Chapter 19

Christmas 1859 – Colorado Springs

"Sully, I can explain," Abagail said quietly, her eyes glimmering with tears, as she slowly moved across the room. Sully's hand was trembling, as he held the letter. "It's not what you think." What could he possibly think? She knew exactly what he'd read in that letter. She'd known how Jake had felt for months, and she couldn't even possibly imagine how horrified Sully was to know that his wife had kept this letter a secret…along with the feelings Jake felt for her.

"He can't stop thinkin' about you? He can't stop seein' your face when he's sleepin'?" He stuffed the letter back in the envelope. He'd read enough. The past couple of years flashed through his mind. His beautiful wife…their beautiful children.

"Sully, it's not what you think," Abagail said quietly, her entire body shaking in worry. She'd never seen him so upset before. She knew he would never hurt her, but she knew this was killing him. What else could he assume?

"What is it then, huh? Why'd ya hide it from me?"

"I didn't. I…I just didn't know how to tell you…" He turned his body completely toward her, staring right into her eyes.

"Tell me what?" he asked, outraged at the fact that Jake could have said such things to his wife. His mind was reeling out of control, and he held onto the bedpost to keep some ounce of composure. "Are you in love with him?" Abagail's worried expression turned to one of anger and disgust. How could he ask such a thing? Didn't he trust her? How couldn't he trust her after what they'd been through? For that matter…how could he trust her? She'd confided in Jake before confiding in her husband. What else could he think? But it still infuriated her.

"What?" Abagail moved toward him, taking the envelope quickly from his hand. "How could you ask me that? How could you even think it?" She paused, gathering her bearings for a moment, trying not to upset herself any further. "No! I'm not in love with him. I'm in love with you. You're my husband; the only man I love. How could you ever think…"

"Then why didn't ya tell me about the letter?" Abagail shook with frustration. "Abby, if it don't mean nothin', why did ya hide it from me?" Abagail let a tear slip down her cheek.

"Jake asked me not to say anything!" she blurted out. "He didn't wanna make things different between us. He knows how much I love you! I told him that. I told him I could never feel the same way about him, 'cause I already know who I'm s'posed to spend the rest of my life with. Sully, he's my friend."

"Who just happens to be in love with ya."

"So? Isn't that…isn't that sad? I cry every time I read that letter, Sully! He's in love with a woman he knows he can't have." Sully studied Abagail's face, seeing the tears in her eyes. He hated making her cry. He hated feeling like this. He trusted her, so why did he have this feeling that he was going to lose her?

"Abby…I'm sorry. I just…ya know how I feel 'bout Jake. I know he's your friend, but I see the way he looks at ya, and this letter…it just proves it."

"Don't worry," Abby said softly, gently pulling his hand into hers and placing it on her belly. "We're family, Sully. Nothin' will ever change that. We'll always be part of each other. We'll always love each other and the kids. Jake's my friend. He always will be, but you're my husband, and that's forever too."

December 1870 – Sully and Michaela's Train

"That must have been so terrible for her," Michaela said with a sympathetic sigh.

"She grew up on the cattle drive without a ma," Sully explained. "Her pa never knew how they treated her."

"She's very lucky that she had you to turn to," Michaela said quietly. She knew about Carrie. He'd told her before, but that had been the night they'd become engaged. Reality was setting in. She was starting to wonder what would have happened if Sully hadn't pushed her away.

"I'm the only one that didn't treat her like she was only there for one reason. She kept comin' after me…tryin' to prove I was no better then them cowboys. I tried to make her realize she deserved better. I hope she understands that." Michaela smiled a little and squeezed Sully's hand. "When she came to me that day…she was throwin' herself at me. She was tryin' to get me to treat her like they did. That's the only thing I can figure. But, I told her I couldn't. I told her my heart already belonged to somebody." His eyes looked into hers, and she smiled, blushing a little at his words.

"Things could have been so different, Sully."

