Chapter 29

December 1870 – Cheyenne Reservation

The instant Sully's body made contact with the ground, Johnny jumped out of the teepee and looked around to see what was going on. Then he saw them. The Cheyenne people were gathering around, trying to get a better look at the situation. Then he heard the scream that pierced right through his soul.

"SULLYYYYYYYYYYY!" His heart stopped for a moment, and his breath caught in his little chest. No. No. No. Not Sully. Not Pa.

"PA!" Johnny screamed, making his way through the tight group of Cheyenne that were gathering around the scene. "Pa!" He could hear Michaela's choked, gasping cries.

"Sully. Sully!" Michaela moved off of him, giving him room, and she saw the blood staining the back of his coat. "Oh God. No! No! Sully!" She was gasping for breath; gasping for life…his. "No. No." Her mind was reeling. She had to save his life. She had to…she had to. She put her hands upon his face. "No. Sully!" His eyes rolled back into his head before they closed, and she screamed out in gut-wrenching pain.

"Pa!" Johnny screamed, pushing through the crowd. He fell on his knees beside his father's body. "NO! NO!" He looked at Michaela. "Save him! Save him! Don't let him die." He fell over Sully, weeping loudly, sputtering for breath. Cloud Dancing pulled the boy back and handed him off to Snow Bird. "NO! Let me GO! Let me GO! Pa! Pa! WAKE UP!" Cloud Dancing put his hands on Michaela's shoulders, trying to steady her. She was wavering on the brink of lucid thoughts and terrifying agony.

"Are you hurt?" She shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts, as she began fumbling with the buttons of Sully's coat.

"He…he's…" She knew what she was supposed to do, yet her body was too stiff to move yet. She needed air. She needed time, but there was no time. They had to act now.

"We must get him warm," Cloud Dancing said quickly.

"We can't move him. Not until…" The tears fell, mercilessly stinging her frozen cheeks. She felt as if she was choking, as she saw the color begin to drain from Sully's face. They were losing precious moments.

"Until what!" Cloud Dancing urged. Michaela's eyes darted up to look into his. "You must focus! He needs you to heal him! I cannot do it alone." Michaela couldn't focus. Her hands were trembling. He was shot. He was bleeding. He was dying. Dying. No. No. He couldn't die. He couldn't leave his son. He couldn't leave her. Not now. No! "I…the…the bullet has to be removed. It didn't go through. I…"

"We must move him to safety. You must do your job, but we must keep him warm." Michaela slowly nodded, too shocked to speak. She knew that they were risking his mobility by moving him, but if they didn't move him, he would freeze to death.

"Let's get him…back…back to the teepee." Michaela's body was quivering with shock, and she wasn't quite able to let everything sink in. His blood…Sully's blood was staining her hands now, and the thought made her stomach lurch. She had to keep it together for his sake. She had to try.

"Pa!" Johnny screamed, as Snow Bird held him close. "No! Please! Don't take him! Don't take him from me!" Cloud Dancing motioned for two other Cheyenne men to carry Sully back to the teepee. Michaela followed behind in a trance, and when she arrived at the teepee, she wasn't certain of how she'd gotten there. She couldn't remember. She could only see the blood…so much blood on the back of Sully's coat…on her hands.

The sound of horses galloping off alerted Michaela that they were going off in search of the shooter. God, who was it? She wanted to kill them. She wanted to take them by the throat and squeeze the life out of them. How could they do this? How could they want to hurt him? Who where they aiming at? Her? Why? Why would someone do such a thing? Why did Sully have to suffer? Why? Why?

She climbed into the teepee, and as soon as Cloud Dancing rolled Sully to his stomach and removed the coat and ripped open the back of the shirt, Michaela only saw blood and the entrance wound. For the first time in her life, she was afraid to look. She was afraid to see the blood and the wound and the pain.

"I can't…" she breathed. "I don't…" Her hands were shaking beyond control. She needed him. She couldn't let him die, but she didn't know how to save him. One wrong move and she could kill him. She couldn't even stand to think about the idea of losing him under her own hands. No. No! It wasn't fair. Why did it have to happen to him? For the first time in a long time, she was wishing she wasn't a doctor. She wished that she wasn't holding Sully's life in her hands. He had been so strong just a few minutes ago…now he was struggling to stay alive.

