Chapter 21

December 1870 – Colorado Springs

"And this'll be your room for the night," Charlotte said breathlessly, as she opened the door to another guest room. Michaela and Sully had brought their belongings upstairs, and Michaela had already started to unpack her things. She wasn't sure how long she would be staying above the boarding house, but she was willing to pay for as long as she needed to. So, while Michaela was unpacking despite being exhausted, Sully was checking out his own room. "You sure you don't need to stay longer than a night?"

"I'm sure. I got some things to do, and I know just where to stay." Charlotte looked at him skeptically, and she placed her hand on her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. "Charlotte? What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothin'." She smiled, wanting to change the subject. "It's so good to have you here. There's so much…so much you need to know."

"I need to see Loren," he said pointedly, moving toward the window and looking out toward the mercantile.

"Yes you do. He wants to see you too." She cleared her throat. "But first, I think the doc needs to take a look at him." Sully turned quickly from the window.

"What's wrong with Loren?"

"He ain't doin' good, Sully. He's been lookin' forward to this though."

"To me?"

"Yeah. He's been waitin' on you for a long time." She chuckled a little. Sully immediately felt his gut tighten with regret and remorse. Michaela tapped on the open door and came in with her medical bag in hand. "Oh, Doc! I've got your first patient."

"You do?" Michaela asked, wide eyed.

"Loren Bray. He's been cooped up above that mercantile for weeks now. He's feelin' real poorly, and I told him you'd be here today." The mention of the man's name had Michaela's eyes searching Sully's somber ones.

"Take me to him," she said with an affirmative nod. Charlotte nodded, and Michaela started for the door. She felt Sully's hand reach out for hers, and she took it, holding his fingers between hers.

They started down the stairs, but just as they were reaching for the door, Matthew Cooper hurried through the door with a baby boy in his arms.

"Matthew!" Charlotte exclaimed, startled. She placed her hand over her chest, and Michaela noticed. Charlotte turned to Sully and Michaela. "This is my oldest son, Matthew." Sully was a little taken aback. The last time he'd seen Matthew, he'd been ten and trying to help out at home when his father was out on fishing trips. Little Colleen had been much smaller, and Brian had still been in diapers. It was shocking to see this one all grown up with a baby of his own.

"Mr. Bray's feelin' poorly. He…"

"The doctor's here now," Charlotte assured him. "Will ya wait here 'til Brian and Colleen get home from school?"

"Sure, Ma." Matthew's eyes were on Sully, and Sully nodded to him. "It's good to see ya, Sully."

"You too, Matthew." Charlotte ushered Michaela and Sully out the door, and before she left, she kissed her grandbaby on the forehead. Finally, the three of them were heading across town.

"That's my little grandbaby. Name's Charlie."

"He's beautiful," Michaela said breathlessly, trying to keep up with Charlotte. She could see Charlotte struggling, and she made a mental note to explain digitalis to her later. It was obvious that Charlotte wasn't as healthy as she appeared to be.

Sully's eyes darted toward the barbershop, and the sun was reflecting off of the window, so he couldn't see inside. It was for the best. He wasn't ready yet.

The wind changed direction, and Michaela placed her hand on top of her head to stop her pinned hat from flying off. Sully caught up with her and wrapped his arm around her comfortably. He was aware of the stares they were receiving, and when the sun passed behind the clouds, he saw a pair of dark eyes staring at him from behind the barbershop door. Their eyes met for only a moment, before the other pair turned away.

Charlotte pushed open the doors of the mercantile and waited for Michaela and Sully to pile inside. She finally closed out the cold, wintry air and took Michaela's hand.

"You come up first. Sully, I think we best get Loren calmed down first." Sully nodded and watched his fiancée and Charlotte go upstairs. It was then that he realized that the store was just like it was ten years earlier. The moneybox was hidden in the same place; the old wood stove had yet to be replaced, and the candy jars were in the same place they'd been when he'd left.

His mind wandered back to the Christmas that he and Abagail had first spent in the store staying warm. That night had been special to both him and Abagail. They'd been closer than ever that night, and that was what catapulted the young marriage and the difficulties that had lay ahead for them.

With a heavy sigh, Sully started up the stairs to wait in the hall; thinking about what he was going to say to Loren. He was terrified, but he knew he had to do this. He had to see him.

"Loren, there's somebody here to meet ya," Charlotte said, knocking on the door. She poked her head inside, and a moment later, she opened the door all the way and led Michaela inside. Michaela was apprehensive, but she put on a smile, as she walked in to meet the man that used to be Sully's father-in-law. From what she'd heard about him, Sully had certainly looked to Loren as a father figure…the only father he'd truly ever known. "Loren, this is Dr. Michaela Quinn. Doc, this is Loren Bray. He's been feelin' poorly for weeks now." She quietly made note that he'd barely touched the tray of food she'd brought in earlier.