"But they weren't. We're here…together. That's what matters." Michaela nodded in agreement and hummed a soft sigh. The sun was beginning to settle behind the trees, and neither one of them were quite sure how many days they had left to travel. They'd spent all of their time talking, holding one another and sneaking sweet kisses in the midnight hours, when each thought the other was asleep.

They were silent for a little while, until Michaela stood up to stretch. She held onto the back of her seat for support, and she noticed Sully's eyes on her. Suddenly, she felt very aware of the fact that they had gone from friends to more than friends so quickly. She still remembered how they'd talked about anything with one another…before things were complicated. His friendship had been so important to her, and having him in her life was wonderful. She was frightened, however, because while she was gaining a companion, a lover, a soul mate for life, the bond she shared with him was changing. They were still best friends, but things were so very different.

Sully noticed the look in her eyes, as she started to sit back down. She glanced out of the window, swallowing hard as they pushed further onward to the Colorado Territory.

"Michaela?"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?" Michaela eyed him.

"How did you know?"

"I know ya better than I know myself," he pointed out. "I know when somethin' is botherin' ya." Michaela smiled a little. That was yet another thing she loved about him. He knew her heart and her mind, and she didn't have to even try to hint that something was wrong. She wondered if she would always be that predictable with him though.

"I'm just…nervous, I suppose."

"Me too," he admitted. "Goin' back ain't easy for me."

"I know. Sully, it's not too late. I can…"

"No. Nobody's changin' their minds. This is your future, Michaela…our future. I gotta go back. I gotta face the past. I want ya to see the place I used to call home."

"It will be home again, Sully." He nodded contemplatively.

"I know. It's just gonna be different."

"It will be, but I'll be there with you."

"I couldn't go back there otherwise." His jaw clenched. "I left without sayin' goodbye. Some folks understood, but I know that some others…well, they probably ain't gonna be too happy to see me."

"Just give them time, Sully. They'll give you time too."

"Ya don't know these people like I do." He placed his hand against the cold glass of the window. "Abby would've wanted this. She would've wanted me to go back." His entire body trembled at the thought of seeing their graves. Abby's, Lily's, Hanna's and Johnny's. Being with them again would be a lot to take in, and the thought of it made Sully squeeze Michaela's hand. He hadn't been this terrified of going anywhere in a long time. He didn't care what people thought of him. He was only afraid of what his own heart would feel. What if he couldn't stand being there any longer? What would that do to Michaela? He couldn't ask her to leave, but he knew she wouldn't want to be there if it was hurting him.

Michaela closed her eyes and rested back against her seat. She could feel the nervousness of his energy flowing from his hand to hers. She hated that he was so scared, but she knew this was for the best. She wasn't sure how he would react to being home again, but this was a place for her to start a new practice; for them to start a new life together. Things were going to work out. They had to. She had to prove to him that everything was going to work out for the best.

December 1870 – Colorado Springs

Jake tossed his empty whisky bottle over his shoulder, hearing it shatter somewhere in the back of the barbershop. He'd clean it up in the morning. He didn't really care. His nights were like this more and more often, and he knew he should stop, but he didn't see a point. He was sick of trying to live life like she would have wanted him to. He had been at his best when she was alive…until that last night. He could still feel those words stinging him. He could still hear them and feel it like a slap in the face.

"Get away from me. Get away from my children! I could never love you! Never!"

He shook his head, trying to get rid of those feelings. The scars from the fire were starting to burn like they were fresh. How could he have gone home? How could he have just left her out there with that feeling that something bad was going to happen? How?

He felt the sudden urge to vomit, and he threw open the doors to the barbershop. He stumbled down the steps and into the snow, and his knees buckled. His hands stung in the freezing cold snow, and he heaved, purging his body of those last few swigs of whiskey. When he looked up, he saw Hank staring at him from the swinging doors of the saloon. He merely shook his head and closed up for the night, knowing there was no helping Jake Slicker when he was like this. He had to wait it out. Then they might talk…or they'd have a drink and forget about it.

