Chapter 71

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

"Thank you, Grace," Carrie said with a smile, as she returned a picnic basket to the side table. "Everything was real good."

"I'm glad ya liked it, Carrie," Grace said with a grin. "How's your pa?"

"He says the pain ain't so bad no more. Doc Cassidy checks on him when he can." Grace sensed the hesitation in Carrie's voice.

"Ya don't like Doc Cassidy much, do ya?"

"Not really. I don't think he's doin' his job right. Every time I go to see my pa, he ain't been checked on for a while, and when I ask Doc Cassidy, he acts like it's my fault or somethin'." Grace shook her head.

"I sure wish Dr. Mike was here. Olivia needs somethin' for her cough, and…"

"Why can't ya take her to see him?" Grace froze for a moment before placing her cutting knife down. She turned to Carrie, and she shook her head.

"He doesn't allow colored patients," she replied, her eyes reflecting the pain from her past. Carrie sighed heavily.

"That ain't right, Grace. I got half a mind to go give him a…"

"Now don't go doin' somethin' you'll regret."

"I won't regret it, Grace. Believe me!" Grace put her hand on Carrie's shoulder, and Carrie shook her head. "Can't ya talk to Kid Cole or to Daniel?"

"I'm afraid it ain't up to the law to decide what patients a doctor takes in," Grace said quietly. "Not even Kid Cole could convince him."

"I couldn't convince who?" Kid Cole and Ruth came walking into the café arm in arm. Ruth smiled politely at both Carrie and Grace.

"Afternoon ladies," she said softly. "Beautiful day, ain't it?"

"Sure is," Carrie replied, briefly glancing at Grace. "We were just talkin' bout Doc Cassidy and how he's…particular about what patients he takes in." Kid Cole shifted in his spot.

"I heard 'bout that," he said quietly. "I wish there was somethin' I could do. I don't like that fella too much myself, but I'm afraid I can't force him to take in patients." Grace shook her head.

"Nobody expects ya too. I guess I just took havin' Dr. Mike here for granted." Kid Cole removed his hat.

"Well, I'm pretty good friends with the doc in Soda Springs, and I was headin' that way today anyway. If ya'd like a ride over there, Grace, I'd be happy to take ya along." He winked at her. "'Sides, you can help me pick out somethin' pretty for my wife." Ruth giggled at his side, and he squeezed her shoulder. Grace smiled for the first time that day and nodded her head.

"Well, if I can get somebody to look after the café, I'd be…"

"I'll do it!" Ruth volunteered.

"You?" Grace asked.

"Sure! I can cook…I just ain't had the chance lately, what with your fine cookin'." Ruth smiled, and Kid Cole nodded.

"She's a mighty fine cook, Ma'am. It'd only be a few hours anyhow." Grace pondered her options for a moment before nodding.

"Alright," she answered. "I'll go tell Robert E." She brushed her hands on her apron, removed the garment, and handed it to Ruth. "Thank you so much, Ruth. It means a lot."

"No thanks needed. I'd be happy to help out." Grace smiled gratefully at her before heading off to see her husband. Ruth hurried about to check the menu to see what she needed to prepare, and she enlisted Kid Cole to help her serve until he was ready to go to Soda Springs.

Carrie excused herself and headed toward the mercantile, but before she could step foot on the porch, she was greeted by the sight of Doc Cassidy standing with Hank at the double doors, both smoking a cigar. She heard them speaking in low voices, so she casually busied herself in the produce bin, hiding the fact that she was eavesdropping.

"Sounds like I got here just in time, huh?" Doc Cassidy snickered. "A woman who was stubborn enough to force her way into medical school comes all the way from Boston just to get herself in trouble?" He snickered along with Hank.

"Well, she might be book smart, but she sure ain't got a lot of sense. She laid with an Injun lover, after all." He laughed. "Hell, I bet Sully's got a few Injun babies runnin' around that reservation." Hank tossed his cigar onto the ground and shoved his hand into his pocket to retrieve his flask. "Any chance you'll be stickin' around? I'm sure most folks would rather go to you than that woman."

"I'm afraid not. I'm only here as long as I'm needed. My patients are being well taken care of, and I'm getting paid much more there than I am here." Hank shrugged his shoulders. "No, I'm afraid you'll have to deal with the woman yourself. After all, this is the town that was desperate enough to hire some female to do a man's job." He tipped his hat to Hank and headed off to the clinic. Hank watched him go, and he crossed his arms across his chest. He noticed Carrie watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"Well, well," he pointed out. "It's as plain as the nose on your face that you was spyin', so why not own up to it." Carrie tossed an apple back into the bin and turned toward him.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, c'mon. All you women's the same. All you do is poke your nose into everybody else's business. All you're good for is…"

"Whorin'?" Carrie asked, taking him by surprise. "Your choice of work sure shows what ya think of women, don't it? Ya ever think that maybe you ain't so perfect yourself, Hank?"