Loren said nothing. He merely stared at the picture in his hands, and as Michaela moved closer, she could see Sully in that photo. He was holding two little girls in his arms, and a young woman with dark hair stood beside him with a little one sleeping in her arms. Michaela's heart jumped into her throat. She was terrified. What would he think of her being engaged to the man who was once married to his daughter? Should she tell him? Should she keep her mouth shut?

"Hello, Mr. Bray," Michaela finally said with a smile.

"Dr. Quinn," he mumbled under his breath. She was almost thankful he wasn't looking her in the eyes.

"Well, if you prefer, you can call me Dr. Mike." Loren studied her for a moment before turning his eyes back to the picture. "What's been troubling you?"

"Everything," he replied. Michaela was silent, and he sighed. Michaela could see the color—or lack thereof—of his skin. He didn't have much time left; yet he was so peaceful at this moment. "Been seein' my little girl in my dreams. She died…'bout ten years ago." Michaela was caught off guard. From everything Sully had told her about him, she didn't expect him to open up right away. But, she had seen people do stranger things at the end of their lives. She knew he was slowly slipping away, and she wasn't sure if she was going to be able to save him.

"I kn…" Michaela stopped herself and swallowed hard. She pulled out her stethoscope and placed the earpieces in her ears. "I'm going to listen to your heart and lungs. Can you take a deep breath for me?" Loren did as she asked, and Michaela felt the tears welling in her eyes. She listened for a few moments before hearing the culprit. "You have fluid on your lungs, Mr. Bray."

"That's bad, huh?"

"I could drain it…it's really a simple procedure," she noted. Loren seemed to be considering it. "I could give you something for the pain, and…"

"Pain," he chuckled. "Ain't afraid of pain." Michaela nodded sympathetically. She noticed a bandage on his shoulder.

"What happened here?"

"Ah, I fell off the ladder dustin' the shelves a couple weeks ago."

"May I examine it?"

"Go ahead. You're the doc. Just don't go pokin' and proddin' where ya don't belong." Michaela smiled a little and gingerly began to remove the bandage. Loren sighed heavily, and Michaela could tell that he was getting impatient about something. "Yeah, my Abby…I've been seein' her and those little girls in my dreams most every night. Maude too. They're callin' me. It's been five years since I've seen my wife." Michaela frowned. "Been too long since I seen my little girl and those grand babies." He coughed and wheezed for a moment, and Charlotte handed him a handkerchief to cough into. "Beautiful kids." He sighed heavily. "Died in a fire with their ma." Michaela's eyes immediately shot to the picture in Loren's hand again.

"Is that a picture of them?" she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to make conversation. Loren nodded proudly.

"Yep. That's a week before the fire," he said sadly. "Lost everythin' that night." He wiped away a tear and winced in pain, when Michaela touched the damaged flesh.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Mr. Bray." He relaxed only a little.

"It's alright," he said quickly.

"This hasn't healed at all," Michaela said with a frown, already knowing the reason why.

"Most things don't these days," Loren grumbled.

"Would ya like a drink of water, Loren?" Charlotte asked, wanting to make herself useful.

"Naw. I'm fine," he responded flatly. Michaela was now in the process of applying salve and a fresh bandage to his wound. All was quiet except for a creak from the hall now and again. Charlotte could see Sully through the cracked open door, and her palms began to sweat. She wasn't sure how Loren was going to react when he saw him, though she knew he'd been waiting desperately for this day for a very, very long time.

Michaela closed her medical bag and moved over to the washbasin to cleanse her hands. She knew what was wrong, and she was almost sure of it, but she wasn't sure how to tell him. This wasn't easy to tell a person, especially one she felt like she already knew. But, she heaved a weary sigh and cleared her throat professionally.

"Mr. Bray, I need to do some further tests, but I'm almost one hundred percent positive that what you have is a form of cancer." There. It was done. All she had to do now was wait. Loren's eyes looked up into hers. They weren't full of surprise or sadness. He looked like he'd known for a long time without really knowing. He'd known he was dying. "It's called Leukemia." Loren was still calm, which surprised Michaela.

"I'm dyin'," he said with a nod. Michaela and Charlotte's eyes met, and Charlotte turned toward the window, her eyes flooded with grief and worry. What now? But, Loren brushed it off and began to speak again. "How much longer do I got?"

