February 1871 – On a Train to Boston
"I never been on a train before!" Johnny exclaimed eagerly, as he stared out at the passing mountains. "How long 'til we're in Boston, Dr. Mike?" Michaela smiled at the eager boy, and she shook her head in exasperation.
"It should be a little less than a week," Michaela pointed out. "Five days if the weather holds. Right Sully?" She glanced over at the man who was seated next to her. He nodded.
"Yep. That's right," he chuckled, remembering the last time they were on a train together, sharing secret kisses and looking of longing. Michaela could tell what he was thinking of, and her cheeks filled with a deep crimson blush. Sully couldn't help but smile. He hadn't seen so much life in her eyes for a long time now, and just seeing her eyes twinkle and her face brighten, as they rolled down the tracks toward a city Michaela never thought she'd see again made Sully's heart swell in his chest.
Michaela, Sully, and Johnny were sharing a compartment, and Mary was sharing with her mother. But Johnny and Mary were in and out of both compartments, eagerly looking for a better view of the countryside they were passing.
"They're going to wear themselves out," Michaela laughed, leaning back in her seat.
"Well, maybe they'll sleep good tonight," Sully pointed out. Michaela raised an eyebrow.
"You have a good point, Mr. Sully," she grinned, as Mary and Johnny rushed about the hall. "Careful!" They shared a smile, before Sully gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and brought his lips down onto hers, kissing her softly, as if they had all of the time in the world.
His fingertips danced across her prickling flesh, as she shivered under his touch. She missed this closeness. These moments had come few and far between lately with everything that had happened, and when they arrived in Boston, Michaela was certain they would have little time alone together. They took advantage of every possible moment, and it was clear to both of them that their bond was just as strong as ever.
Sully looked into her eyes and smiled, seeing their future there—a future that he couldn't wait to realize—and he thought of the surprise he'd been planning long before they'd thought about having to go back to Boston.
"I got a surprise for ya," he whispered, gently kissing the spot on her neck behind her ear—the spot that made her heart skip a beat each time he touched it—and he smiled, pulling back to look into her eyes.
"A surprise?" she asked.
"Mhmm," he replied, kissing her again. Michaela gently placed her fingertips upon his lips.
"What kind of a surprise?" she wondered.
"Well, you'll have to wait 'til we get back to Colorado Springs to get it," he pointed out. She raised an eyebrow.
"Then why tell me now?"
"'Cause I figure it'll give ya somethin' to look forward to." Michaela smiled genuinely and took his hand in hers, placing it against her stomach.
"I already have something to look forward to." Sully's fingers gently played against her ribcage, sending tickling sensations up her spine. She giggled, as his mouth found hers again, but he pulled back moments later. "Alright. Tell me." She could hardly keep a straight face, as his fingers lingered on her for another moment. Their eyes met, and she grinned, choking down a giggle that would surely disturb the entire train car. It felt nice to have a carefree, easy conversation that didn't involve speaking about Jake or Hank or one of the other townspeople that wanted to give them a piece of their mind.
"Ya sure?"
"Yes!" she laughed. "What is it?" Sully sat up straight, and Michaela's hand squeezed his.
"Well, ya hadn't been to the new homestead for a while," he pointed out. "I lied to ya." Michaela raised an eyebrow.
"You what? Sully…"
"I lied 'bout the progress on the homestead. There's a little more done than I let on." She furrowed her brows in confusion.
"Why did you keep that a secret?"
"'Cause I wanted to surprise ya when it was all finished, but it ain't yet, and we're leavin'." He looked out the window for a moment. "Since we don't know when we're gonna be back, Robert E.'s promised to finish the buildin'."
"What!" She gasped in surprise. "Sully, I thought…I thought you wanted to do the building by yourself."
"Well, I did, but right now, takin' care of my family is more important. I trust Robert E.'s, work, and he promised to have it done by the end of the month." Michaela shook her head.
"Sully, I can't believe it! This is wonderful!" Sully smiled happily at the look in his wife's eyes. "It'll be finished in time for the wedding in May. We could already furnish it before we move in. It'll be easier that way." Sully nodded. "Thank you. I know how much it means to you to build it yourself, but it'll be easier on all of us."
