Chapter 56

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

He held her close, as she began to relax in his arms. But, she didn't move anymore. She didn't dare to move for fear that she would put her unborn child in further jeopardy. He didn't want to move either, because he was afraid that if he did something wrong, they would both pay for it.

"Sully," she whispered. "Sully, I need Charlotte." Sully gently kissed her temple and smoothed back her hair.

"Alright. I'll…alright." He was trying not to panic or go after Jake and beat him within an inch of his life. He had to focus on her; on their child. But, before Sully could move, the door opened, and Johnny came in with his schoolbooks. He froze in his spot, seeing his father and future stepmother in a heap on the floor.

"Pa!"

"Charlotte," Michaela winced. Sully nodded to his son.

"Go get Charlotte. Tell her that Dr. Mike needs her right away."

"What's wrong?" Johnny asked quickly, tossing his books to the side and glancing at Michaela with fear apparent in his young, wise eyes.

"I'll tell ya everything later, son. I promise. Just go get Charlotte." Johnny didn't ask any further questions and hurried off to do as his father asked. Michaela squeezed Sully's hand, and she looked up into his eyes.

"I need…I need to lie down, Sully," she whispered. Sully nodded, and he slowly stood up, scooping her into his arms, and he began to carry her up the stairs so she would be comfortable. Michaela clung to Sully's neck, and when he placed her down into her bed, she curled up into a ball on her side. Sully stood there helplessly, wondering what he could say to make her feel better. "Can I get…get ya anything?"

"Just stay," she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly. "The pain is going away. It's…it's not so bad anymore." He didn't know if she was trying to make him feel better or not, but he sat down at her bedside and took her hand in his. Once in a while, he'd feel a mighty squeeze, and the seconds began to tick by louder and slower than usual. Everything was blurring together, as the love of his life fought for her—no their—child's life. He knew there wasn't much she could do. It wasn't in her hands anymore.

"It's gonna be alright, Michaela. You'll see. You, me, Johnny, and this baby…we're gonna be a family no matter what. It's gonna take some work, but we'll get there. We're strong, Michaela. You're the strongest woman I know. This baby…"

"You can't make promises you aren't certain of," she breathed, relaxing after the pain began to dissipate.

"I know, Michaela. I feel it in my heart. Everything's gonna be alright."

"Dr. Mike?" The sound of two sets of feet hurrying up the stairs caused Sully to rush into the hallway, ushering Charlotte inside. Johnny stood in the doorway, frightened of what was happening. He didn't know what was wrong, and that worried him the most.

"Ya gotta help her," Sully begged, as he moved back to Michaela's side.

"I'm gonna do the best I can. You just take the boy out into the hall."

"But what's wrong?" Johnny demanded. Sully looked at Michaela, and her tear-flooded eyes told him what he had to do. She nodded slowly, and Johnny hurried to her bedside. "You're alright, ain't ya, Dr. Mike? What's wrong?"

"It's alright, Johnny," Michaela whispered. "You just…you just go out into the hall with your father, and…and he'll explain it. If you have questions later…we'll sit right here and talk about it. Alright?" She tried to suppress the pain in her voice, but she couldn't hide the truth. Johnny glanced up at Sully, and Sully nodded, swallowing hard. He didn't want to leave her, but he knew that he would only get in the way.

"I'll be right outside," Sully promised her, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. He smoothed the hair away from her forehead and kissed her there too, and she grabbed his hand for a moment, squeezing it tightly in fear and concern for her child; for their family.

Charlotte's eyes were full of sheer worry. She'd seen this before, and most of the time, the pregnancies ended painfully.

"Take him for a walk, Sully. Wire for Dr. Bernard," Charlotte called. "He'll need to get here soon." Sully nodded and took his son's hand.

"C'mon, Johnny." They moved swiftly out of the room and down the stairs.

"What's wrong, Pa? What's goin' on?"

"I…I'll tell ya just as soon as I wire for Dr. Bernard."

February 1871 – Boston

"Will that be all?" Martha asked, as her eyes cast a concerned beacon of gray upon Elizabeth's somber face.

"Yes. Yes, thank you, Martha." Martha nodded and shut the doors to Elizabeth's bedroom. Elizabeth hadn't left it in days. She grew more melancholy by the day, and it concerned the old housemaid. Though Elizabeth had been her employer for quite some time, she felt an almost sisterly bond with her. Of course, she knew that Elizabeth would never feel the same, but she had grown up most of her life in that house, caring for the Quinn's as if they were her own family. She had spent a good half of her life there, and she didn't regret a moment of it. She only wished she knew what to do now to help Elizabeth out of whatever was troubling her.

