February 1871 – Colorado Springs
"Well, look what the cat dragged in." A spiral of smoke complemented those words, as a smirk spread across his face. He popped open a fresh bottle of whiskey and poured out a shot. Jake glared at him from the door and took a seat at the end of the bar. "What's the matter, Jake? Cat got your tongue?" Jake said nothing, and Hank shook his head, knowing that Jake had his mood swings. Whiskey was the one thing that could balance him out, but unfortunately, that balance was usually on the negative side. He'd seen men worse off than Jake before, and their lives were reduced to ruins. Jake was on the fast track to destroying everything in his life.
"Can I get another whiskey?" Tommy James asked, putting down another quarter. Hank merely nodded and slid him a glass. "Thank ya kindly." Tommy slowly drank down the biting liquor before standing up, putting on his hat and starting toward the door. Jake caught his eye for a moment, but he couldn't place where he'd seen him before. He nodded to the bartender and left. Hank shook his head and moved down to talk to Jake. A few of the girls were fluttering around Jake, but a few cold stares from him told them that he wasn't there for that.
"That old man sure knows how to drink," Hank laughed, trying to ease the tension in the air. But, Jake wasn't in the mood for that.
"Can't a man drink in peace?" Hank eyed him, and he shook his head. He knew he truly had no right to tell him what to do with his wife, considering he was the one that was supplying him with the liquor, but a man had to make a living.
"Ya know, Jake, ya really need to put it behind ya. Everything…everything happened a long time ago." Those words slapped Jake hard in the face. Abagail. The fire. The kids. Sully's absence. His jealousy. He wanted to throttle Hank for bringing it all up in just a few words, but the truth was that it never left him.
"What do you know? You don't know nothin'."
"Oh, I don't?" Hank asked. "I happen to know that you're makin' yourself and this town look bad by goin' on these binges. I got half a mind to cut you off, Mayor."
"Ya wouldn't do that. I'm your best customer," Jake sneered, tossing a dollar bill down onto the damp counter. "Keep 'em comin'." Hank shook his head but merely poured out another drink for him, as Jake glanced at the double doors that Tommy had recently passed through. "That fella…"
"The one that just left?"
"Yeah. Looks familiar." Hank nodded and smirked.
"Well, ain't you s'posed to be the mayor? Ya ought to know…"
"Who is he?" Jake asked, deciding he wasn't in the mood for playing games. "I seen him before, I just…"
"Ya just drunk him outta your mind. I'm tellin' ya, Jake, I seen good men drink themselves stupid."
"Well, that ain't stoppin' you from sellin' the stuff, is it?" Hank decided not to protest, and he shook his head.
"Name's Tommy James. He makes his money drivin' cattle from…" That was enough. Jake knew.
"What?" Jake asked immediately, his body stiffening at the name.
"Yeah. Him and his girl…I expect they'll be leavin' soon."
"His girl…" Those eyes. That mouth. It was her.
"Yeah. Carrie. I think that's her name. She's been stayin' at the clinic with the doc and that Simon fella." Jake stood up and moved to the doors, staring out across to the clinic, where Carrie and Daniel were talking with Tommy. He eyed them, and then he saw that smile; that smile that lit up her face. He'd seen it once before years ago. And then he'd taken it away.
He stepped back and turned toward Hank.
"What's wrong with you?"
"I gotta go," Jake replied, putting down another bill and grabbing a full bottle of whiskey from the other side of the counter. Hank knew better than to try to stop him. He knew that either Jake was going to save himself or he was going to die feeling miserable, just the way he was making everybody else feel.
The February sun was surprisingly warm, and the citizens of Colorado Springs felt fortunate that the snow was practically completely melted.
A dance was coming up soon, as was the beloved new doctor's birthday, and a buzz was in the air. People were more cheerful…even Carrie, who had seemed to come out of her shell a little since arriving in town.
"I'm gonna head out to get ready for the cattle drive in a few days," Tommy said, leaning against the porch post. Carrie's eyes met Daniel's.