"I know. I don't want ya frettin' over anything," he said quietly. "In Boston, I know your ma is gonna need your attention, so the less worries ya got on your mind, the better things'll be." She nodded solemnly before smiling again.
"Have I told you how much I love you?" she asked. Sully grinned and pulled her into another kiss. When she pulled back, she gently stroked his arm with her hand. "You're certain you're happy this way? I don't want to go home and you be disappointed with…"
"Hey, hey," he pointed out. "It ain't home without my family, and the family's the part I care most about." He kissed her hand. And they sat in silence together, staring out at the vast land that passed by them, as they journeyed farther away from home and closer to a place that seemed so foreign already.
February 1871 – Boston
After Josef and I married, my family seemed to accept me once again. I hid the fact that I was pregnant with Stephen's child from them, thinking that because I wasn't far along at all, I could pass the child off as Josef's, and they would never know the difference. Josef promised to care for me and for the child for the rest of our lives, and I felt a sense of security, though every night for the first several weeks, I slept in a guest room, dreaming of Stephen and longing for the nights he held me in his arms. In the daytime, Josef slowly began to break through the chains I'd secured around my heart when Stephen's health had started to deteriorate.
I refused to let myself be with any other man until my heart was ready to accept that it would never be Stephen again. I would never hear him say he loved me again as we fell asleep in each other's arms. I'd never look into those eyes again and feel more passion, more love, and more happiness than I'd ever felt in my entire life.
My family seemed to buy the fact that the child I carried was Josef's, and we intended to explain the birth that would come at least a month earlier than expected as a premature birth, which seemed cruel to ourselves, our family, and our unborn child, but the most important thing was a healthy baby, which Josef assured me we would have, because he insisted on the best medical care possible. He had taken over the role of a father quite well, and I could see the eagerness in his eyes, as we waited for the first signs of my stomach to show a hint of expansion. He couldn't wait to see the child kicking and feel it, yet we had yet to be intimate with one another. Intimacy was difficult for both of us, because we were truly friends by then.
We eventually grew closer and consummated our marriage, and a few months later, we were blessed with two beautiful babies…Stephen's babies. Rebecca and Robert were beautiful, healthy, and everything I had ever wanted. I was amazed at how quickly my thoughts shifted from wanting a life with my white knight to wanting to protect my children with every power in my entire being.
The night the children came, Fiona left, and Martha took her place. It was an adjustment, but Martha quickly became a part of the family. Josef was surprised at how hands-on I was with the children. In all honesty, he had expected me to have Martha help more often, but I was so protective of those children that I changed every diaper and refused to hire a wet nurse.
The most painful thing about motherhood was that when I looked into Robert's eyes, I saw so much of his father in him. I knew that my life would never be the same, and everyday I would be reminded of the past—a past I could never speak of—and the next several years would be filled with new memories with my family and old memories from the family I had wished for when Stephen was still alive.
"Marjorie?" Marjorie was broken from her thoughts by the sound of her mother's voice. She gasped and tucked the book away before heading over to her mother's bed. Elizabeth's eyes were barely open, but the color had returned to her face.
"I'm here, Mother," she said softly, relieved that her mother had finally called for her. Tears stung her eyes, and she took her mother's hand. "What is it?"
"I need you to know something…"
"Yes?" she asked softly.
"I loved you all," she said tiredly. Marjorie swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I know, Mother."
"I don't think you do." She took a deep breath. "Help me. Help me sit up."
"You should rest, Mother," Marjorie warned, squeezing her hand, but Elizabeth would hear none of it.
"Help me sit up. This is important. I need you to know some things…"
"There's no need. You're going to get better."
"Maybe so, but nevertheless, you need to know." Marjorie sighed heavily, and she helped her mother sit up in bed. Elizabeth felt her muscles stretching for the first time in days. Elizabeth glanced at her nightstand. "You found my journal, I see." Marjorie froze. "I'm not angry. I wrote it for you girls to read, because I thought it was time I put my feelings and thoughts into words, since I obviously don't relay them well in person." Marjorie swallowed hard. Elizabeth wondered exactly what Marjorie might have to say, and she prepared herself for the worst.