Elizabeth settled down onto the floor, dressed in her sleeping gown. Her tired hands ran over the smooth oak chest that sat at the foot of the bed. It hadn't been opened in years, and the memories that were locked tightly inside were beating at the lid like a silent but deafening drum. This drum beat out the memories of her life and the pain she'd kept hidden under petticoats and fancy ball gowns. She had wanted to hide it forever, but it had only been a matter of time before the world knew.

1830 – Boston

She placed a fresh batch of flowers on his grave, as her hand traveled over her still flat stomach. No word from her family, and Josef's constant attention had her mind spinning and her heart twisting into knots.

Slowly, she settled down onto the soft earth, where the dirt was still loose from Stephen's burial. She couldn't believe he was lying just a few feet beneath her, as still and cold as death, unable to hear her or see her or touch her. She wanted to feel him, and she wanted to tell him so many things she hadn't been able to before he'd left her.

"You left," she whispered. "And we were going to spend forever together." She slowly removed her gloves and adjusted her skirt around her bent legs. She ran her pale fingers over the dark earth and felt the cold dampness of Spring against her fingertips.

The heavens rumbled, and Elizabeth looked upward, searching for answers and finding none. She breathed in and out steadily, feeling the sun bathe down onto her and soak into her dress, warming her body and filling her with an emptiness unlike any she had ever felt.

"I don't know what to do without you, Stephen. I would gladly give up everything in this world to have you back. I never expected this. I never…I never did. And I never thought I would say that my mother was right." She bowed her head. "She said that if I married you, I would only find heartache. I didn't want to believe her, yet here I am…sitting on your grave. My heart is broken, Stephen. You left me, and you left this child." She pressed her hands deeper into the dirt, searching for the pulse. She wanted to feel his heart beating against her hand, and she slowly lay down beside the headstone, as her silky hair spilled out over the green grass. She closed her eyes and listened to the wind whisper in her ear.

"I'll take care of you forever. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it."

She opened her eyes and stared across at Josef, as they sat at the breakfast table. She blinked the tears from her eyes, and he looked into hers sorrowfully. She had been thinking of him again, and he didn't blame her.

"Elizabeth? Did you hear me?"

"I heard you," she confirmed with a nod. "I heard you. Go on, Josef." Her stomach wasn't hungry, so she pushed her plate away.

"Elizabeth, you must eat something."

"I can't keep anything down, Josef," she replied, taking a sip of water. "And Stephen's banker will be here soon."

"Would you like me to handle it?"

"No. I was his wife. I can do this." Josef swallowed hard.

"And you're my wife now, and I'm worried about you." Elizabeth looked down into her hands, and she blinked back the tears.

"I'm not a good wife for you," she whispered, her hand shaking against the glass of water. Josef reached across the table, taking her free hand in his. "I can't even…I can't…"

"That doesn't matter, Elizabeth. You can have as much time as you need. I told you when we married that my intention was to care for you forever, and I will. I'll care for you the way I promised Stephen I would, and I will care for you right here." He placed his hand over his heart. "I do love you, Elizabeth. I don't expect you to love me, but just know that I would do anything for my family, and you…you are my family." Josef let go of her hand and stood from the table.

"Josef?"

"I'm going to pick up your mother. She's coming for tea." He started toward the door, but Elizabeth reached out, taking his hand in hers.

"You know that the only reason she's coming is because I married you." Josef nodded.

"But at least she is coming. She's making an effort, Elizabeth."

"A selfish one." Elizabeth stood to face him. "Stephen wasn't even buried for a month before we were getting married, Josef." She dried her tears. "I know he wanted this for me, but it isn't fair. I can't stop loving him."

"I don't expect you to. It hasn't even been two months. I don't expect you'll ever stop loving him, Elizabeth. I just want you to be happy. That's what I'm trying to do. I want you to have your mother in your life, and…"

"What if I don't want her? Josef, did you ever think about that?"

"But you do, Elizabeth. She is your mother." Elizabeth shook her head and sighed with frustration.

"She didn't even come to our wedding, Josef. She knew…I wrote her, but I never received a reply." Josef nodded his head.

"I just want you to be happy."

"I'll be happy, but I don't need her for that." Josef nodded solemnly.

"You know your own mind, Elizabeth. I won't try to tell you what to think, but I will try to help you figure out what it is you really want." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'll be back shortly." She watched him walk away and slowly sunk back down into the chair. In walked Fiona, who had quit her services with the O'Connor family. She had stayed on with Elizabeth and Josef, and she assured them that she would help care for the child once it was born.