"What's goin' on here?" came a voice that chilled her to the bone. She turned around briskly and stared into those eyes. Those cold, dark eyes that she hated more than anything else in the world.

"You stay the hell away from me," she spat, turning on her heels and walking into the mercantile. Hank snickered and glanced at Jake.

"Well, you sure got a way with the ladies." But before he could get a response, Jake was turning and heading off in the opposite direction. Hank just shrugged and went back to the saloon to tend to his customers and his women.

Tommy was surprised when a knock came to his door and the face that appeared before him wasn't his daughter.

"Olive?" She smiled plainly and nodded, coming in with nothing as an excuse for her visit. "I gotta say…I'm surprised to see ya here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna come, but…I figured ya might like some company." He smiled a little, and he looked down.

"Just so ya know, I didn't do this on purpose just to stick around." Olive couldn't resist a smile.

"I didn't figure. A man's gotta be a fool to break his leg on purpose, ya know." Tommy chuckled.

"Ya always were one to put me in my place. Truth is, I kinda liked that." He sighed, knowing that going down memory lane with her usually wasn't very pleasant, but the soft smile she gave him urged him on. "Carrie's the same way, ya know? She takes after you. She's got spunk. She ain't afraid to tell people what she thinks of 'em. Sometimes I wonder if that mouth of hers ever stops goin'." They both let out a comfortable laugh. "See, she takes after you in that way, but she sure don't favor your looks." He swallowed hard. "I mean, she's beautiful…not to say you ain't…but she looks like me is all I'm…"

"It's alright, Tommy. You don't have to do that." She took a deep breath. "Things ain't the way they were, Tommy. They never will be. It ain't meant to be like that."

"Why not?" She looked up sharply.

"'Cause we've both changed. We made choices, and…"

"And look where them choices got us. You're all alone, and I'm sittin' here with a broken leg, wishin' I coulda gave my baby girl a better life. Olive, life ain't easy, but don't ya ever think about what might've happened if you'd stayed?"

"Sure I do, but that's beside the point. You were married, and…" Tommy looked away.

"I loved her. God knows I did, but she wasn't nothin' like you. She didn't make me feel the way you did. When ya left, Olive…I was lost. I didn't want her to see it, but I think she did. She tried her best to make me happy, rest her soul, but somethin' wasn't right after you left. It ain't ever been right." Olive wasn't quite sure how to respond, but she didn't have to. Footsteps in the hall shushed them both, and a moment later, Carrie walked in, surprised to see Olive there.

"Oh! I'm sorry for interruptin'."

"That's alright," Olive replied, seeing the distress on Carrie's face. "What's wrong?" She swallowed hard.

"I was lookin' for you actually. Saw that Matthew Cooper was watchin' the store for ya while you was over here, so I came to talk to you about getting a job." Tommy and Olive both glanced at one another.

"A job? What for?" Tommy asked.

"Well, Doc Cassidy is askin' for more money than Dr. Mike ever would, and well, I thought that if I worked at the mercantile, it'd give Miss Olive more time to do other things instead of worryin' all day 'bout her cattle and the store at the same time."

"Well," Olive spoke up, "I could use the help, but are ya sure it's what ya wanna do?" Carrie nodded.

"Darlin', now…we'll figure out how to pay the doc some way, and I don't think ya ought to be workin'."

"Why not? All I know is cattle drivin'. So what? Ain't it time I figured out how to do somethin' else with my life? I'm a grown woman, anyhow." Tommy cleared his throat.

"What's Daniel think 'bout this?"

"Well, it could be temporary, but even if he don't like it, I still wanna work. I don't want nobody tellin' me how to live my life." She stood tall, defiant, and she swallowed hard. "If you'll have me, Miss Olive, I'd sure like to have a job." Olive swallowed hard and glanced at Tommy. She wasn't about to deny the child she'd given up so long ago of a job. So, she nodded her head and stood up.

"Well, welcome to the world of shop keeping," Olive said with a smile. "I can guarantee that it's good pay but it gets awfully boring at times." Carrie grinned.

"I don't mind. Anything's gotta be better than chasin' after a bunch of smelly old cows all day." Tommy shook his head and chuckled.

"I s'pose I can't talk you outta this?" he asked. She hurried over to his bedside and kissed his cheek.

"Sorry, Pa. Ya can't, but I promise I won't enjoy it too much," she teased. He rolled his eyes and shooed them both out of the room, grateful to see his daughter interacting with her mother. He only hoped that everything would remain calm and not begin to pull apart at the seams.

February 1871 – Boston

I felt like a failure as a mother after Robert was gone. The mention of his name was enough to send me into fits of tears. It was soon silently decided that Robert's memory would be in our hearts, but the easiest way for us to cope and to help young Rebecca to cope would be to continue our lives as if everything was all right. I was heavily pregnant, and Josef was worried about me and about the baby. Rebecca missed her brother, but it seemed as if my melancholy had affected her as well. She soon stopped asking about him, and by the time Maureen came into the world, Rebecca seemed to forget her constant playmate, though I could see in her eyes that she knew something wasn't right.

