Chapter 66

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

Michaela woke after almost no sleep at all. She had rested, but her mind had been spinning around the possible directions this day could go in. One of her happiest days of the year had quickly turned into one of the most terrible. She'd just lost one of her best friends, and the town now knew the secret that she and Sully shared. They weren't supposed to find out this way. They weren't supposed to know until she was ready.

She finally pulled herself out of bed at dawn, knowing she was going to have to face a large amount of people, and she wanted to prepare herself. Her head had refused to let these people get to her, but she already knew deep down that they already were. She could already hear the mocking comments. She could already see the stares and hear the whispers.

Rebecca and Sully had both stayed at the clinic the night before. They were both offering their support to a grieving Michaela, and Rebecca knew that Sully needed her support as well. He and Michaela were in this together, and it was only a matter of time before everything ripped apart at the seams. If last night's crowd was any indication of how nasty these people were going to be, her sister and future brother-in-law were in for a long, hard fight.

When Michaela was dressed, she slipped out of her room and down the back stairs, eager to eat a little something. Despite the fact that she didn't have an appetite, her stomach was growling, and she knew she needed to keep herself and her unborn child nourished.

When she reached the kitchen, she was surprised to see Rebecca already up and standing at the stove.

"Rebecca?" Michaela asked, her throat feeling scratchy and her voice sounding hoarse.

"Oh dear!" Rebecca exclaimed, spinning around and placing her hand to her chest in surprise. "Michaela, you startled me!"

"I'm sorry," Michaela said tiredly. "I was just…I couldn't sleep." Rebecca frowned and moved to the teakettle.

"Have a seat," Rebecca said quietly. "I've brewed some tea. I found these herbs in your cabinet, and…"

"Yes, that'll be fine," Michaela said gratefully. Rebecca slowly poured a hot cup and brought it to Michaela. Michaela accepted it and took a small sip before placing it down.

"How are you feeling?" Michaela shook her head.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," she breathed. "I can't believe she's gone." She wasn't certain if she'd truly stopped crying last night or if she'd simply run out of tears.

"I know you two were close," Rebecca said quietly.

"She accepted me when I first arrived," Michaela said, shaking her head. "We didn't know one another very long, but we understood each other. She didn't say a single bad word against me when she found out, and…and she promised to be there. Now…now she's gone." Rebecca slowly settled down across from Michaela and took her hand in her own.

"But I'm not. I'm here, Michaela, and I'm going to stay. You have me. You have Sully. We're family, Michaela, and that's what counts." Michaela nodded.

"Charlotte was family…she was…" She took a shaky breath, and Rebecca reached out to gently brush a tear away.

"It'll be alright, Michaela. You'll see."

"I'm not so sure, Rebecca. There are so many things that these people don't understand. They could never. They don't understand how Sully and I feel about…about anything." Michaela was trembling again, and Rebecca took a deep breath.

"Shh," she urged. "Just relax, Michaela. It's going to be alright, dear." She gently patted her hand and stood up to go to the stove where breakfast was cooking.

At that moment, Sully came downstairs, exhaustion set plainly in his face. It was obvious that he hadn't slept either. Silently, he took a seat beside Michaela, and he took her hand in his. Without a word, he kissed her cheek, and she sighed softly, resting her tired head upon his shoulder.

"When did this happen, Sully?" she asked. "When did I turn into this weak, pathetic…"

"Hey, hey," he insisted, pulling his arm around her. "Ya ain't weak. Ya ain't pathetic. Ya ain't nothin' of the sort. You're pregnant…with our baby. Ya been through so much. Ya just lost somebody ya cared a great deal about. Ya got every excuse in the world to break, but ya ain't broke. You are the strongest woman I know, Michaela, and you carryin' our child despite everything that's happened…that makes ya even stronger." He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss. She looked down and folded her hands into her lap.

"I don't feel so strong," she breathed.

