Chapter 70

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

"Pa?" Tommy looked up, as the door opened, and Carrie walked into the room with a tray from Grace's.

"Hey darlin'," Tommy said quietly, smiling at the sight of his daughter doing something domestic. All of her life she'd been a wild child—a tomboy—and now she looked like the beautiful young woman that she was.

"Grace sent this over free of charge. Said she hopes ya feel better real soon." She placed the tray down across her father's lap. "Seen Doc Cassidy today?"

"He checked on me this mornin' and said everything was fine. Said I might be up and walkin' in a couple weeks."

"Dr. Mike thinks ya should rest a little longer."

"But darlin'…"

"What? Just 'cause Doc Cassidy's a man, you'll listen to him?" Tommy sighed heavily.

"That ain't what I'm sayin'. Dr. Mike ain't here, and Doc Cassidy is." Carried sighed heavily.

"Sorry, Pa. I didn't mean to snap at ya." Tommy eyed her.

"What's the matter?" She shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Is it Danny? Did he do somethin' to hurt ya?" She immediately shook her head.

"No! Daniel wouldn't hurt me, Pa."

"Then what's the matter?" She shook her head and slowly settled down into the chair beside his bed.

"I guess I'm just wishin' that Ma was here. There's some things I'd like to talk to her about…things I feel more comfortable talkin' to a lady about." Tommy looked down into his tray, feeling guilty for so many things once again.

"Would it help if I asked Olive to talk to ya?" Tommy asked. Carrie glanced at him, and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know what good it'd do."

"Might do a lot of good," Tommy responded. "Ya never know." Carrie stood and moved to the balcony to look out toward the mercantile.

"I don't know. I just wish I'd gotten more time with Ma. I wish I could remember her." Carrie turned back to Tommy. "Tell me about her…like you used to when I was little?" Tommy smiled a little, and he nodded his head, patting the chair beside the bed. She sat down in it again, her eyes staring into his, expecting him to fill the void in her heart with the memory of the woman who had brought her into the world.

"She was tall and beautiful…just like you. Ya got your dark hair from me, I think."

"I thought ya said Ma had dark hair too."

"Well, I guess it depends on the way the sun was shinin' on it," he ventured, swallowing hard. "She worked hard, even when she was carryin' you. I wanted her to take it easy, but she was determined that she could do things just as good as I could, and I was a big enough fool to let her try. She had you, and she was so proud. She loved ya, and she…she wanted a little girl so bad. She wanted to teach ya everything and dress ya up in them fancy dresses." Carrie grinned, and Tommy chuckled, squeezing her hand. "She sure did love ya though. I could see it in her eyes, and when…when she was gone, it felt like…like my entire world was gone. But I had you, and before she…well…she begged me to look after ya and raise ya up strong. I tried my best, Carrie…" Carrie squeezed his hand. He looked away, not wanting her to see that he'd only created the past to make her happy. If he told her the truth now, her entire life would have been built upon a lie.

"Ya did a good job." Tommy shook his head, but she spoke again. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be where I am today. I'm happy, Pa. I'm happier than I ever been in my entire life."

"I think that's more of Danny's doin' than mine, darlin'." He smiled at the sparkle in her eyes and watched her stand.

"I'm gonna go for a walk, Pa. Do ya need anything while I'm gone?"

"Nope. Just take care of yourself, and…"

"I could have Miss Olive come sit with ya. You two were lookin' awful cozy at the Sweetheart's Dance. I know you're sweet on her, and I bet she's just as sweet on you." She winked teasingly at him but was surprised to find him in a less than playful mood. Instead of a smile, she saw a deep frown set into his face, as he looked off in thought. "Pa? Pa?" She gently tapped him on the shoulder. "You ok, Pa?" He snapped back to reality, and he quickly nodded his head.

"Oh, I'm fine, darlin'," he said unconvincingly. "You go on, and I'm gonna rest for a little while." Carrie eyed him for a moment.