"Oh," Carrie said quietly. She and Daniel still had their qualms about leaving or staying, and now that Daniel knew the truth about Jake, he was more interested in seeing to it that Carrie was safe. It didn't really matter where they went off to or not, though he felt as if he had a little more control over their safety if they were in sight of the danger. "Well, we was plannin' on leavin' soon, I think, but Pa, ya gotta stay just a few more days."
"Why's that?"
"Well, 'cause the Sweetheart's Dance is on Saturday, and I just wanna watch you get all dressed up and out on that dance floor," Carrie teased. Daniel and Tommy exchanged amused glances. Carrie's disposition had changed immensely over the past few weeks. She was still uncertain about many people, but when it came to her father, to Daniel, to Sully, to Michaela, or to Grace and Miss Olive, she was less hesitant about being herself.
"What about you, Danny Boy? You stayin' to take my little girl to the dance?" Daniel saw Jake's shadow pacing around the porch of the saloon out of the corner of his eyes. Carrie noticed that Daniel was distracted, but she turned toward her father.
"He hasn't asked me yet," she said with a disappointed frown, knowing that he was the only one that would ask. Her statement brought Daniel's attention back to her, and she smiled coyly.
"Well, ya ain't givin' me any time now, are ya?" Carrie laughed, and Tommy shook his head.
"Well, while you two sort this out, I'm gonna go send a couple telegrams…tell the trail boss I'll be a couple days late." Carrie grinned and hugged her father, grateful to have him back in her life; grateful to have a chance to try to patch things up. She knew he had done the best he could. She only wished her mother was there to see how things were improving.
"Alright," Carrie responded. Tommy walked off, and Carrie turned to Daniel. "So…anything ya wanna ask me?"
"Well, not that I can think of, " Daniel teased. Carrie raised an eyebrow.
"That so? Well, I guess I'll just have to go talk to Dr. Mike and see if she won't mind sharin' Sully." Daniel knew what she was trying to do, and as she pretended to walk off, he grabbed her hand. She smiled and turned back around. "Aren't you finished?"
"Not quite." She smiled, but she didn't expect what was coming next. He slowly bent down and gently pressed his lips against hers. He pulled back in a moment, but he had held the kiss long enough for a spark to ignite through her body. He saw a blush of crimson flash across her cheeks, followed by a hint of desire in her eyes. "Will you go to the Sweetheart's Dance with me?" She responded with a nod, and he gently caressed her cheek. A fresh, new heat began to rise within her, and she quickly backed away, clearing her throat.
"Well then," she finally whispered. "I best go see about getting me a new dress." Daniel grinned at her and watched her hurry off, as he went to see if he could make himself useful somewhere.
"You sure you're feelin' up to goin' to the dance?" Sully asked, as stood beside Michaela, who was sorting through new packages of medicine in the side room.
"Of course," she replied with a smile. "Besides, my birthday is the next day. Your taking me can be both a Valentine's Day and a birthday present." She laughed a little. "When my mother went into labor with me, Father wanted so badly for her to have me on Valentine's Day. I was born shortly after midnight on the fifteenth." She smiled at the thought of her parents telling her that when she was little, but it made her miss her mother all the more.
But, her sadness was replace by happiness, when Sully's hand placed lovingly against her stomach. She looked up into his eyes and smiled with relief in knowing that the man she loved couldn't wait to be a father.
"I think I felt somethin'," Sully said with a laugh, as he stood with his hand on Michaela's still flat belly. She couldn't help but giggle.
"I'm afraid it's a bit too early to feel much of anything." Sully frowned, but he quickly drew his beautiful fiancée into a loving kiss. She grinned against his lips, as his stubble tickled her chin.
"Am…am I squeezin' ya too tight?" She laughed again.
"No. No, you aren't. Don't worry, Sully. I'm fine. The baby's fine."