"Mr. Bray…"

"You can tell me," he said quickly. "I'm dyin'. I know that. I accepted it a long time ago. I just can't go yet, so ya gotta tell me how long I got." Michaela frowned and shook her head.

"It's hard to tell. It could be anywhere from a month to…to a year." Loren shook his head again.

"Ain't got another year left in me. Don't even know 'bout another month. I just can't go 'til I take care of somethin'. I'm gonna need a little help." He looked up at Charlotte, and Michaela observed the glance they shared between one another.

Out in the hallway, Sully could hear every word Loren was saying. His stomach was twisting up in knots. Dying? He couldn't be dying. Not yet. He had so much he needed to say, and he wasn't sure he could do it in such a short time. How much time did he have left? Leukemia? How could this man…a man that had once helped Sully build a homestead…a man that had given his granddaughter piggyback rides…how could that man be dying?

His thoughts were a confused mess, and he felt dizzy. He leaned his back against the wall, and he peered into the room, seeing the grief passing over Loren's face.

"I gotta take care of it, Charlotte. Ya gotta help me find him. I can't go 'til he knows!" Loren was trembling with agitation and frustration.

"Mr. Bray," Michaela said quietly, "I'll get you something…"

"No. I don't wanna do this with medicine. I lived my life. I suffered more pain that most people do in a lifetime. I lost almost everything that's special to me, and it's time for me to get that back. I'll be with 'em again, but…" He looked at Charlotte, and his eyes were pleading. "Charlotte…"

"Loren, everything is gonna be fine. You just…"

"Charlotte! Ya gotta help me find him! He's gotta know!" Loren finally pleaded. "Ya gotta help me find Sully! He's gotta know."

At the sound of his name, Sully's heart began to pound so hard. He couldn't take his hand off of the door, and he couldn't wait any longer. Loren was asking for him. What did he need? What did he want to tell him? He had to find out. He owed him at least that much.

"Mr. Bray," Michaela said softly, "I'll be with you in a moment." She turned toward the door, wanting to go to Sully, but Loren slammed his fist down on the table.

"No! He's gotta know! Ya gotta find him. He's gotta know he's still got a son!"

August 1860 – Colorado Springs

Maude's cries upstairs couldn't be calmed, and Loren was at a loss, as he sat on the porch of the mercantile with his grandson in his arms. They'd laid Abagail and the girls to rest that morning, and no matter how hard he'd tried, he couldn't get Maude to come down for anything. He was trying to be strong for her and for the boy, but it wasn't easy. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw their faces and heard their laughter.

"I don't know what happened, but I promise I'm gonna take real good care of you. I don't know where your papa is, but I know him. He's a good man. He'd never hurt ya. He's just lost, and he's gonna find his way back to ya someday. 'Til then, your grandpa's gonna look after ya. I'll do right by your ma and pa. I'll teach ya everythin' they'd want ya to know." A sleeping Johnny cooed in his sleep and snuggled against his grandfather. Loren sat alone, rocking the infant all through the night, hoping that Sully would find his way before it was too late.

December 1870 – Colorado Springs

Silence filled the air for a few moments, and the door blew open as if pushed by the hand of God. Loren's eyes glittered with confusion and absolute shock, when Sully entered the room a moment later. Michaela and Charlotte stood by, watching as the scene unfolded. Michaela's mouth was agape, and her heart was pounding harder than ever, as Sully came into view of the man he had always looked up to.

"What did you say?" Sully asked, moving across the room in a frantic pace, his blue eyes wild, as if he was hanging on the edge of a cliff by one hand, not sure of whether or not to hang on or let go. Loren tried to sit up in bed a little, but the sheer shock of the situation absolutely stunned him.

"Sully! What…you're here," Loren stammered. "I…is it really you?" Sully's mind was working in the opposite direction.

"My son! What about my son? What did you say? What…"

"Oh God. Oh God." Loren was too stunned to speak now. His eyes were wet with tears, and his body was trembling with surprise, with exhaustion and with so many other emotions. Without a word, Charlotte took Michaela's hand and pulled her from the room, but all Michaela wanted to do was stay there and be there for the man she loved. She was trying to grasp what the old man had said, but her heart and mind were failing her now.

Sully's heart was breaking at the thought. His son? Johnny. His boy? He was alive? He'd been gone ten years without knowing? It wasn't possible!

"Loren," Sully said shakily, wondering if the old man was babbling in senility. "Loren!" Was he dreaming? Was Loren just a crazy old fool that didn't know his own mind? Loren couldn't find the words, but he knew he had to tell him. He had to get everything out now no matter how difficult it was, because he didn't know when each day would be his last.

