lonely, Sully. Nobody should be lonely." He couldn't move now, as her lips parted slowly. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and he closed his eyes. He wanted Michaela. He needed her now, and he couldn't get to her.

"I gotta take a walk." He tried to move, but her hands pushed him back, and she stood on her tiptoes, inching closer to his mouth. "Carrie…stop it." He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back. She didn't back down, and she continued to pursue him. Finally, he felt her relax a bit, and he was able to push her back. "I ain't doin' this, Carrie. Not now." He walked off briskly, letting the cool air calm him. He could feel her watching him, and it burned. When he finally looked back, he didn't see her, and he settled down against a large tree, pulling off his boots and looking up at the stars. He could see the North Star, and he knew Michaela was probably looking at it too.

He wondered if she thought about him as much as he thought about her. Was she still seeing Landon? Was Landon treating her right? Did she even care about that man? Why was it his concern? He'd left her. He'd left, because he hadn't wanted to hurt her. Now, he felt like a fool. All he wanted was her. It killed him that he couldn't have her. He'd really screwed it up. If he went back, would he even be able to face her? Would she want to see him? God, what had he done? Had he completely wrecked the one good thing in his life since he'd lost his family?

"Awful cold out here tonight," came that same voice, much softer now; sweeter. Sully sighed heavily, when Carrie sat down beside him, this time wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. "I know…I know. Ya wanted to be alone. So did I. I figured we could be alone together."

"I ain't in the mood for talkin'," he said quietly.

"That's all right. We don't have to talk," she whispered, scooting closer to him. Sully scooted away, feeling like a schoolboy being chased by all of the girls. He wanted to distance himself from her as far as he possibly could. "You're runnin' again." How dare she? She didn't know him.

"I ain't runnin'. I just wanna be alone," he replied roughly, a hint of annoyance dripping from his lips this time.

"No you don't. Ya came here 'cause ya were alone. Ya came here—to this drive—so ya wouldn't have to feel alone. There's so many people on this drive, but ya still feel like you're all by yourself, don't ya?" Sully didn't answer. He only looked up at the sky, focusing on that North Star. "That's how I felt all these years. Ya think it's easy bein' the only girl on the trail? When my ma took sick, I was a baby…maybe one or two, and my pa didn't wanna leave me with strangers, and he didn't trust any of his relatives. So, I had to grow up real quick. Been dodgin' all them damned cowboys all my life." She picked up a rock and tossed it away before brushing her fingers through her raven locks. "What about you, Sully? Hmm?" Sully didn't answer. "I've seen ya on this trail a few times in the past year. I still don't know nothin' about ya. I don't know your story."

"I don't have one," he answered.

"Sure ya do. Everybody's got a story. I see it in your eyes. Ya ain't like the rest of these fellas. Ya got somethin' special." Sully swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

"I did…once. I left that behind."

"Left what behind?" She saw his body tense, and she grinned. "A lady?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Seems to me that ya'd rather be someplace else tonight, Mr. Sully. Seems like ya'd rather be cozied up with somebody special." She scooted closer to him, and Sully finally stood.

"Ya sure you're the one that's been dodgin' those cowboys? Seems to me that they'd be dodgin' you." He saw something change then, and she stood, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. She turned to walk away, and he could have sworn he saw her lip tremble. He stood and moved toward her, putting his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged away. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry 'bout it. I ain't nothin' but the trail whore anyway, right?" She stalked off, and Sully stared after her, dumbfounded. He certainly hadn't expected that, and he knew then that there was something else to her past the exterior she showed everybody. Carrie James was something different. She was rough around the edges, but he'd gotten a glimpse of pain in her soul. Somehow, Sully knew that she wasn't what she made herself out to be.

October 1870 - Boston

Michaela sighed as she poured over her books at the clinic. It had been a month since she'd seen Sully last, and she'd received a few telegrams. None of them had said anything spectacular, but at least she knew he was well. He was on a cattle drive, as far as she knew, and she wouldn't be able to try to reach him until he decided to leave the drive and go someplace else. But, she knew Sully. He would stay on the cattle drive until he needed to change direction, and then he'd lose himself with mining or something else.

She sighed, looking at the clock. Landon was picking her up in a few minutes, and they were going out to dinner. This wouldn't be the first time. They'd shared several dinners in the past week, but Michaela's mind was never quite there on those nights. She was always thinking about Sully and wondering about what he was doing.

She had put on her pine green dress, one that looked divine under the lighting at the restaurant. Landon was taking her to the finest place in town, and she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. Her mother, however, was extremely happy. She felt that Michaela and Landon were a good match, and Landon was a nice diversion from thinking about Sully. Unfortunately, Michaela never stopped thinking about Sully when she was with Landon.

A knock came to the door, and Michaela looked up. She smiled when Landon entered, and he tipped his hat to her.

"Are you ready?" he questioned. She nodded, and she placed her charts in her desk drawer. It had been a very uneventful day. It seemed as if everyone was either healthy or avoiding coming to this end of town just to see a lady doctor. She knew her time was almost up in Boston. It was only a matter of time before she had no practice at all.

"I'm ready," she finally spoke. "You're early."

"Mother shoved me out the door," he pointed out. Michaela laughed, not thinking anything of it at the moment. She hooked her arm through his, feeling him tense. But, she decided against asking him what was wrong. She was used to not getting much of a response. "I didn't really see the point of killing time." Michaela grinned, and she followed him out of the clinic and out to the carriage.