When he was feeling slightly better, he pulled himself up and dragged his coat-less body across town, feeling the falling snow slice through his clothes like knives. He didn't care. God didn't care about him, so why should he care about himself?

Before he knew where he was going, he was stumbling over the white picket fence that surrounded the small graveyard. He fell to his knees in front of her grave marker, seeing her name, ABAGAIL SULLY, carved into age-faded wood. How could she be gone?

"Ya shoulda been mine," he seethed. "Ya shoulda been my wife. They shoulda been my kids. He wasn't good enough for ya. He never was. Never will be. I loved you. That's all I wanted to do."

He sighed with frustration and placed his hands on the grave marker, feeling the cold, dead wood under his strength. He closed his eyes, seeing her eyes staring into his with nothing but anger and pain that night.

"Get out! You're drunk. You're nothing but a drunk. You'll never change."

"I tried to change. I tried for you," he breathed, feeling the tears closing up his throat. He felt sick again, and he pulled himself up. "You never loved nobody but him. He didn't deserve ya. He didn't. He didn't even come to your funeral. He didn't love you. Not enough." He turned away and walked off, not wanting to think about the night she'd left. It hurt too much. All he wanted now was another bottle of whiskey and a night without hearing her breaking his heart.

December 1870 – Topeka

Daniel woke after a restful sleep. It was mid-afternoon, and he, Carrie and Tommy were due to get on yet another train in just a few hours. The bed he'd slept in had been somewhat comfortable, and at least the hotel's neighborhood had been quiet. His dreams had been plentiful, but he couldn't remember what they were about. All he could remember was her black hair and her shimmering eyes.

"Daniel?" Her voice was strong but gentle and was followed by a knock. He quickly threw back the blankets on his bed and pulled on his clothes.

"Just a minute," he called, hoping he didn't sound too anxious.

"What're ya doin' in there, Cowboy?" she asked with a laugh.

"None of your business." He felt like an idiot. He sounded like a schoolboy.

"Well, I ain't afraid to come in there. I got hot coffee, and I'm tempted to drink it myself if ya don't hurry up." Finally, the door opened, and Daniel saw Carrie all dressed up for the day with a cup of coffee in her hand.

"Didn't get one for yourself?"

"My stomach ain't settled this mornin'. 'Sides, I wanna sleep on the train," she pointed out. "But you drink up. Ya look like ya need it." Daniel rolled his eyes, as Carrie stepped into the room. "Did I wake ya up?"

"No," he replied, not daring to shut the door in case Tommy came looking for his daughter. He didn't want him thinking something was going on behind closed doors. "Did ya want somethin'?" Carrie turned at his words.

"Ya tryin' to get rid of me?"

"No. Ya just seem happy this mornin'."

"Somethin' wrong with that?"

"No." Daniel suddenly did feel like a nervous schoolboy. Her gaze was so fierce, and it seemed to penetrate right through him. Suddenly, being in the room with her was making him sweat. He needed air, so he cleared his throat. "Uh, Carrie?"

"Hmm?" Her soft lips pursed together, and her eyebrow rose up in question.

"Ya wanna go get somethin' to eat?" Carrie smiled in approval.

"That'd be nice," she answered with a nod. Daniel took a few sips of the bitter coffee and placed the cup down. Carrie laughed and walked out into the hallway to wait for him. She leaned against the wall, watching him search for his hat. She found herself smiling, as he tripped over himself, as he tried to put his boots on. He was handsome, kind and a little clumsy. She hadn't noticed the clumsiness on the cattle drive, so that made her wonder if he kind of liked her too. Maybe he was just as nervous around her as she was around him. She'd never let on that she was, but she couldn't help the way her stomach twisted in knots and her heart pounded when he flashed that gorgeous smile or ran his fingers through his hair.

"You ready?" he asked, holding his arm out to her, as he closed the door. Carrie swallowed hard, studying his face for a moment before nodding.

"I'm ready."