"He's alive. Your son. Your son." Sully's entire world was shaking, cracking…breaking apart at the seams.

"Johnny? Johnny's alive." The words didn't seem to ring true to him. No. How could it be? How could something have turned out right at the same time but so very wrong? How could this have happened? How could he have not known that his own son was alive, breathing, growing?

"Johnny," Loren nodded, gaining his composure. He began coughing, and Sully didn't know what to do. But his instincts kicked in, and he shakily moved across the room and poured him a glass of water. He felt as if he wasn't really moving when he handed him the glass. After Loren had swallowed the cold fluid down, his trembling hand dropped the damp glass, and it shattered to the floor.

"My son's alive?" His mind was reeling and trying to convince him he wasn't hearing it right. "How could ya say that? He died in that fire! He's dead, Loren! I been grievin' for ten years!" Loren couldn't take his eyes off of his son-in-law. He was really there…the man that had left without a word and without coming to the funeral. He was standing right in front of him, ten years older and so much wiser. This was the same man that had fathered his grandchildren, loved his daughter and had loved that family more than life itself. Ten long years…he had waited too long.

"I waited for so long to tell ya. Ya never came home."

"They…they died. I was there. Abby…the girls. The baby." He then heard Jake's words rattle though his mind again, and he was sickened with realization.

"We still ain't found the baby. We'll keep lookin'."

"Oh my God," Sully breathed. He couldn't stay still. His heart was guiding his body about the room like an un-caged bird, trying to fly to freedom. "He's alive. He's alive. He's alive." He was trembling. The words kept pounding through his skull. Johnny. His little boy. His baby. Johnny. Not dead. Alive. Alive.

"Sully," Loren pleaded. "Sit down. Sit down and I'll tell ya everything." Loren's feeble hands motioned toward the chair, but Sully looked at the picture frame that Loren had been holding…his family.

"I…Loren, how?" He was searching his mind and memories. He was trying to think of how it could all be possible. "I don't understand. I can't…"

"Please, sit down. I need to tell ya. I've been waitin' ten years to tell ya, so sit down and let me try. Please." Sully's felt as if his world was spinning out of control, and he couldn't even feel his own hands or his legs. He's alive. Those were the words he'd wanted to hear ten years ago. He could have, but he'd been so overcome by grief that running away and dealing with the pain had been the only option for him. His son was doing the one thing he vowed he'd never let happen. He was growing up without a father…just like Sully had.

Finally, he sat down in the chair beside Loren's bed. The confusion and sheer idea of his son being alive made his head swim. The tears he had been suppressing finally broke free from their prisons and flowed freely, and he was weeping like he hadn't wept in so long. He buried his face in his hands. Ten years. Ten years, and he hadn't been there.

"I wanted to tell ya. I wanted you to know that he was alive," Loren breathed. "But, I didn't know how to tell ya. Ya weren't there for the funeral, and ya just disappeared off into them hills. I never saw ya again, and I never heard from ya." Loren clasped his hands together, trying to stop the incessant shaking. But, that shaking had been there too long to stop now. He'd stopped crying over Abby a long time ago, but those familiar longings to hear her laugh and to see her play with those girls were flowing back. Here he was, and it was as if no time had passed. He waited for Sully's voice. He waited for some explanation. He wasn't angry. He just needed to know why.

Sully searched his soul for an answer. Why did he leave? Was he a coward? Was he afraid of the unknown? So much had happened since that hot August night, yet he could still feel it all: the anxiety of needing to get home, the journey from the Cheyenne camp and the screams coming from inside of that homestead. He could still smell the burning wood and feel and hear the floors crack and groaning underneath his feet. When he looked into Loren's sad but approving eyes, he knew the answer.

"I thought ya blamed me," Sully said quietly. "I blamed myself. I couldn't face any of ya. That's why I couldn't stay. I couldn't stay and see what I'd done. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I…I'm sorry." Loren's hand gently touched Sully's shoulder, and Sully didn't back away. He couldn't. Not now. He'd never felt quite like this before. He didn't know how to act.

"Ya didn't do it, Sully," Loren replied. "Nobody ever blamed ya. It was an accident, what happened. Ya know Abby had trouble with them stoves." Sully sighed heavily, not know what to think or feel. All of these years, he had expected Loren to hate him and wish he'd died instead. He'd never expected Loren to take his side, especially after being gone for so long.

"I never shoulda left. I should've been there. I shoulda taken care of my family." Loren coughed heavily, and he shook his head.