Johnny was still screaming outside, and it was pounding in her ears. The blood was storming through her body, threatening to burst through her. She wanted to give him life. She wanted to give up everything for that man. But, he needed her. She couldn't fail him. No. She refused.

"Do you have what you need? Your instruments?" Cloud Dancing asked, trying to remain calm at his brother's desperate situation.

"I…" She grabbed her medical bag and ripped through it, trying to find what she needed. "Yes. I…I do." Cloud Dancing put his hand on hers.

"Do it. You must save his life. Your journey together is not finished. You must not take it alone." Michaela listened to the sound of his voice, and it soothed her a little. "You must act quickly." Michaela swallowed hard and took a cloth into her hands before gently swabbing at the entrance wound.

"I don't think I can do this," she breathed. "I can't…I can't lose him."

"You will not lose him if you act now. You are his life force. You know how to heal him." Michaela slowly nodded her head. "Do it. Heal him. I will pray to the Spirits." Johnny's screams were now deafening, but Michaela shook her head and cleared her throat. She was going to save his life. She had to. She couldn't lose him when she'd only just found him again.

"Michaela!" he called, reaching out for her. She was so close but so far away. She wasn't looking. She wasn't hearing. She wasn't feeling. "Michaela! I'm here! I ain't leavin'." Why was she so sad? He was right there. "Don't cry. Please, don't cry. I don't wanna be the reason you're sad. I'm sorry, Michaela. Forgive me. I won't leave. I won't. I wanna be with you. I wanna stay. Just look at me. I'm right here!"

"This will help stop infection," Cloud Dancing said, as he delicately applied the paste to Sully's sewn wound. Michaela was sitting back on her haunches, wiping the blood from her hands, but they were still stained red. She was shaking. She had done it. He was alive. Breathing. Living.

She picked up his hand in hers. He was holding his own. She gently brought his fingers to her lips and kissed them before caressing them against her cheek.

"I'm here, Sully. Please. Please, don't leave me." Cloud Dancing finished applying the concoction to Sully's wound, and Michaela gingerly wrapped a bandage around him. She was terrified. The bullet had been dangerously close to his spine, and she was worried that the swelling might impair Sully's ability to walk. She knew it would be temporary, but she didn't want to see it happen to him. Seeing him hurt broke her heart. He had already suffered so much.

"Please, sweetheart," she whispered, gently caressing his cheek. "I need you. You have no idea…no idea how much." She sighed softly, and her tears flowed down her cheeks, over her lips and onto his fingers. "Just fight. I know you're strong. I've done everything I can. You have to wake up. You have to feel me here. You have to…to feel my heart beating for you." She gently cradled his arm against her chest, and she stroked his fingers. "I need you. Your little boy needs you. You need to wake up so we can be together…so we can be a family." The medicine man stirred beside her.

"The Spirits have heard your prayers," Cloud Dancing said softly. "Your love for him is strong."

"I love him more than anything," she whispered.

"They see into your heart. You would have died for him." Michaela let out a soft cry and nodded her head.

"In a minute. He's suffered so much. He doesn't need this. He needs to be happy. That's all I want for him."

"He is strong," Cloud Dancing replied gently. "You make him stronger." Cloud Dancing pulled something out from behind him. It was a soft, tan garment with intricately sewn beads upon the front. "Snow Bird has left this for you. She will tend to your dress. The blood stains are deep, but this will keep you warm until they are clean." Michaela smiled gratefully.

"Thank you," she whispered. Cloud Dancing nodded, and he left the teepee. Michaela quickly began changing out of her clothes and into the buckskin dress that came down to her ankles. She kept her boots on to keep her toes from freezing, and she pulled a blanket around herself. She gently lay down beside Sully and wiped the tears out of her eyes. Her eyes stared into his closed ones. "Please fight. You're the most important thing in my life. I can't lose you." She squeezed his hand. "Do you hear me? I won't let you go. You have to help me. You have to stay strong. Stay strong for me."

December 1870 – St. Louis

By the time Daniel arrived back at the hospital, Carrie was pacing her hospital room frantically. When he opened the door and walked into the room, he was taken aback at her appearance.

"You should be in bed." She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned toward him.

"I wanna get out of this place," she said quickly. "It's makin' me crazy."

"What happened?"