"I'm sorry…I don't mean to keep askin' so many questions. It's just that when Abby was pregnant…well, we were both still real young, and lots of stuff was pretty much a mystery to us. But…this time around, I wanna know everything." Michaela grinned at his eagerness. "I wanna be there for everything. I wanna feel the baby kickin', and…and I wanna be there to hear her first cries."
"Her?"
"Yeah." Michaela laughed and shook her head.
"I'm afraid we'll have to wait a while for that too, Mr. Sully." She grinned and softly kissed him. "But you have no idea how happy it makes me to see you so involved." Sully's hand gently caressed her tummy again. "I promise, when the baby kicks, you'll be the first person I'll tell." Sully beamed with pride, and she raised an eyebrow. "I'll tell you what."
"What?"
"I have a book you can read."
"A book?"
"Uh huh," she said with a smile. "We'll read it together. It's medical, but it's very informative." Sully raised an eyebrow, but she tugged on his hand. "Come along. Let me show you."
"Miss Olive? How about this pattern?" Carrie asked, pointing out one that required a lot of lace. Olive turned from the counter and walked over toward her daughter. She smiled a little, and she nodded her head.
"I think that'd look just fine on you."
"You think? I ain't sure I'll have time to make it. The dance is just under a week away." Olive spoke before she could think.
"Well, why don't I help ya with it?" Carrie's eyes widened.
"You'd do that? I ain't real good with a needle and thread, but I sure can rope a calf. I s'pose a little help would be good." Olive smiled a little and nodded her head.
"Believe me, I got ropin' hands too, and I made all my dresses." Carrie smiled.
"You goin' to the dance, Miss Olive?" Olive shook her head quickly.
"No, no. Never much cared for them dances."
"Oh, you should come. You been workin' hard, and ya should have some fun." Her eyes widened. "I got the perfect date for ya!"
"You do?" Olive wondered. Carrie nodded excitedly.
"My pa don't have a date neither. This is perfect!" Olive's eyes widened with horror and fear, and she shook her head.
"No. I couldn't. I…"
"Oh, come on now, Miss Olive. My pa is a real nice man. He's a gentleman. Just give him a chance. I'm gonna go talk to him now." She paid Olive for the pattern and left quickly without another word exchanged between the two. Olive placed her hand on her forehead and shook her head, wondering if this was God's way of punishing her for everything she had done wrong.
Carrie tucked her money back into her coin purse, as she started across to the clinic to pick up a heavier shawl before going to find her father. But, as she stepped closer, her eyes set upon a sight that made her heart stop and her body freeze. Jake Slicker still stood on the porch of the saloon, his eyes fixated on her. The only word that came to her lips didn't make a sound.
"No," she mouthed, tears immediately flooding to her eyes as she saw the recognition in his. She swallowed hard and started to pick up the pace toward the clinic, figuring he would try to avoid her as much as she was trying to avoid him. But when he came toward her, she knew he remembered, and she wanted to get away all the more.
"Carrie!" he called, chilling her to her very core, but she quickened her pace again, wanting to get out of sight immediately. "Wait!" He was drunk. She could smell the whiskey on him already, and the words were slurring together just like she remembered. He hadn't changed. "Carrie James!"
"Get away from me," she pleaded, as he crossed the stretch between them, closing the gap quickly. "Please, get away from me." He put his hands on her shoulders, trying to look her in the eyes, but she shrugged away.
"What's wrong? Ain't ya happy to s-see me? It's been a long…a long time."
"Get away!" she cried, as a few onlookers began to stop in the street.
"What'd I do?" She glared into his eyes, and she knew that his memories were fuzzy.
"Why don't ya go drown in your whiskey bottle and maybe you'll remember," she hissed, stepping up onto the porch clinic. She turned toward the clinic door, but he reached out for her. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp again, but she found herself freezing up at the memories.
"Tell me what I d-did wrong!" Jake demanded. "I don't…I don't remember r-real…real well."