"You are. Ya might not see it right now—ya might not feel it—but you're the strongest woman I've ever met." The truth was that carrying a life inside of her made her feel strong, but at the same time, fearing for its loss made her feel weak and powerless, just as she had last night when Charlotte had passed. She had no control, and feeling out of control only made matters worse.

Rebecca turned from the stove and smiled at Sully.

"Good morning," she said quietly. "Coffee?"

"Yes please," he said with a grateful nod. Rebecca poured him a cup. "I wanna thank you for all your help."

"I can assure you…it's no trouble. Michaela is my sister, and I would do anything for her." Michaela tearfully smiled at her sister, and she slowly stood. "Michaela? Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. I just want a breath of fresh air." She started for the door, and Sully fought the urge to follow after her. But, he knew she would want a few minutes alone. So, he slowly walked toward the window to watch her. She settled down on the porch bench—the bench he'd found her on before Charlotte's passing—and she folded her hands in her lap. She took a few heaving breaths, trying not to let the tears fall again, but when she looked toward the churchyard, she saw Charlotte's grave being prepared, and the tears flooded forth once more. It took everything Sully had inside of him to stop him from going to her.

Her eyes scanned over the town, and she wondered what the day would bring. She knew that the child inside of her was her responsibility, and she could face these people. But she had kept this secret. She and Sully had made promises to one another, and those promises weren't to be shared with or understood by the town. How could anyone accept her now? How could she even attempt to make them realize that this was her life, and her choices—their choices—were none of their concern?

"Dr. Mike! Dr. Mike!" Michaela jumped up in surprise, as the first sign of life exited the depot and rushed across town. It was Horace. Horace? Charlotte had mentioned Horace having told the town. But how? How had he known? She supposed it didn't really matter how he'd known, because that was the past, and now everybody knew. Everybody.

"Horace?" When he made it to the porch of the clinic, she could see the dark circles under his eyes, and she knew he was suffering from the after-affects of alcohol. Horace wasn't a drinker. She figured this wasn't by choice.

"Dr. Mike," he said softly. "I don't…I don't remember much 'bout last night, but I remember enough to know…well…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say it." Michaela looked away, folding her arms across her chest. Was she protecting herself? Her child? Her pride?

"Horace," she began, but he continued on.

"I know ya done a lot of good, and the truth is…I wasn't sure if I should keep it a secret. But, I didn't mean to tell, and before I could…well, well, I feel mighty poorly 'bout what I did."

"Horace, it's alright," Michaela said quietly, as if it was the right thing to say. After all, he seemed genuinely sorry about what had happened, and she had always known him to be a genuine person. "I won't hold it against you."

"Ya mean it?" he asked. She gently touched his arm.

"I mean it. Sully and I were planning on telling people, but we…we weren't certain when would be the right time." Horace nodded slowly. "Horace?"

"Hmm?"

"What was so urgent?" she asked, wanting to change the subject now. She knew this wouldn't be the last time she was approached that day, but she was grateful for such an easy beginning.

"Oh…telegram come for ya. It's from Boston." His face grew grim again.

"Boston?" she asked immediately, her eyes clouding over with worry, fear, and a number of other feelings that didn't seem to be very uplifting. She took the paper into her hands, and she read it over once, letting the words sink in, as her heart beat rapidly there.

"I'm awful sorry, Dr. Mike." He cleared his throat. "I best be getting back. I…I'll see ya around?" Michaela only nodded, turning to face the clinic. Horace hung his head, still feeling the affects of the alcohol and the guilt, and he returned to his post at the depot. At that moment, Sully exited the clinic, and he joined Michaela.

"What was that about?"

"Horace…he brought…" Her eyes glanced up into his, and she sighed heavily. "Mother's dying." Sully took the piece of paper into his hands and skimmed over the letters.

"Don't say that here. Just says she's sick, and…"

"I can feel it, Sully. She needs me," Michaela whispered. "I'll never forgive myself if I can't make things right with her…" Sully took her hands in his, and she looked into her eyes. "I need to go, Sully. I have to be with her." She turned to go back into the clinic, and Sully stopped her.

"You sure it's safe for you to go?" Michaela paused for a moment, remembering that her doctor was coming back just days after her previous examination.