"How are you feeling today, Mrs. O'…" She froze. "…Mrs. Quinn?" Her mistake had not gone unnoticed by Elizabeth, but Elizabeth decided to let it go.

"I'm a bit tired, Fiona. I have a few matters to deal with, but would you mind turning down the bed? I'd like a nap before Josef returns with my mother"

"Dr. Quinn's bed?" Fiona asked, knowing it wasn't her place to pry. She knew rightfully well which bed Elizabeth meant. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Quinn. It is none of my business." She started toward the stairs, but Elizabeth stopped her.

"Fiona…"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Please, give yourself the day off," she said quietly. "I think I'd like to be alone today."

"Are you certain, Mrs. Quinn?"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied with a nod. "That'll be all, Fiona." Fiona nodded and left Elizabeth alone in the dining room. A moment later, Elizabeth moved to the parlor and looked out into the street, where she saw a carriage pulling up with two gentlemen inside. One, she recognized as Stephen's banker, Mr. Preston A. Lodge, and the other was his apprentice and son, Preston A. Lodge Jr. The elder was a stuffy and snake-like businessman, and he had certainly bred his successor to be just like him.

Elizabeth quickly smoothed out her skirts. She had been putting this off for weeks. She was afraid of what was coming.

Elizabeth opened the door to greet them before they even made it up the path.

"Ah, Mrs. Quinn. It's lovely to see you."

"Mr. Lodge," Elizabeth said with a firm smile. She nodded to his son. "Come in, please."

"We can't stay, I'm afraid," the elder Lodge said with a grim nod. "We have come to deliver the paperwork for…what's left of your husband's estate." He handed her the envelope. "I'm afraid there's nothing left, Mrs. Quinn." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Your husband left everything to you, but he took out a considerably large loan to finance his move to New York, and the money from the bank came back to us."

"There's nothing left?" She really wasn't surprised. What was more shocking was the nonchalant way this man was treating the situation. Did anybody even care that her husband was dead?

"I'm afraid not. His family is auctioning off the summer cottage, and the money left over will come back to us to pay what is missing from the money."

"You came all the way here to tell me that my husband still owes money…even though he's dead?" Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Lodge. Good day." Without a word, she saw them both to the door and locked them out of her home…Josef's home.

It wasn't as if she wanted the money. She didn't need it. She just hated hearing the bank treat Stephen as if he was a burden. He hadn't asked for what had happened. He hadn't asked for any of it. Now, she was alone with a husband she couldn't even make love to, and the man she loved was only a memory in her heart and a part of the life that was growing within her. She missed him terribly. She missed everything about him, and she wanted only to be in his arms again.

She wanted to wake up from the nightmare of knowing that the man she loved more than life itself had met such an untimely fate. Now she had Josef, a kind, sweet man whom she loved for caring so much for her. But, he wasn't Stephen. He couldn't replace that first love. He couldn't replace that first night with Stephen when Elizabeth had felt nothing but love for the first time in her life.

He would be a father to this child, but she knew that every time she peered into the eyes of the child, she would see the true father. She would see Stephen smiling at her and laughing with her. He was going to be with her forever, but she was promised to Josef now. She wanted to be a good wife to him. She wanted to love him as he loved her, and she wanted to be happy.

She placed her hand on her stomach, and she closed her eyes.

"I promise," she breathed, "I promise I will make this work. I'm doing this for you."

February 1871 – Boston

Elizabeth pulled out a smaller box and slowly lifted the lid. Birth certificates. Each one stated the name and the date of each child she'd brought into the world. Each child was a part of her and a part of the men she loved. And she had outlived both men.

She lowered her eyes to the oldest certificates, and she let out a soft sigh. How could she ever explain the pain she'd been through? How could she ever make her children understand?

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

Sully was relieved to see that there wasn't a crowd at the clinic. He spied Daniel and Carrie walking arm in arm at the other end of town, but he knew they wouldn't be back for a while, and frankly, he was glad that he wouldn't have anybody else to worry about for the rest of the day. Now he could focus on his family. Now he could tell his son the one thing he was more terrified of telling him than anything else in the world.

"Pa. Pa? Pa?" Johnny was getting frustrated with his father's silence. He knew he wasn't ignoring him. He was merely pondering his words. He knew his father well enough to know that he would never ignore him. "Please, Pa." Once the door to the clinic latched firmly in place, Sully moved over to sit in Michaela's desk chair. Johnny slowly sat down across from him on the other side of the desk. Sully suddenly felt as if he was the doctor and he was about to talk to Johnny as if he were his patient.