"Alright. Well, I'll be back in a little while." She left hesitantly, and Tommy situated himself in the bed, leaning his head against the wall, unable to get thoughts of Olive from his mind. If only he could have just rode out of there without that accident. Being away from her would have been easier than being so close to her without the satisfaction of being able to love her with everything he had.

February 1871 – On a Train to Boston

"Are we there yet?" Johnny asked with a tired yawn, as he stared out the window of his and Sully's train compartment. Michaela smiled and shook her head, and Sully stared at her, awed by the fact that she still managed to put on a smile after so many days on a train

"I'm afraid we aren't there just yet, sweetheart," Michaela said quietly, "but we'll be there in a few days."

"You sure?"

"Yes," she laughed. "Why don't you go play with Mary?"

"I don't wanna."

"Why not?"

"Her and her ma are sewin'."

"There's no reason you can't learn," Michaela said with an amused grin, as she played with a loose string on the sleeve of her dress. Johnny made a face.

"Sewin' is for girls, Dr. Mike," he pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Not necessarily," Michaela said with a chuckle. "Right, Sully?" Caught off guard, he only nodded.

"Sure," he replied. Johnny looked skeptically at his future mother.

"I sure ain't gonna sew no dress."

"Well, you don't have to, but sewing is very handy if you need to patch something up."

"Don't wives do that?" Johnny asked. "Grandpa said…"

"Well, some young men don't have wives, and they have to learn how to cook, clean, sew, and sometimes raise children…like your Grandpa did." Johnny nodded slowly. "And sewing is very important if you want to be a doctor."

"I didn't think 'bout that," Johnny said quietly. "But still, it seems awful girly." Michaela shook her head, and smiled, tousling the boy's hair. She glanced helplessly at Sully, and he only shrugged.

"I'm gonna go see if Mary wants to play a game." He quickly skirted out of the train compartment, and Michaela let out a laugh.

"He's certainly rambunctious today," she pointed out. Sully only nodded and leaned across to kiss her softly upon the lips, as his hand grazed against her knee. She giggled against his lips, as his stubble tickled her, and when she pulled back, she cocked her head to the side, gently traced her fingers over his soft lips, and said "I can see where he gets it." Sully grinned again and leaned in to savor another delicious kiss. A moment later, a loud shriek and a shudder separated them, as the train's brakes slowed the train for a minute. Michaela and Sully glanced at one another, before Sully stood up. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna see if somethin's wrong." He kissed her hand softly. "Don't worry. I'll be back in a few minutes." Michaela smiled and watched him go before settling back in her seat and staring out at the land that passed them by.

"Mind if I have a seat?" Michaela looked up to see Rebecca standing there with her sewing bag in one hand. "Johnny's stolen my sewing partner away." Michaela grinned and nodded, motioning toward the seat. "How are you feeling, Michaela?"

"Better," she said with a sigh. "I suppose nothing is ever going to be easy, but at least right now…between both worlds…I can find a little peace." She swallowed hard. "I'm just trying to figure out a way to tell Mother. I know that every wound we healed before she left Colorado Springs will be re-opened and re-examined." She shook her head.

"Don't worry about that now, Michaela. Boston is still days away, and right now, you should be enjoying the beautiful countryside…or at least the company of the man you love." Michaela blushed with embarrassment.

"Rebecca!" Rebecca grinned, and she patted her sister's hand. "And what about you?"

"What about me?" Rebecca questioned, glancing at her sister, dreading the impending question.

"Are you missing the Reverend?" Rebecca stiffened.

"There's nothing to talk about there, Michaela. The Reverend is…was…just a friend." Michaela nodded, and she let out a breath. "What?"

"What?" Michaela asked innocently.

"Don't play coy with me, little sister. You think there was something more there than there really was, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just an innocent observer," Michaela replied, holding up a hand. "I didn't say anything."

"But I know what you're thinking, Michaela, and you're wrong."

"Am I?" Rebecca swallowed hard.

"Yes." She closed her eyes. "Well, I thought there was something more there, but…but I was wrong."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, Michaela. It's that simple." Michaela turned in her seat.