"Why did you write it?" she asked. "Why?" Why did she write about Stephen? Why did she write about Robert? She could have easily held those two memories in her heart, and Elizabeth knew that such a simple question held those others inside.
"Because I know I haven't done right by any of my children," she responded, her eyes distant, as if her heart was in a different time…a different place. "I've disappointed all of you in one way or another." Marjorie sat up straight, not understanding her mother's sudden change. She never would have admitted such a fault before, and this worried Marjorie further, because she feared that her mother felt she was going to die. Was she giving up?
"Mother, we have disappointed you in our own ways. You never approved of Michaela's choices, and Rebecca took Mary off to Colorado Springs. I'm in the middle of a divorce, and…"
"Those are all choices, Marjorie. If you've read any of that book," she began, "you'll know I've made a few of my own." Marjorie looked down. "Letting go isn't easy, and I still can't say I'm going to accept every choice you or any of your sisters have made, but I can't die with my children thinking I was so wretched for no reason."
"You aren't, Mother…"
"Oh, come now, Marjorie," Elizabeth replied. "You and I both know the truth." Marjorie took a deep breath. "You made a choice to get out of your marriage, because it was the right thing for you. I see that now. I saw the bruises, Marjorie. I just wanted so badly for you to have a good life. And Rebecca…I wanted her to re-marry and find a proper father for Mary. I wanted Michaela to find a proper husband who could give her a good life, since she seemed determined to live in one of the most difficult ways possible." She sighed heavily. "But I didn't give any of you enough credit. I was too worried about my own choices and my own heart, and I didn't think about any of yours." Marjorie's lower lip trembled, but she sucked in a sharp breath and continued to listen. "You all deserve to have the best possible lives, but I know that isn't my decision." She paused and gathered her thoughts. When she looked up into Marjorie's eyes again, she saw the eyes of a sad child. "I want you to do something for me."
"What's that, Mother?"
"When Michaela arrives…tell her…tell her that I give her my blessing. She and Mr. Sully have my blessing." The words struck a chord in Marjorie, and she closed her eyes.
"Don't talk like that, Mother. You can tell her yourself when she arrives. It's just a few more days…"
"I'm not certain I have a few more days." Marjorie shook her head.
"Of course you do. You just need to rest now, and…" At that moment, the door opened, and Landon walked in with his medical bag.
"Dr. Webber?" Marjorie asked immediately, standing up to face him. He greeted her with a smile and nodded in Elizabeth's direction. "What brings you here?"
"I think I've found a way to save your mother's life." Marjorie's eyes widened from his unexpected declaration.
"You…how?"
"Yes, Dr. Webber, please tell us how you think you can save my life," Elizabeth said, a bit of skepticism dripping from her voice.
"Well, it's a new procedure on the heart…a very delicate one that may be able to prolong your life." Elizabeth narrowed her eyebrows.
"You're saying that by fixing my heart, you can fix the rest of my body?"
"Your heart's deterioration is affecting the rest of your body. The decreased amounts of oxygen and blood getting to your other systems is causing them to shut down, but if we can fix the problem, it could add months, maybe years to your life. But we must act quickly." Elizabeth closed her eyes. More time meant more time to patch things up with Michaela, but having such a surgery now also meant that she could die on the table and never get to give her her blessing.
"Mother," Marjorie said softly, "Dr. Webber is an excellent doctor."
"I know he is," Elizabeth said gently. "He's kept me alive so far, so I should be able to trust my life in his hands." She sighed heavily. "Do I really have a choice? If I don't have the surgery, I'll die, won't I, Dr. Webber?" Landon nodded sympathetically.
"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Quinn."
"And I may not wake up from this surgery."
"As I said, it's a delicate procedure, and there haven't been many cases of such operations on the heart. But, yes, there is a chance you may…not wake up." Elizabeth squeezed Marjorie's hand and looked into her eyes. She saw that her daughter wanted this, and she knew she had to give her this. She had to give her more time, because they hadn't had enough yet.