His palms began to sweat, and he wiped them on the sides of his buckskins, as his son's eyes…his eyes…stared at him with curiosity and worry.

"What's wrong with Dr. Mike? Why was she cryin' like that on the floor? Why did she need Widow Cooper? Why'd we have to go wire for another doctor? Is she sick?" Johnny's questions sent Sully's mind into a tailspin. He cleared his throat, but that didn't help. All of the words that were crawling through his being seemed to stop in his throat and choke him. "Pa! Are ya gonna tell me or not? Ya promised!"

"I know. I did. You're right." Sully stood and moved across the room. Johnny twisted around in his chair to watch his father pace around the room.

"I'm ten, Pa. You can tell me. I can handle it." Sully shivered, as he looked out into the cold, desolate street. It was getting later.

"I should check on her." He started for the door, but Johnny got up and bolted across the room to get in his father's way. "Johnny…"

"Pa! You ain't a doctor. But, you gotta tell me. Please tell me what's wrong." Sully finally nodded and motioned for his son to come into the side room with him. They settled down at the table that Michaela often used to eat dinner at. Sully sat on one side, and Johnny sat on another, and they watched each other, as the sounds of the street were muffled by the tension in the room. "What's wrong with Dr. Mike? Is she sick?"

"Well…no. Not exactly," Sully began.

"Why was she cryin' like that?"

"Well, sometimes…I…well, ya see…" Johnny sighed heavily, and Sully fought off his fears. He knew he had to be straight with his son. He couldn't lie to him. "The thing is that…well, she's…she might be…well…she could be losin'…"

"Pa?" Johnny's fingers tapped lightly against the table. "She ain't leavin' like Ma did, is she?"

"No! No, it ain't nothin' like that," Sully explained. He cleared this throat again and coughed, shuffling his feet underneath the table. "See, sometimes people make…well, they make decisions based on how they feel, and things happen."

"What things?"

"Well, ya know how people should know they got consequences for the things they do?"

"Yep. Like when Mr. Granger got caught stealin' from Grandpa, they chased him all the way to Manitou," Johnny said with wide eyes.

"Ah, right. Well, there are different consequences for the things folks do. There are things that people say are right and wrong, and some people feel different about them."

"Like hurtin' people?"

"Well, see, Johnny…the thing is that some things people decide to do don't necessarily hurt other folks. They just decide…well…."

"I don't understand, Pa." Sully closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath. He thought good and hard about what could happen if he told his son. But then again, Johnny had the right to know that he was going to be a brother. He had a right to know why Michaela was hurting. He was young, but he was old enough to know.

"Johnny, the thing is…Dr. Mike's pregnant." Johnny's eyes flashed with recognition and surprise, and Sully felt the color begin to drain from his own face. "Me and Dr. Mike…we're havin' a baby."

"How ya feelin', Doc?" Charlotte asked, cleaning her hands in the washbasin.

"I want Sully," Michaela whispered. Charlotte smiled a little.

"I know. I know. I'll send him up in just a few minutes," she promised. She moved across the room and sat just on the edge of Michaela's bed. She reached out and brushed away a tear from the doctor's cheek. "Ain't nothin' that hurts more than losin' a child."

"You?" Charlotte nodded.

"I lost a baby before Matthew and then before Brian." She shook her head. "It ain't easy, but folks get through it."

"I don't want this, Charlotte. I don't."

"I know, Doc. Nobody does." She sighed softly. "You in anymore pain?"

"No. It's gone. The pain's gone. I just…" The tears welled up again. "I want this child, Charlotte. I'd do anything for it. I can't…I can't lose Sully's child." Her tears began to fall freely again, and Charlotte squeezed her hand.

"You just keep fightin'. If this baby was meant to be, you'll know it."

"I do know. Sully and I want this baby. We…we created this child together, Charlotte." She sighed heavily. "Am I being punished, Charlotte? Am I being punished for not being married to him?" Charlotte bit her trembling lower lip, hating to see her good friend and doctor so scared and uncertain.

"Oh, Dr. Mike," she whispered softly. "You ain't bein' punished. Ya ain't done nothin' wrong. Don't you go doubtin' yourself. This baby…this baby was created out of the love two people have for one another. Ain't nothin' more beautiful than that." Michaela closed her eyes and placed her hand on her stomach, sending a silent prayer to her unborn child, willing and praying for it to hold on.