"Dr. Bernard is coming into town this afternoon on his way back from Dallas. I'll speak with him, but…Sully, I have to do this. I have to go to her." Before Sully could respond, Michaela was rushing into the clinic to tell Rebecca, and his worry for her and their unborn child increased tenfold.

"She's ill?" Rebecca asked somberly, looking over the telegram. She shook her head. "Oh, Michaela." They were both thinking it. It couldn't have happened at a worse time. Both felt guilty for thinking such a thing, but at the same time, they both knew that one thing that Michaela did not need right now was a cross-country trip to face a woman she'd parted on bad terms with.

"I don't know what to do," Michaela realized. "I need to go to her, but I know that if I do, I'm risking…" She placed her hand on her stomach. "I'm risking everything." Rebecca quickly cleared her throat and folded up the telegram.

"I'll go. You stay here, and…"

"No!" Michaela exclaimed. "I can't let her…I can't let her go without…" She breathed a heavy sigh. "Rebecca, if I…"

"I'll explain everything to her. I'm sure she'd understand. I'm sure she wouldn't want you to make this trip, Michaela." They both knew Elizabeth wouldn't understand, Michaela knew Rebecca was right in the respect that she didn't need to put this pressure on herself, but at the same time, she knew she could never forgive herself if she didn't go to her mother. If she got the all-clear from Dr. Bernard, she would have no choice but to go, because she owed it to herself and to her mother to make things right.

"Dr. Mike?" Two pair of school-shoed feet came trampling down the stairs, and Johnny appeared with Mary following right behind him.

"Good morning," she said, putting on her nicest smile. But, Johnny saw right through it. He could see the tear stains on her cheeks. He could see the worry and fear in her eyes.

"Breakfast is almost ready," Rebecca said quickly, leading Mary to the table. Johnny reached for Michaela's hand, and he gently tugged on it.

"What's wrong, Dr. Mike?" he wondered. She took a shaky breath, and she shook her head.

"Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart. Go eat your breakfast before it gets cold." He nodded.

"Yes ma'am." Reluctantly, he went to eat breakfast, but he watched as Michaela slipped back outside, and he knew that whatever was going on was hurting his future stepmother, and he didn't like the thought of that.

"Please, Johnny. Eat your breakfast so you can do your chores before school," Rebecca encouraged. Johnny finally turned his attention back to his food, and he waited for his father and Dr. Mike to return.

"Sully?" she asked, slowly stepping up behind him. He turned toward her and reached out for her hands. She gave them to him willingly. "If Dr. Bernard says it's alright…would you accompany me to Boston? I'm certain that Rebecca will be going along as well, but…but, I'd enjoy the company." Sully nodded slowly.

"Robert E.'s got my plans for the homestead. He knows what I want, and I'm sure he'd take care of some of the buildin' while we're gone." Michaela nodded. "'Sides, I wanna make sure ya get your proper rest. That's most important."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Hey, no thanks needed. We're in this together, remember?" Michaela nodded slowly, and she embraced him, letting the comfort of his arms remind her of how strong they were together and apart. But before they had the opportunity to pull apart, Sully spied something moving from the corner of his eye.

"Well, well, if it ain't the lovebirds." Michaela and Sully glanced at their crowd. Hank, Jake, and a few regulars of the saloon were gathered around.

"Ain't it a little early for you to be open for business, Hank?" Sully asked, preparing himself for whatever was about to happen.

"I could be sayin' the same thing to the doc," Hank said suggestively, raising an eyebrow and taking a puff of his cigar. Michaela tensed up, and she stared the bartender in the eye.

"I'd thank you to stop speaking about me as if…"

"As if what?" Hank challenged. "As if you were no better than a saloon girl?" He chuckled. "Seems that even the goody two-shoes got to sew their wild oats, now don't they, Michaela?"

"Back off, Hank," Sully warned.