"Alright, Dr. Webber. I trust your judgment." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "Do whatever you have to do."
February 1871 – Colorado Springs
"As Mayor, I'd like to welcome you to Colorado Springs, Dr. Cassidy," Jake said, tipping his hat to the gentleman that stepped off of the train. Doc Cassidy nodded his head and shook the hand that extended toward him.
"Thank you, Mayor…"
"Slicker," Jake replied.
"Mayor Slicker," he said with a nod. "Well, if someone could kindly point the way to Dr. Quinn's clinic, I'd be happy to get right to work."
"Ya already have a patient waitin' for ya," Olive spoke up, as a small crowd began to walk over to the clinic with him. "Tommy James."
"What's wrong with him?"
"Well, Dr. Mike patched him up 'fore she left, but he's got a broken leg."
"Well, I'll see that he's taken care of."
"Dr. Mike did a fine job, but she said you'd take a look at him."
"I will, and…wait a minute…she?" he asked. "Dr. Quinn is a she?"
"Yes, sir," Olive replied.
"The telegram read Michael Quinn," he pointed out.
"I'm afraid ya read wrong," Carrie piped up. "She definitely ain't no man!"
"And behalf of all the folks of Colorado Springs," Jake continued, "I'd like to thank ya for your services. I'm sure you'll be able to clean up the mess Dr. Mike's made since she got here."
"What mess?" Ruth asked, speaking up from the back of the crowed. "I seen her patch up more folks in a day than you've had customers." Jake sent a glare in her way, but she paid no attention. "Dr. Mike's a good doctor, so ya better understand that she'll be takin' her job back when she comes back from Boston." Hank elbowed Jake in the ribs and snickered.
"I don't think we'll see her face 'round these parts again. If she knows what's good for her and that bastard baby, she'll stay in Boston."
"Now Hank," Timothy warned.
"What's the matter, Rev?" he asked. "Rebecca ain't here. Ya don't gotta pretend no more. We know ya think the same things 'bout the doc as we do. Don't worry. You're better off not getting involved with that bunch." With that, the group continued toward the clinic, and Timothy stayed behind with Kid Cole and Ruth.
"She'll be back, won't she, Reverend?" Ruth asked quietly.
"I don't know, Ruth," Timothy pointed out, "but I got the feeling that the new doctor isn't going to be what these folks are expectin'." He turned and started off toward the church, and Ruth turned to Kid Cole. He simply shrugged his shoulders, knowing there wasn't much he could do about the town's reaction to the replacement doctor or the permanent one, but he also knew that if Michaela was gone too long, she might not have a job to come back to.
February 1871 – On a Train to Boston
By nightfall, an exhausted Michaela had been ready to sleep, so Sully had helped her to transform the seats into a bed, and he'd left the compartment to let her rest. Only their small group was occupying the train car at this point, so Sully had taken a compartment nearby, while Johnny curled up in a small bed across from him. Rebecca and Mary had already fallen asleep for the night, and all was quiet except for the occasional screech of the train's brakes.
Rebecca and Michaela had intended to share a compartment at night for sleeping purposes, but exhaustion in all of the travelers hadn't let that be so. So, Sully prepared his own bed quietly, not wanting to disturb any of his family.
He glanced over into Michaela's compartment, seeing that she was sleeping soundly. He wondered if she was comfortable and thought about talking to her about resting in St. Louis for a few days when they arrived. He didn't want her to be uncomfortable, but train trips, no matter how luxurious, were always somewhat uncomfortable.
He lay his head back against the pillow and stared up at the oil lamp that was screwed into the wall. It shook with each movement of the train, and it seemed to hypnotize Sully and entice him into a dream-filled sleep.
"Where is she? What'd ya do with her?" he growled, barging into the parlor of the Quinn home, his eyes full of rage and worry at the same time.
"Calm down, Mr. Sully!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Please, calm down."
"Where is she! She was just fine this mornin', and then…"
"She's…"
"Where! Tell me where she is! Ya can't keep me from her."