"The doctor…I swear he wanted to put me on some medicine I can't even pronounce. Says it's for melancholia…whatever the hell that is. I want out, Daniel. I just wanna get out of here and stop thinking about this place…the white walls…the white uniforms, the white curtains, the white floors, the white sheets….it's so clean…so depressing. I need fresh air. I need to be outside."

"They're lettin' ya go tomorrow, right?"

"It's too long, Daniel. I need out. I don't wanna sit here and think about what happened. I don't wanna be here. I don't feel right in this place. I ain't got privacy. I ain't got freedom to do anything I wanna do. They keep comin' in to remind me that I lost…lost my baby. I don't like that. It ain't like I forgot. I don't want 'em comin' in to ask me how I'm doin' every ten minutes. It ain't fair, Daniel. I want out!"

She sat down on her bed with a heavy sigh and glanced at him.

"I know ya want out," he said quietly. "I just want ya to be sure it's ok. I don't want ya goin' out there when ya ain't ready. You're recoverin'…"

"Stop," she said quickly, shaking her head. "Not you too."

"It's ok to be upset, Carrie," Daniel pointed out, moving across the room to sit beside her on the side of the bed.

"I am upset. Can't ya see that? I just want out of here. This place is closin' in on me. It's suffocatin'." She took a deep breath. "Ya gotta get me out of here. Please, Daniel. I don't like this place. I want to leave. I'll stay here in a hotel for a day or two if ya want. Just get me out of this hospital. I hate hospitals. I hate doctors. I just want…" Daniel stood quickly. She had made her point.

"Alright. I'll go talk to your doctor. If he says it's safe for ya to go, I'll get ya out of here right now." Carrie breathed a sigh of relief and nodded her head.

"Thank you. That means a lot." Daniel gave her a reassuring smile before leaving the room. She lie back in bed and put her hand upon her stomach. She closed her eyes, keeping the tears from falling, and her lower lip quivered. "I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry."

December 1870 – Cheyenne Reservation

After cleaning up, Michaela returned to Sully's side in the teepee, checking his breathing and his pulse. Judging by his state, he was dreaming, but she couldn't be sure what about. So, she lay down beside him and studied his face, hoping he would wake up soon.

A lock of hair fell into his eyes, and she gently brushed it away with her fingers. With a soft sigh, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you so much," she said gently. "I wish I had said it enough. I…I want you to wake up, and if you do, I'll tell you a dozen times a day for the rest of our lives." She grinned and gently traced his jaw line with her fingertips.

At the sound of Johnny's voice, Michaela sat up, and she studied the entrance of the teepee. A few moments later, a head full of hair just like Sully's poked through, and two crystal blue eyes stared back at her. She smiled nervously and motioned for him to come in. Slowly, he entered and closed the flap behind him.

"Is he ok?" Johnny asked softly. Michaela nodded her head.

"He's strong. He's fighting, Johnny."

"He won't leave, will he?" Before Michaela could answer, Johnny put his hand on his father's arm. "I wouldn't blame him. After what I said…why would he wanna stay for me?" She sadly recalled feelings of self-blame after her own father's death. She'd been much older than Johnny, but the questions in her heart had remained the same. Why did he leave? Why couldn't he stay and be there with her?

"Johnny…your father loves you. He talked about you so much…even before he knew you were…were here." That put a sparkle in Johnny's eyes, and he reminded her so much of Sully at that moment.

"He did?"

"He did," she assured him. Johnny swallowed hard and wiped his eyes again. He hung his head.

"I didn't mean to say those things," he said quietly. "I just thought…I…" Michaela reached over and gently placed her hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You can tell him when he wakes. I'm sure he understands, and he'll tell you that when he's feeling better." Johnny shook his head.

"What if he don't wake up?"

"He will."

"Grandma didn't. Grandpa didn't." Michaela nodded and scooted over to the other side of the teepee, nervously sitting down beside Johnny.

"He's going to wake up. Do you know how I know?" Johnny shook his head.

"How?" Michaela chose her words carefully. This conversation was possibly the bridge that could bring them closer, but she knew that one wrong word could make things worse for all of them. She had to be herself for him. She had to let him know that he could trust her.

"Because I took the bullet out and sewed him up myself. I know that there is no infection, and if he rests, he'll feel better and regain his strength."