"Or what?" Jake stepped in. "What're ya gonna do, Sully? Ain't you done enough? Ya disgraced your wife's name. Ya left your boy…"

"You best stop talkin' 'bout what ya don't understand," Sully warned. Michaela took hold of Sully's hand.

"So it must be true then," Hank assumed.

"Come inside, Sully," she said softly. "Let's have breakfast with our family and…"

"Family?" Hank asked with a laugh. "Boy, you sure got some ideas, lady, but this one…" He and Jake shared a look. "Ya really think you're gonna be respectable after this? Folks had enough trouble comin' to grips with havin' a lady doctor treatin' 'em. Now they got some woman tellin' 'em how to live their lives when she don't know how to live her own."

"That's enough, Hank," Sully demanded. "You think you know what livin' is? You ever had a family? Huh? You ever loved somebody so much that you'd do anything for 'em? You ever thought about anything or anybody but yourself?"

"Sully, please," Michaela urged. But Sully continued, staring into the eyes of a man who had once saved his life. It was amazing how one circumstance could cause a person to completely turn their views and backs on other people.

"Ya go 'round passin' judgment on everybody else, but ya don't stop and take a look in the mirror. Ya convince girls to sign their lives away so you can make money for yourself. Ya help drunks like the mayor here drink themselves 'til they can't see right from wrong. Ya stand here and say we're wrong for our choices when ya don't even take a look at your own choices."

"Ya think you're better than me?" Hank asked.

"I'm sayin' that ya best not go 'round judgin' folks for their choices, when your own choices ain't what most folks would call proper either."

"Sully!" Michaela demanded, not wanting him to say anything he might regret later. She'd never quite seen him like this before.

"You think you can stand here and tell us what's noble and good, huh, Sully?" Jake asked. "What would Abagail think? Huh? What would she think if she knew that you'd gone off and left her son alone for ten years? What would she think she knew that the woman ya replaced her with was some fancy doctor from Boston who goes around tellin' folks what they're doin' is wrong, when all she is…is a hypocrite. I don't see no lady. All I see's a whore," he snarled. With that, Sully had had enough, and he lunged at Jake, catching his fist in the pit of the man's stomach.

"Sully!" Michaela exclaimed, anger boiling in her veins, but she knew that this was only the beginning. She only wanted Sully to still be standing at the end of the day. She needed him.

Hank surprisingly stood aside, as Jake and Sully struggled. Jake made two good hits to Sully's jaw, and Sully came back with another punch to the gut. He threw Jake off of him, but Jake clawed his way back, wrapping his hands around Sully's throat.

"No! Stop it!" Michaela screamed, turning in search of something…anything to break them apart. But in that moment, Daniel came rushing around the corner.

"Sully!" he called. "What…" And when Sully slammed Jake's back into the ground and straddled him, feeling years of anger driving his strength, Daniel grabbed Sully and yanked him off of Jake. Jake lunged for Sully again, but Daniel held him off.

"Ya best watch your step, Sully," Hank said hotly. "Folks don't take too kindly to sinners." He sneered at Michaela. "I should know, shouldn't I, Michaela? Welcome to the dark side." He chuckled and flicked his cigar into the dirt.

"Everybody just get outta here 'fore I arrest somebody," Daniel warned. Sully turned toward Michaela, and her eyes were full of tears.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I should be askin' you the same thing."

"I'm not the one who's hurt."

"What he said…"

"What he said doesn't matter. I don't care, Sully. All I care about is that…that you're alright." She touched the side of his face, and he winced. "Come inside, and we'll take care of that." She and Sully turned toward the clinic, and Johnny, Mary, and Rebecca stood in the doorway.

"What happened, Pa?" Johnny asked incredulously.

"It's alright. Everything's alright," Michaela said quickly. "Finish up your breakfast, and you can walk with Rebecca to the school this morning." Rebecca nodded and ushered the children inside. Daniel followed Michaela and Sully into the clinic and closed the door behind him.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Sully said through gritted teeth.