"Get your hands off me!" she yelled angrily, her blood boiling. "Just get away!"
Michaela and Sully sat side by side behind Michaela's desk, peering down at a book. A perplexed look creased Sully's brow, as Michaela explained to him the various stages of pregnancy. But, just as she was about talk about the ninth month, a commotion outside startled them both. A woman's voice crying out caused Michaela's eyes to widen.
"What's goin' on?" Sully asked, as he and Michaela looked up from the pregnancy book.
"That sounds like Carrie." Michaela quickly stuck the book inside of a desk drawer, and she and Sully made their way to the door. Michaela opened it quickly and found Carrie stalking down the porch toward her. Jake Slicker was right behind her.
"Sully," Michaela hissed, beckoning him over.
"Get away!" she cried. "Just leave me alone!"
"Carrie! What's goin' on?" Sully demanded.
"Let me in," she pleaded. "Please. He's drunk. He…" Michaela immediately moved out of the way, and she began to close the door.
"Wait!" Jake yelled, putting his foot in the doorway to stop it from closing in his face.
"Get out, Jake. Ya ain't getting in. Not like this," Sully warned.
"I ain't talkin' to you! I wanna see Carrie!" he demanded. "I wanna know what I did!"
"Ya know what you did!" Carrie screamed suddenly. "Ya know exactly what ya did!" Jake looked at her with puzzlement in his eyes. "No? Well, let me refresh your memory." Her flooding tears broke the damn and rampaged down her pale face. "You pretended to be my friend! You told me ya lost somebody important to ya. Then…then…" She shook her head, angrier by the moment. "I told ya you were hurtin' me! Ya didn't care. Ya didn't! And then ya left!" Michaela left Sully in charge of the door and rushed to Carrie's side to comfort her. Jake looked as if he'd been slapped in the face, and that gave Sully enough of a chance to close the door. But, before he could lock it, the door came swinging inward, and he came toward Carrie.
"I wanna talk to you!" he demanded.
"Get out!" Carrie moved away, and Michaela turned just in time for Jake to smack into her, sending her flying to the floor with a heavy thud. Sully's heart jumped into his throat, and he froze for a moment before regaining the feeling in his feet.
"Michaela!" Sully called out, rushing to her side and helping her to stand.
"I'm fine! I'm fine," she told him. Carrie was backed against the wall, her cheeks stained with tears, and Sully lunged at Jake before he could hurt anybody else. Jake stumbled, and they fell to the floor. Jake hit his head, and in a few seconds, he went out cold. Silence filled for the next few moments, before Hank and Daniel rushed inside.
Michaela stood in astonishment, afraid of what to do. She was terrified for the life of her unborn child, and she hoped to God the fall hadn't harmed it. And she saw the look in Sully's eyes as he came toward her. She knew the same thought was torturing his mind.
"You sure you're ok?" he asked, putting an arm around her waist. She smiled uncertainly but nodded her head.
"What the hell happened?" Hank asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes, while Daniel pulled Carrie into his arms. She silently cursed herself for letting herself weaken, but his arms pulled tightly around her, protecting her from her past, and she sought comfort there.
"Jake came after her," Sully said angrily. "And in the meantime, he knocked Michaela down."
"You ok?" Daniel wondered. Sully nearly snapped at him for his insensitivity, but he quickly realized that nobody knew the reasons for his panic. Michaela gently squeezed his shoulder.
"I'm fine," she said quietly, her eyes begging him to believe her. "No harm done." He wasn't sure, but he decided to believe her for now.
Jake moaned, and he started to come to. Hank hauled him up onto his feet and grabbed him by the back of the shirt, yanking him out of the clinic roughly.
"I'll get him sobered up."
"Best stop servin' him while you're at it," Daniel remarked hotly, slamming the door behind him. Carrie and Michaela both jumped. "Sorry. But, it's 'bout time this town got a sheriff. I swear if the council don't hire one soon, I'm gonna step in and do it myself 'fore Jake gets somebody killed." Michaela winced a little, and Sully noticed. He knew the thought that was rolling through her mind. What if Jake's rampage actually had gotten somebody killed? And, his eyes moved to her belly, where her hand was placed worriedly. He searched for her gaze, but Michaela's eyes were selflessly focused on Carrie.