"Nothing is ever simple when it comes to love." Her oldest sister shot her a glance.

"I don't love him!" Rebecca insisted. "I…I thought that perhaps I could, but…but he isn't the type of man I thought he was." Michaela nodded slowly.

"What kind of man did you think he was?" Rebecca sighed heavily, but Michaela took her hand and squeezed it, offering her support that she greatly needed right now. No matter how much she thought Michaela needed her, she had neglected the fact that she too needed her sister.

"He was kind and charming when we met. I thought…well, with him being a reverend, I felt that I could find something in him that many other men didn't possess. I thought I could find…something different." She sighed heavily. "But that changed." Michaela sighed softly.

"When he didn't defend me?" Michaela asked.

"How did…"

"I haven't been a part of that town for very long, but I know enough to know that Reverend Johnson tends to the spiritual well-being of the town, and my circumstances are not easy to accept for many people." Rebecca shook her head.

"But of all people, he should have been more understanding!" Rebecca insisted. "You're my sister above all else, and a man who doesn't help someone in need of support is not a man of God in my eyes." She shook her head. "Oh, Michaela, I'm sorry. You don't need to hear…"

"It's alright, Rebecca. But, I want you to know something. I know Reverend Johnson. He's a good man, and I can't blame him for not understanding this. My views aren't popular by any means, and to put it frankly, Sully and I are sinners in their eyes. But he cares for you. He's still a good man and a good friend, even if he can't accept a life I've chosen. If there's one thing I know about him…"

"How can he be a friend and not be supportive at the same time? When I looked into his eyes, Michaela, I thought I saw something different. I thought he'd understand when he found out." She shook her head, frowning. "I suppose I'm just too…revolutionary for my own good." Michaela grinned a little and put an arm around her sister.

"You have no idea how much your support means to me, but please don't give up a chance to be happy because of me. I want you to be happy. I want Mary to be happy." Rebecca nodded, and she stood up.

"I have a lot of thinking to do, Michaela, but just so you know, you're my sister, and you're more important to me than any man who can't make up his own mind about the world." She walked off, and Sully returned a moment later, barely giving Michaela time to catch her breath. She smiled a little, deciding to focus on enjoying the rest of her journey. If there was one thing she knew about her eldest sister, it was that she needed her space before anymore questions could be asked, so Michaela decided to distract herself and enjoy Sully's company again.

"Is everything alright, Sully?" she wondered.

"Yeah. Apparently there was somethin' on the tracks…wild animal. It moved 'fore they could hit it." Michaela sighed with relief, and Sully sat down beside her, stretching his legs out along the seats across from them. Michaela yawned, and Sully pulled his arm around her. She gently rested her head on his shoulder and smiled.

"I'm looking forward to sleeping in a comfortable bed again," she said with a sigh, indicating the uncomfortable quarters they had been sleeping in since boarding the train. "It'll be nice to not wake with a sore back." She glanced up at him. "What am I saying? I'm talking to a man who's used to sleeping on the ground." Sully chuckled.

"Well, I think ya spoiled me from that," he teased, caressing her arm and planting a kiss upon the top of her head.

"I wouldn't be so certain of that, Mr. Sully. I seem to remember you enjoying those nights on the reservation," she breathed, her voice low, and her eyes flickering with mischief. She flushed heavily, and Sully chuckled, gently bringing his lips down onto hers, feeling her breath hit his skin like the hot rays of the sun.

Michaela took a deep breath, as Sully's free arm slipped around her waist and pulled her closer to him, as he deepened their kiss, his tongue begging for entrance into her mouth, which she graciously allowed, tasting the sweetness of his kisses. And when his hands tangled in her hair, she almost forgot where they were and who was so very close by. When Mary's laughter echoed through the train car, Michaela gasped and pushed back on Sully's chest, giving him a sheepish smile. Sully grinned and watched her cheeks fill with red again.

"I don't know 'bout you," he whispered, "but I sure am lookin' forward to them…comfortable beds."