"What got into ya out there?" Michaela went to work at treating the few scrapes Sully had acquired. "Ya sure beat him a good one." Michaela shot him a stern glance, but her eyes were filled with exhaustion. So, Daniel straightened up and cleared his throat. "Look, I know 'bout…well, 'bout the situation."

"The situation? You can say it, Daniel. It ain't a secret no more. Me and Michaela are havin' a baby." Daniel nodded his head.

"Well, yeah," he said quietly. "Look, I just want ya to know that I don't want ya to think I ain't on your side. I am. I just…as deputy, I gotta help keep the peace."

"It ain't like I was askin' for this, Daniel. I'm gonna do whatever it takes to protect my family. If that means…"

"Don't say it, Sully," Daniel warned.

"This is ridiculous," Michaela muttered under her breath. "A child shouldn't be brought into the world with everyone fighting and…and…" She shook her head. "This child was created because of a choice, and that choice…that choice is nobody's business but ours! Just because we don't have a piece of paper saying we're married doesn't mean we haven't vowed ourselves to one another. I used to believe that it mattered, but now that I know…"

"Michaela, it's alright," Sully said quietly, gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

"You don't gotta explain it to me," Daniel said gently. "Just take care of yourself. I know Kid Cole's watchin' out for ya too. That wife of his is real worried. Just relax and stop givin' people somethin' to fuss about."

"You're saying we should pretend nothing is happening?" Michaela asked. Daniel swallowed hard. Michaela turned toward Sully. He knew what she was thinking. This was something to be celebrated under normal circumstances. This wasn't supposed to be something frowned upon or unacceptable. It was life. It was nature. Children were born out of wedlock everyday, but because of who she was and who he was, all eyes were on them, because they were different. "I won't do that, Daniel. I'm sorry." Sully took Michaela's hand.

"We ain't gonna hide somethin' that's as plain as day. Not anymore," Sully said quietly. "This baby deserves a good life, just as much as anybody else. And, we ain't gonna let people tell us different. The things we decided might be wrong to some people, but they don't decide how we get to live. They should be worryin' 'bout their own selves."

"Well, that's a nice thought to have, Sully, but ya gotta think about what everybody else is gonna say. I just…just…" He sighed heavily. "You're my friend, Sully. I just want ya to be happy. So you do whatever it is that makes you happy, and I'll support you." He cleared his throat. "I best be getting back…got a lot of work to do today." Daniel turned and left the clinic abruptly, and Michaela's attention turned back to Sully.

"I wish you wouldn't have done that, Sully," she said gently.

"I couldn't help it. The things they were sayin'…"

"I already told you…what they said doesn't matter. But we have a real problem here. We can't go around pretending that everything's alright, because we know it's not. They don't believe it, and we know we have a long journey ahead of us. They have their opinions, and we have ours, and somehow, we're going to make it work." She leaned in and gently kissed his cheek, and Sully stared at her. Just a few minutes ago, she had been crying over the loss of her friend. Now she was strong and confident again, and he loved and respected that about her. She adapted quickly, but he knew they had so many obstacles left in their way. They were going to cross them together. That was the plan, and they were determined to stick to it.

February 1871 – Boston

Life as I've always known it seems to change with each day that passes and each season that changes. I haven't always been afraid of change or disinclined to accept the choices of others. There was a time when life was nothing but parties and dances, and the only thing on my mind was love. I'm certain it is difficult for anyone to think of me as young, passionate, or adventurous.

Before I was ten years old, my mother was sending me off on play dates with our wealthy acquaintances' children. I was too young to notice the coincidence that all of these children consisted of mostly males of my age or a bit older. I was nurtured to believe that all that mattered was a life of luxury, a wealthy husband, and a line of heirs to the family fortune. In my early days, I couldn't comprehend any reason why love should matter, because my parents never shared a tender moment between them in front of we children. I suppose I always assumed they loved one another, but mother always insisted that money was what mattered most, and love was an afterthought. Above all else, money was all that would be left at the end of a lifetime.