"Are you alright?" She only nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it? I…"
"No. I'll be alright. I just wanna go for a walk. I wanna get my mind off of it."
"I'll go with ya," Daniel assured her. "C'mon." She nodded her thanks and smiled up at him gratefully. He brushed away her tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."
"It wasn't your fault," she assured him. "None of it is. It's just my past comin' back at me full force, and…"
"Ya don't deserve that." He pulled his arm around her, and she sighed softly, as he led her from the clinic and into the street.
Sully immediately closed the world out of the clinic and took Michaela's hands in his.
"Are ya sure you're ok?" he asked. "The baby?"
"We're fine," she said quietly. "I…I just need a little air." She swallowed hard and started toward the door, but at that moment, a sharp pain rushed through her body, and her knees buckled underneath her. She began to fall, as their hopes and dreams of the future fell with her.
"Michaela!" He caught her but fell with her onto his knees. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, as she cried out in pain.
"No! Not the baby," she cried. "No! No…" Her cries were muffled in his shirt, as he sat frozen in terror with his heart song hunched over in pain in his arms.
February 1871 – Boston
Mother,
Mary and I are well. Michaela and Sully too. My job couldn't be better. A dance is coming up. Timothy has asked me to go. I've accepted. A party is being planned in honor of Michaela's birthday. Hope all is well.
Love,
R.B.
Elizabeth sighed softly, as she read her daughter's telegram. She missed Michaela and Rebecca terribly, and though she had received word from both of them often, she couldn't bring herself to say anything to them. She had said enough to last a lifetime, and she didn't know what else was left except for what Michaela truly wanted. She just wasn't ready to give her that yet.
She placed the telegram into her bedside drawer with the others and picked up a frame with her wedding picture in it. She smiled at a young Josef's broad smile, as his arm tucked lovingly around her young waist, hiding a secret as big as the entire world.
They hadn't had much of a choice. She would either be a single mother with no money or family, or a wife and mother with more than enough money to meet her needs for the rest of her life. She hadn't had a choice for either herself or for the baby, but she had never regretted marrying him. She knew it had been the right choice. He had given her a beautiful family. He had given her a life she had never been able to imagine, and there was not one second she regretted.
The chiming of the clock startled her from her rest, and she pulled herself up and toward the window. She settled down into a comfortable chair and watched Boston's people pass by minute by minute. She had to admit that after coming back from Colorado Springs, she was overwhelmed at how busy her own hometown was. It was even noisier at night, and those first few nights back in Boston had been nearly unbearable, though she couldn't be for certain if it was the noise or the guilt she felt for leaving her daughters with such a revelation and so little of an explanation. But, how could they possibly understand what she had gone through? How?
March 1830 - Boston
"Wake up, Stephen," she begged, as she sat at his bedside with his hand in hers. "Please wake up. Don't leave me like this." She bowed her head and let her tears slip out, covering the back of his limp hand.
Josef stood in the doorway, his pocket watch that ticked away the last minutes of Stephen's life was in his hand. He watched Elizabeth slump over him and beg him to stay with her, and his heart broke. Seeing her hurting made him hurt. He had never intended to feel this way for her, but his heart couldn't lie, and his mother had always told him that.
He moved out into the hallway, as Elizabeth's cries deafened his ears. He knew he would be needed in a few moments.
Her cries ticked away the moments louder than the grandfather clock that seemed to be beating Stephen's final moments out in the continuous motion of time and with more resistance than any patient Josef had ever seen before. Stephen was a fighter, and he refused to let go.
"Josef! I need you! He's…he's not waking!" Elizabeth cried out, as she touched her husband's solemn face. Josef quickly stepped inside and moved to the bed. He took out his stethoscope and listened to Stephen's ever slowing heart until the moment in ceased to continue on.