"Sully!" she laughed, as his hand teasingly squeezed her knee. "The children!" Sully reluctantly moved aside, as Johnny and Mary came charging into the compartment at record speed.

"When we get to Boston, can we go to the candy store?" Johnny asked.

"Confectionary," Mary said with a nod. Michaela giggled.

"Well, I suppose we could stop by there after we visit Mother," she said thoughtfully.

"How much longer?" Johnny asked as if staying on the train one more moment would be agonizing. Michaela and Sully looked at each other, smiled, and settled in for another long afternoon, as Johnny and Mary settled down and stared at the flat land as it passed by like an endless ocean of yellows and greens.

February 1871 – Boston

I often asked myself why I couldn't tell my mother the truth about Rebecca and Robert's father. After all, I was a married woman when they were conceived, but something inside of me felt that if she believed that Josef was the father, everything would be easier…especially for the children. I was lost, and the lie soon became easier to say, easier to believe, and easier to tell myself, even though the truth was obvious every time I looked into Josef's eyes, the children's eyes, and each time I saw my own soul in the mirror.

By the time Robert and Rebecca were old enough to toddle around the house, Josef, Martha, and I were keeping busy keeping the children out of trouble. Robert had a fascination with birds. Every time he saw one sitting on the window ledge of the nursery, he'd creep up to the window seat and watch the birds for hours. It was sweet to watch him, and for entire afternoons, he could busy himself with the melodic sound of the birds, while Rebecca stayed close to me. She was definitely her mother's daughter, but sometimes when she smiled, I could see Stephen in her eyes. I never told Josef that, but he knew too. He knew what I knew.

I became pregnant with Maureen just months after the twins were born, and I wasn't certain if I was ready to bear another man's child so soon, but Josef was my husband, and I did love him, and I knew that whatever life brought my way I could handle. I was young and had already gone through the death of a husband and a traumatic birth of my first two children.

Shortly after Robert and Rebecca turned one, I was settling into life as a mother and a wife, and I was looking forward to the rest of my life. Everything seemed perfect, and though I still missed Stephen, and sometimes, even though I saw him when he wasn't there, Josef made me feel loved and safe, and that was what I wanted…what I needed.

The day that changed my life forever as a mother happened on a beautiful autumn afternoon. The leaves were a crisp rainbow of golden, red, orange, and brown, and the breeze was cool but the sun shone brightly over the Charles, making it sparkle like a diamond. Robert wanted to go feed the ducks, so while Josef was working, I dressed the children and took them down to the river. We had a lovely afternoon, and my little ones played, while I sat in a daydream, thinking of the past and of the future.

At home that evening, I put the children down and retired early, where I dreamed of a beautiful little girl who said I would break her heart. After all of these years, that little girl's face is still in my heart, and I know her. I have broken her heart. And she's the one that told me he needed me. She's the one that warned me that I needed to get to Robert. But it was too late. My little boy was dead—a victim to his sleep—and I had failed him. I had failed Stephen. I had failed myself. I had failed at motherhood, the one thing I had been looking forward to since I had become pregnant for the first time.

"Marjorie?" Marjorie looked up from her seat in the waiting room of the hospital. Landon stood there with his hands buried in his pockets and a worried expression creasing his brow. Marjorie straightened up and stood. She stepped forward, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

"How is she?" she finally asked. Landon cleared his throat, and she knew it wasn't a good sign.

"The surgery was a success, but I'm afraid your mother isn't doing as well as I'd hoped. She's very weak, and if she doesn't regain her strength soon, she may not make it." Marjorie closed her eyes for a moment.

"May I see her?" she asked, her fingers gripping the book tightly.

"You may sit with her, but I'm afraid she's very groggy." Marjorie nodded.

"Maureen and Claudette will be here soon. Will you tell them the news, and please ask them to instruct Mother's servants to prepare the house for Michaela and Rebecca's arrival." Landon watched her walk away, her back straight as a pin, but her legs trembling with weakness and worry. He moved toward the window and looked out, shaking his head.

"Hurry home, Michaela. Your mother needs you now."