"Ya did that. They know ya loved 'em." Sully's hands took the picture frame, and he stared down at his family for the first time in ten years. Lily and Hanna with matching dresses and the sweetest smiles, little Johnny with a face just like his papa's, and then there was Abby. Abby's hair was long and done up in ribbons. She looked so much younger than a wife and mother of only twenty years. She looked like the girl of fifteen that he'd first fallen in love with, and he could still feel her weight in his arms, as he placed her into Jake's the night she died. He knew she'd have wanted him to save the babies first. Their room…the baby's room. He'd thought Johnny was taken first.

"I thought…I thought Johnny was in the house," Sully said, still in shock from the news. "I thought my boy was gone…" Loren took a painful breath and began to recall an even more painful night. But, he was slowly beginning to calm down. He was beginning to feel familiar with Sully again.

"Abby brought him into town…asked us to watch him, 'cause the girls were feelin' sick. Well, I had some deliveries to make…and I wasn't feelin' good myself. Maude insisted on comin' along, so we brought the boy with us." He paused, choking back the tears. "Maude begged me to tell ya," he said softly. "It was all so…so overwhelmin', and I didn't know the first thing to say to ya. I couldn't find ya. I was gonna find ya and tell ya after the service, but ya weren't there and you was gone 'fore I got the chance. We raised him as best we could…teachin' him everything we thought his ma and pa would wanna know. When Maude passed…well, I did what I could with him. He's so much like you, Sully. He don't remember you, but he's the spittin' image of ya." Sully slowly stood and moved to the window, waiting for Loren to continue. "He's a good boy, and he needs his pa now."

"Where is he? Where's my son?" Sully asked, turning around again. He'd spent too much time away from him. He needed him now. He needed to see him and hold him and tell him that he'd never leave him again. He had too much time to make up for.

"He's in school right now. He's a real good student…the best in the class," Loren pointed out tiredly. "He's lived to make ya proud, Sully. He's been waitin' for ya. He's been waitin' for his pa." Sully could hardly grasp the situation. He had a son. His son had been waiting for him for ten years.

With a painful cough, Loren pointed to the drawer beside his bed, and Sully slowly opened it. "That envelope. There. Take it. I been waitin' on you to give you this. I ain't waitin' no more." Sully swallowed hard, and he pulled it out of the desk.

"What is it?"

"Just open it." Sully eyed the older man carefully, and he began to open the unsealed envelope. When he saw what was in there, he looked at Loren, shaking his head and pushing it toward him.

"I can't accept this." Loren pushed it back.

"Yes ya can. I already sold all my property. Now that you're here, I can put the store up for sale too. That's everything. That should be enough to build ya a nice house for you and your son. That should be enough to send him off to college and still have enough left over. He's a good boy…real bright. He's gonna have a good future, and I'm makin' sure of it. Don't worry…I got a good lawyer in Denver to draw up the papers for ya."

"I don't know what to say," Sully said quietly, looking at the envelope in his hands.

"Don't say nothin'. Just take that envelope and keep it to yourself. Ya make a good life for you and that boy. Abby woulda wanted it that way." Sully swallowed hard and nodded. "You're home, Sully. Johnny's wish finally came true. His pa's finally home."

Charlotte's hands were clasping Michaela's, and Michaela was trying to swallow her tears. Charlotte had told her every heartbreaking detail, and all she wanted to do was go into that room and hold Sully. He needed her now.

They were seated on the stair steps at the mercantile, and Michaela could hear certain sounds of words from Loren's room. Sully had a son. His son was alive. Ten years of mourning his loss had come down to this day. Jonathan Sully was alive.

"He's been so…so lost, Charlotte," Michaela whispered. "Helping him wasn't easy. I think he did it on his own, but he…he wasn't prepared for this. Neither of us were. His little boy is alive, and he's missed out on ten years."

"Johnny's a good boy, Doc," Charlotte said with a smile. "Sully'll be so proud. Loren's been good with him." Charlotte smiled and patted Michaela's hand. "Why don't we go on over to the café? It's snowy, but this time of year, Grace's got the best hot cider around." Michaela shook her head.

"No thank you. I need to be here for him."

"Sully's gonna need some time with his son. He'll understand. If he don't, you tell him to talk to me. 'Sides, it'll give us a chance to get to know each other. If you're marryin' Sully, ya must be somethin' special." Michaela blushed heavily and shook her head, despite the fact that she was appreciative of Charlotte for trying to make the situation a little easier.

"I really should stay. He's going to need me."

"He will," Charlotte said with a nod, "but I think it's best we let him see his boy first. He's gonna need ya more than ever after that."