"Time of death: 6:32 A.M." Josef closed his pocket watch, and the sound reverberated through Elizabeth's ears, as the realization that her husband…her Stephen was dead began to pierce her soul with the pain of a thousand deaths. Now her tears fell silently, and her shoulders slumped. Her hand placed flat against her belly, and she wept without restraint, moving from silent tears to heavy sobs and longings for her husband to open his eyes and smile at her again.
"You can't be gone," she sobbed. "Not now." Josef reached out to touch her shoulder, but she shrugged his hand away, not wanting his comfort right now. All she wanted was the man she had vowed herself to forever.
"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth."
"It wasn't supposed to be this way," she cried, her tears shedding the memories and the happiness of their short-lived marriage.
"I did everything I could." He still felt guilty. He couldn't help it. How could he have brought such pain to her?
"We had the rest of our lives together. We…we were going to have a family, Josef!" Josef nodded and hung his head.
"I'm so sorry for your loss." He swallowed hard and moved away. "I'll give you a moment." She nodded and listened to his footsteps echo out into the hall.
Outside, Josef leaned against the wall and thought sadly about the last conversation he had had with Stephen, before he'd slipped into unconsciousness.
"Is she sleeping?" Stephen asked, barely able to keep his eyes open, as sweat poured down his face. Josef cleared his throat and nodded his head.
"I've just checked on her. She's resting."
"Good." Stephen swallowed with great difficulty and closed his eyes. "She deserves to rest. She doesn't deserve any of this. Not now."
"Elizabeth's a strong woman."
"She is. That's why I fell in love with her." Stephen smiled slowly. "The first time I saw her, she was beating up a neighbor boy." Josef raised an eyebrow, wishing he had known that side of Elizabeth. "She was four, and he was ten." They both shared a short laugh together. "She's the strongest woman I know, Dr. Quinn, and I can't leave this life knowing that she's alone…with our child and no family to turn to. No matter how strong she is, that doesn't make up for the burdens I'm leaving her with."
"Don't think about that right now, Stephen," Josef advised. Stephen shook his head with a knowing look upon his face.
"We both know that if I don't talk about it now, it won't happen." Josef merely nodded in understanding and checked Stephen's pulse. Slow, weak, but steady. "I know her mother shut her out, because she wanted her to marry you." Josef looked away. "And, when I'm gone, I want her to still have her family. I love that woman more than my life. She is my life. I want her to be happy and cared for, and I want that for my baby." Even though he knew, he still had to ask.
"What are you asking me, Stephen?" With a slow but sure nod, Stephen continued.
"I'm asking you to take care of her. Don't let my burdens shame her or that child."
"Stephen, you don't have to worry about Elizabeth or your child. I promise you that I will see to it that she and the child are taken care of. You don't need to worry yourself."
"I have seen you look at her. I know you care about her." Josef couldn't hide his guilt, and Stephen took a slow, deep breath. "I want that for her."
"Elizabeth is a woman that knows her own mind," Josef finally pointed out. "She won't let anybody control her life, and I wouldn't want to do that anyway."
"No, but she's going to need somebody to lean on after I'm gone. She's going to need somebody to…to…to help her pull her relationship with her family back together."
"That's up to her, Stephen, and I…"
"Promise me, doctor. Promise me you won't let her be alone. Promise me you'll…you'll be there for her. I know she can trust you."
"You don't know what you're asking, Stephen," Josef said awkwardly.
"Oh, I know. A dying man always knows," Stephen said quietly. He swallowed painfully and groaned slightly, but he held his hand up weakly, when Josef tried to check him. "Promise me!" Josef looked into the desperate eyes of a dying man, and he finally nodded his head.
"I promise." A flood of relief washed over the young man's face, and he sunk down into the bed.
"Good. Now…I'd like to see my wife. I want to say goodbye."