When he helped her up, he climbed in beside her and told the driver where to go. Michaela felt the cool October air cling to her skin, and she shivered. She closed her eyes for a moment, seeing his face; wondering if he was warm or had enough to eat. She hated worrying about him. That's all she'd done since he'd left. She wouldn't tell him that. She didn't want him to feel guilty. She wanted him to find himself, and maybe someday, she'd know exactly what she wanted too. Now, her thoughts were fuzzy, and her head was beginning to agree with her heart. Sully was meant for her, but he still had so much to deal with. She'd tried to help him, but she was slowly coming to the conclusion that the only person who could help him…was himself.

October 1870 – Colorado Springs

Jake looked down at the age-old scars on his hand. He hadn't even gotten them courageously. All he'd done was carry Abagail out of that house. She'd already been rescued by her husband. He'd gotten the scars after the fact, because he'd gotten too close when the porch fell through. Hank's scars were another story. He never showed them, but they were there.

He watched him at the end of the bar, pouring drinks for Mr. Barndollar. He wondered how Hank could put on that smile for his customers and live the life he lead without showing those scars. His girls saw them plenty, but they'd never talk about them…not to Hank. From what he'd heard, they covered his shoulders and chest, and they caused him pain from time to time. But, he never let it show.

Suddenly, the stench of smoke and cheap beer was too much for him, and he slammed his watered down whiskey bottle down on the counter. Hank looked up, as Jake put his money down on the counter. He poured another shot of whiskey, but he kept his eyes on the swinging doors, watching as Jake passed through them. Jake never could drink enough. He always had to drink until the last drop was gone; until his body shut down for the night. He'd been like that long before the fire, but it had only intensified afterward. He knew Jake somehow blamed himself for Abagail's dying, though she was far from being saved before he had ever gotten to the site of the fire.

"Hank? We got a fella not wantin' to pay back here," Liddie fumed, walking out from the back with her hands on her hips, temporarily distracting Hank. "Says Ellie didn't give him his money's worth." Hank shook his head, took a swig of whiskey—the pure stuff—and he followed Liddie into the back of the saloon, hoping Jake wasn't going to go off and do something stupid.

Meanwhile, Jake stumbled into the barbershop and made it over to his chair. He sat down, feeling his head pounding with alcohol. He closed his eyes, wanting to get rid of the ache. Normally, he drank much more than this, but the scars…the scars were hurting more than ever today, distracting him. He still remembered…

March 1858 – Colorado Springs

The rain was pouring down, and everyone in town had closed up their shops for the day. Jake was just sweeping the mud off of his porch, though all that was doing was mucking up the broom bristles. He had a bottle of whiskey ready, and since it was a cold day, he intended to spend the day and night by the stove, keeping warm and drowning his sorrows. That was how he spent most of his rainy days. He'd rather do that than think about the things he didn't have…the things he couldn't do.

Lightning struck someplace close to town, but thunder didn't follow. What followed were the gasping sobs of a young woman. He turned to see her running around the side of the building, mud up to her ankles, caked to the bottom of her skirt.

"Abagail?" The woman turned quickly, her tear stained face turning pale in the rain. "What're ya doin' in town?"

"I need…I gotta see my pa."

"Loren and Maude ain't here. They went to Manitou just a few hours ago." Abagail sighed heavily. She looked lost. He didn't really know her very well, but he couldn't let a lady stand in the street in the pouring rain.

"Well, I got a key…and…" Somehow, he knew she shouldn't be alone.

"Come in. Warm yourself by the fire," Jake replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable. It wasn't often that he offered his shop to people in need. He often kept to himself and let people take care of their own troubles.

"Thank you," she shivered, as he helped her up the steps. She tracked mud in behind her, but Jake figured it'd be easier to clean up when it was dry. He closed out the storm and helped her out of her coat.

"Sully know you're in town?" She shook her head, fighting back the tears again.

"He's at home with the girls," she whispered. "I…I had to get out."

"Ya have a fight? Did he hit ya?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "Sully would never do that, so don't you ever say that again." Her eyes were full of fire, and Jake backed off.

"Sorry. I just don't see no reason ya'd come runnin' into town all upset in the middle of a storm." He watched Abagail bury her face in her hands for a moment, and he felt sorry for her. She was so young…only eighteen years old and already a wife and mother.

"I just…I needed to see my ma and pa."

"So ya came here without a horse or a wagon?"

"Do ya have to ask me a question every time I say somethin', Mr. Slicker?" she countered, ringing out her long, black hair. She sighed heavily, and Jake sat down in his chair.

"I'd offer ya somethin' to drink, but all I got is whiskey." Abagail's hand trembled, and she glanced at the bottle. If it wasn't for those babies, she'd have certainly had a drink. "So if ya didn't fight…why'd ya leave?"

"I didn't…I just…I needed some air." Jake didn't buy it for a second. "Sully…he just…he was holdin' the girls, and they were cryin'…and I'd fed 'em. I didn't know what else they wanted. I just…I been hearin' nothin' but cryin' for months and months. He tried to stop me, but the girls were cryin' so hard, and I just…ran outside and kept goin'." She was shaking again, and Jake swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. Ya don't need to hear this."

"Don't look like I got much else to hear right now, does it?"

"This…this is silly. I need to go home. My family…my family needs me." Thunder rumbled again, and the rain began to shower down harder.

"Ya go out there now, and you'll get yourself pneumonia or worse." Abagail shook her head. Her mind was clouding with thoughts she couldn't understand; didn't want to understand. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to look at Sully and feel like he loved her. God knows he did, but she couldn't help but feel like something had changed. She wanted to feel like she had three years ago. Everything had been perfect then, but everything had happened so fast.