"When will he wake up?" Michaela frowned, trying to stay positive for the boy, but her own optimism was quickly failing her.

"I don't know, but I'm sure it'll be soon." She gently felt Sully's forehead. No fever.

"Dr. Mike?" Johnny briefly fidgeted with a loose string on his shirt.

"Hmm?" She brushed a stray tear from her cheek. She glanced at the boy, but he gently picked at the sole of his boot.

"Does Pa love you like he loved my ma?" Michaela froze. How was she supposed to answer that question to a ten-year-old boy?

"Johnny, people love other people in various ways…"

"But you're getting married," Johnny insisted. "He's gotta love ya like he loved my ma." Michaela cleared her throat.

"Johnny, when people get married, it should be because of love, and yes…your father does love me, and I love him…very, very much. I do want you to know that…I know you need time with your father. He needs time with you."

"I never knew my ma," Johnny said sadly. In a way, Michaela felt as if she knew Abagail personally, though they had never even met. She knew so much about her through what Sully had told her, and it was amazing to see this child…Sully's child…Abagail's child before her.

"I know. I want you to know that I don't expect to take her place, because I know that she's the woman who brought you into this world, and you still have a strong connection with her."

"I don't even know her."

"You don't, but she's still with you, Johnny. You look so very much like your father, but that smile of yours…it must belong to your mother." Johnny smiled a little. "See. Your father doesn't smile like that. You have a part of her. You carry it with you, and that's a wonderful thing."

"I guess," he said softly. He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Dr. Mike. Thanks…thanks for tryin' to save my pa. If he wakes up…I'll tell him it's ok if he gets married. I just want him to wake up. I don't want him to leave me too." Michaela swallowed the lump in her throat and watched the boy cry over his father. Her heart was terrified that she was going to lose him, but she knew he was strong. She knew he would live. He had to live.

"Don't worry, Johnny," was all she could offer.

When she heard Cloud Dancing's voice nearing the teepee, she quickly pulled on her coat and stepped outside. Their eyes met, and she hurried toward him.

"Did you find him? Did you find…who shot Sully?" Cloud Dancing glanced toward the search party, weary and chilled to the bone.

"They found a bullet casing, but there were deer tracks in the snow." Cloud Dancing shook his head. "The Spirits say it was a hunting accident. The deer was spared, but Sully was not. How is my brother?" Devastated, Michaela nearly sank to her knees. An accident? Accidents weren't supposed to leave a man fighting for his life with the possibility of having temporary paralysis.

"An accident?" she asked, gritting her teeth and shaking her head. "It…Sully is lying in there shot, and it was a hunting accident?" She couldn't believe that. A hunting accident had nearly killed the man she loved.

"How is he?" Cloud Dancing asked again. Michaela swallowed the anger that was building up inside of her and she placed her hand over her mouth.

"He's resting," she said flatly. "He's holding his own." She turned and walked back to the teepee, crawling inside to keep warm, but she felt so cold. Never in Boston or San Francisco would she have imagined something like this happening by accident. They were in a completely different place now. It was a different world. She knew that these things happened, but why did they have to happen to the man she loved? It wasn't fair. She wanted to take his pain. She wanted to feel it herself so he wouldn't have to.

When she glanced at Johnny, she noticed that he was now holding the dream catcher. He slowly placed it in the palm of his father's hand.

"There. This way he won't have bad dreams while he's sleepin'."

"I'm sure he won't," Michaela said quietly. "I bet he's dreaming about you right now…about all of the fishing trips you'll take…all of the fun times you'll have together." Johnny shook his head.

"Naw. He's probably dreamin' of both of us." He sighed quietly and lay down next to his father. Michaela, feeling her body relax in exhaustion, collapsed at Sully's other side, gently taking his hand in hers. She closed her eyes and yawned tiredly. Johnny's took Sully's other hand, and they were connected as a family for the first time. Softly, Michaela began to hum a soft tune that lulled herself and Sully's little boy right to sleep to dream without fear and without pain.

December 1870 – Boston

"Three tickets, please," Elizabeth Quinn said with a nervous but certain nod.

"Where to, Ma'am?" the young man behind the desk asked. Elizabeth gazed back at an uncertain Rebecca and her sleeping daughter.

"Colorado Springs."