"I'm not keeping you from her, Mr. Sully. You did a fine job of that yourself." His heart began to pound. "She went into labor after you left this morning, and she gave birth just a few hours ago. While you were out, she died." Sully felt his heart fall from his chest.
"You're lyin'. You're lyin'. She can't be dead. She can't!"
"I wouldn't lie about this! You're the one who put her in this position! You're the one who filled her head with this nonsense about having a wonderful life and fighting for what you believed in, while the rest of the world knew better!" He saw her body shake with anger. "I will never, forgive you, Mr. Sully. Never! You killed my daughter! You killed my baby girl!" Sully shook his head. It wasn't true. He'd just checked her room, hadn't he? It was all a blur.
"No! No! Michaela!" He turned and fled from the room, kicking down Michaela's bedroom door. Her bed was filled with bloodied sheets, as her body lay pale and motionless on the bed. His eyes filled with tears which spilled forth and cascaded down his cheeks. "No. It ain't true. It can't be." He knelt at the bed, taking her hand in his. "Wake up, Michaela. Ya gotta open your eyes." He kissed her cool knuckles, and he pressed her hand against his cheek. She didn't move. She didn't flinch. Her eyes were partially open, staring blankly at the ceiling. "God no!" He looked to the doctor in the corner, and the man averted his eyes. "Where's my child? Where?" The man shook his head.
"There is no child."
Sully sat up quickly, his heart racing in his chest, as his eyes focused in the darkness. He looked over at his son's sleeping form and breathed a heavy sigh.
Michaela heard Sully stirring in his compartment and opened her eyes. She sat up, peering across the dim train car.
"Sully?" she whispered. "Sully, are you alright?" Sully's breath caught in his throat, but he figured he should put her worries at ease. It had only been a dream.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine," he responded, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He took a few deep breaths and stood, keeping his balance on the shaky car and moving back into their compartment. Michaela was sitting up in her cot, and she reached for his hand.
"Are you certain? It sounded as if you were having a nightmare," she said gently, stroking the side of his face with her hand, and his heart nearly broke from the memory of her cool hand against his cheek in the dream.
"It's over now," he said quietly. He could see Michaela's worry glistening in the moonlight, and she leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his forehead. She wasn't certain it was over, but she knew that pressing the issue would only result in both of them hurting more.
"Come here," she breathed, taking his hand in hers. She gently pushed against his chest, and he lay back slowly. She slipped under his arm, and he secured it around her waist, letting her lie there comfortably.
"It was about the baby," he said gently. She slowly propped herself up to look into his eyes.
"What?"
"The dream. I had a dream…I lost you both." Michaela closed her eyes, the ache beginning to surface.
"You won't lose us," she promised. He started to protest, but she shook her head. "Sully. You won't." His fingers gently traced her jaw, and she smiled. "Go to sleep, sweetheart." His heart swelled again, remembering the first time she'd called him that. They'd been at the reservation, and she'd been tending to his bullet wound. She'd nearly lost him then, but she had stayed strong for him. She was a brilliant doctor and an amazing woman. But, what could he do for her? He couldn't heal her. He couldn't save her life if something were to go wrong. It terrified him, because life was so fragile, and that dream had been so real. It had been like all of the others. Thoughts of those dreams chilled him to the bone, and no matter how he tried, he couldn't feel warm, so he pulled her closer, hoping her warmth could warm him. She only let out a soft sigh, and he knew she was sleeping.
He tried, but he couldn't sleep. His heart was aching, and as much as it pained him, he longed for Boston so they could breathe a breath fresh air and settle down for a little while. He knew Boston was going to be just as difficult as back home, but at least there would be a doctor nearby; at least there would be help if it was needed.
After a while, Sully could tell by Michaela's breathing that she was in a deep sleep, so he gradually shifted her out of his arms and back into the bed. He knelt down beside her sleeping form, gently brushed her hair out of her face, and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. He smiled a little, hoping she would have sweet dreams of their baby, before he retreated back to his compartment and prayed that the Spirits would bring him a dreamless sleep.