By the time I was seventeen, Mother was concerned that I might never marry. With Father ill, I was the last hope for our family. My brothers and sisters were all married, and I was the problem child. My single status wasn't for my lack of trying, so I suppose a part of me longed for the fairytale white knight. I wanted romance. I wanted my heart to pound from just a simple kiss, touch, or a look. I simply wasn't prepared for a life of being a wife to a man I didn't love, despite my mother's long, trying efforts. I knew how to go through the motions, but what I longed for was so much more.

Josef Quinn came into the picture before I turned twenty. My parents and his planned several social events and dinner parties so we could meet, but I could hardly bring myself to go, because I was terrified of being trapped inside of a loveless marriage with children that reminded me of their father—a man that I didn't truly love—when the man I was meant for might truly be out there somewhere.

The first time I saw Josef, we never even spoke, so I couldn't count it as meeting him. He was kind and charming, and he was everything a husband could be, but I knew nothing about him. All I knew was his future plans. I knew nothing of his past. I knew nothing of what he might be like twenty years in the future.

However, I had a secret that wasn't so secret to Mother. A young man had my undivided attention at that point in my life. His name was Stephen O'Connor. He was a wealthy young man with a kind heart and an honest smile. Above all of that, he loved me. Everything about him attracted me to him, and when I learned that he was about to start a business in New York City, I immediately realized that I was about to lose him, and I also fantasized about what it might be like to live in such a thriving metropolis.

Mother knew a little about him, and she had warned me to stay away. The only reason he wasn't good enough for me in her eyes was because his parents were not so private about their broken relationship, and his father's brother was in prison.

Stephen and I had met under quite normal circumstances. He had been speaking with my father on the terrace about business when I first saw him, and I remember thinking that he was handsome and had the most charming features I had ever seen. Stephen O'Connor was everything that I had wanted my white knight to be.

The night I was supposed to finally meet Josef at a formal dance, I insisted that he wasn't the man I wanted. Stephen was my heart. My mother constantly reminded me that I would only get my heart broken. But at that point in my life, the only thing that mattered was being happy, because my parents obviously were not. When Stephen came to me the night I was supposed to finally see Josef, I couldn't stop myself with him. I knew what I had to do. He proposed marriage, and I accepted.

Marjorie quickly closed the book, feeling as if she was interfering in her mother's private life. But this life…it had been one she'd never heard of before. She obviously couldn't have married this Stephen, because she ultimately ended up with Josef. Perhaps it was only a story.

Before she could read any further, a noise from her mother's bed caused her to hide the book and go to her.

"Mother?"

"Michaela?" Elizabeth asked quietly, slowing opening her eyes.

"No, Mother. It's Marjorie," she said quietly, feeling disappointed, but knowing that she'd never been under her mother's watchful eye as much as her youngest daughter had.

"Marjorie," Elizabeth said quietly. "I…I'm so tired."

"I know, Mother," Marjorie said quietly, almost afraid to touch the older woman's hand. "Don't worry. Michaela and Rebecca will be here. I promise. Just rest now, and they'll be here soon enough."

"Robert," Elizabeth mumbled.

"Who's Robert?" Marjorie asked quietly, as her mother slipped off into a deep sleep again. She sighed heavily, running her fingers through her red curls. This was the second time she had heard her mother say that name in her state of delirium. Who was Robert? Why hadn't she said Stephen? He had obviously meant so much to her. But…she didn't even recall a Robert that her mother might have known. And truthfully, she was terrified of finding out things about her mother's past that she wasn't ready for.

Martha slipped into the room with a fresh basin of water.

"How is she?" Martha asked quietly.

"She woke for a moment," Marjorie said tiredly.

"Why don't you go lie down?" Marjorie asked gently. "You deserve a little rest. You've been up with her all night long."

"She needs me."

"Maureen and Claudette may be over later. You deserve a break, Miss Marjorie." Marjorie smiled at the old housemaid. She had treated the Quinn children as if they were her own, and she felt comforted by the fact that this old woman was looking out for her.

"Alright. Maybe for a little while," she finally decided. When she started to leave, Martha began to wash down Elizabeth's arms and her face, making sure she was comfortable and clean. Marjorie turned toward her again. "Martha?"

"Hmm?" the older woman asked, being careful not to startle Elizabeth from her sleep.

"Who's Robert?" Martha froze.

"R-Robert, Ma'am?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. Mother said the name at least twice in her sleep. Do you have any idea who she might be speaking of?" Martha paused for a moment before shaking her head.

"I'm sorry. No," she said gently. "Perhaps he's from her dreams." Marjorie stood still for a moment, watching the old lady care for her mother as if she were her own child. Finally, she gave up and took the book out of the room and down to her old sleeping quarters. When she closed herself inside, she remembered what it was like to live there day after day. While she was there, it had seemed horrible, because she'd lived under her parents' rules. But after marrying Everett, she had finally realized the true meaning of horrible living. This home represented more freedom than she had seen in so long.

She sighed heavily and collapsed onto her bed, falling over it like a careless young girl. She opened up the book and began to read again, hoping to God that her mother's past wasn't something she was going to regret reading about. But the name Robert flashed through her mind over and over again, and she shrugged it off, hoping that Martha was right. Perhaps Robert was merely a figure from her mother's dreams.

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

Around noon, Michaela pulled on her coat and slipped out the back of the clinic. She was hungry again, and she figured that a meal at Grace's would do her some good. She had contemplated staying inside all day in order for things to cool down a bit, but she also knew that she had to face her fears. She wasn't ashamed, and she refused to act like it. At the same time, she knew better than to parade herself about town, because that would only be calling for attention she didn't want. All she wanted was to live her life as normal, treat herself to some fresh air and a nice meal, and return back to the clinic to rest until Dr. Bernard arrived.

When she entered Grace's Café, she was greeted by quizzical stares, and she heard the expected secretive murmuring. But, she chose an empty table and sat down, waiting for Grace to come to her. She was apprehensive about facing her friends. Only a few people had known, and she only hoped that by not telling some of them, she hadn't ruined some of the strongest friendships she had created since arriving in Colorado Springs.

"Afternoon, Dr. Mike," Grace said casually, as she slipped over to Michaela's table with a tablet of paper in her hands. "What can I get for ya?"

"What's the special today?" Michaela asked shakily. Grace smiled a little, sensing Michaela's attempt to be calm and collected.

"Turkey and gravy."

"Thank you. I'll have that, please." Grace nodded, and Michaela's eyes glistened with tears. Grace slowly sat down and patted Michaela's hand.

"How you holdin' up?" She swallowed quickly. "Heard 'bout Charlotte, and your…your ma…and all…it's awful."

"Yes," Michaela agreed. "I feel powerless to help Mother, and Charlotte, well…I wanted to help her, Grace. Charlotte's condition had deteriorated far beyond correction before I had even met her."

"Then ya better not be blamin' yourself, Dr. Mike," Grace said gently. "You got other things to worry 'bout now." She smiled a little, but Michaela's own worries surfaced.

"Grace, I…I was going to…"

"Don't worry, Dr. Mike. I had my suspicions. I just didn't figure it'd be right to ask." Grace gently squeezed her hand. "I know you're scared."

"Terrified," Michaela said gently. "Some people have been surprisingly accepting…others…"

"I heard what happened outside the clinic this mornin'." Michaela nodded. "You alright?"

"It wasn't me I was worried about. I'd never seen Sully so angry before."

"He was standin' up for ya. You're lucky to have him, Dr. Mike. Hold onto that one. Don't ever let him go." For once that morning, Michaela managed a smile, and she shook her head.

"I don't plan on it."

The sound of a train coming into town startled Michaela, and she looked up at Grace.

"Grace? Would you mind bringing my order to the clinic? I have an appointment, and…"

"Consider it done," Grace said with a smile. "If it gets too busy, I'll have Robert E. bring it over to ya."

"Thank you," Michaela breathed, "for everything." Grace nodded and gave her friend a quick hug before returning to work. Michaela passed by the tables of gawkers and whisperers and hurried to the depot to meet Dr. Bernard.