My family had rarely been a part of the children's lives, and the children grew closer to Josef's family. Stephen's family, having no idea that Rebecca was biologically their grandchild, had disappeared from Boston and gone their separate ways to New York and San Francisco respectively.

Once Maureen was born, I felt such a sense of accomplishment. My firstborn child with Josef was perfect, though she seemed ready to live a life that society had set in motion by the time she was old enough to walk. She was everything that reminded me of my own mother. Her eyes and her hair reminded me of her so much. She clung to me and never showed much affection for her father. I suppose the blame could lie would me, because I coddled her and insisted on watching over her at every moment. Rebecca enjoyed her little sister, and it seemed that over time, she forgot about Robert, or at least learned to accept that he was no longer spoken about. She was too young to ask for him…to understand death. The pain didn't go away, and somehow, I was naïve enough to believe that giving Josef a son would ease the loss. But when Maureen came and then Claudette, it was obvious that no matter what, the pain of losing Robert would always be there. Nothing could fill that void.

There were nights when I cried myself to sleep, hating myself for trying to forget him. Sometimes I dreamed of him lying asleep on a bed of clouds with Stephen standing watch over him. I spent my days running after the little ones, and by the time Marjorie entered our lives—stubborn as a mule but much more beautiful—I began questioning my choices as a mother. All of my girls had separate personalities and dispositions. Rebecca was the watchful one who made certain her younger sisters were safe when my head was turned. She and Marjorie were closer, while Maureen and Claudette kept to themselves. I loved all of my girls, but I couldn't deny the fact that something was wrong. Something was wrong with the family portrait we had painted. I began to wonder if maybe a son for Josef would help to heal the wounds, but deep down, I knew that nothing would.

Marjorie closed her eyes and placed the book aside. She glanced over at her mother. No change. The clock had ticked away the days, the hours, the minutes, and the seconds until Michaela and Rebecca's arrival, and Marjorie still held onto one ounce of hope that she could comfort her mother and be enough to keep her strong. But, unfortunately, she had never been her mother's strength.

Elizabeth had regained consciousness for only a few minutes after her surgery, and only moments after Marjorie had gone to sit with her had she gone back into a heavy sleep. She barely moved, but she was breathing, and her pulse was steady. Landon had said it was only a matter of time.

The silence as of late had gotten Marjorie thinking about Robert. How would their lives have changed if Robert hadn't died? Perhaps she never would have been born. Perhaps one son and one daughter would have been enough. Had she merely been a failed attempt at having a son?

"Why was it always Michaela, Mother? Or Rebecca? Why wasn't I important enough to worry about? After I got married, it seemed as if I was an afterthought. I was invited to family dinners, parties, dances…but when you needed a confidant, you never called for me. Or Claudette. Or Maureen. They certainly haven't been around often, but I've been here, Mother. Why didn't you love me as you loved them?" She closed her eyes and placed her hand against her forehead, choking back a sob. "Why wasn't I good enough? I tried to make you proud. I married that lout just to please you. I had his children. Now what do I have? Nothing. I have nothing, and I'm here for you, but you can't bother yourself or waste your energy on me. Why not, Mother? Why don't I matter?"

A tear trickled down Marjorie's cheek, and she quickly brushed it away, but it was replaced by another and then another, and she couldn't stop herself from sobbing into her hands.

"I'm sorry if I've disappointed you," she whispered. "I wanted your approval more than anything, and I'm afraid that by seeking that…I've only disappointed you. I failed in my marriage. Look at Michaela. She's with some mountain man, yet you're proud of her because she has a man, and I couldn't keep one." She shook her head. "I don't understand you, and I wish I could say your journal helped. It might help them, but not me. Did you write it with only them in mind? Don't you even give a damn about how I feel?" She gasped at her words and placed her hand over her mouth. She broke down again. "Don't you dare leave me, Mother. It isn't time yet. We still need more time."

She stood up and began to pace along the length of the bed, letting her hand run against the silk that covered her mother's tired body. She glanced at her, willing her to open her eyes. She hoped that her mother could feel the energy of her anger and open her eyes to see the pain she'd caused her. But at another glance, she noticed the color draining from her mother's face, and the very stillness of her body was a horrific sight.

"Oh God. No. Mother!" She grasped her hand, only to feel her life slipping away. "No! Don't you dare die on me! Mother! No!" With as much strength as she could gather, she screamed, "Dr. Webber!" Landon rushed into the room, and as quickly as he had entered, she was being led away by two young nurses, and the last thing she saw before the doors slammed in her face was Elizabeth's lifeless eyes flutter open only to focus on her for a moment and shut her out once again.

February 1871 – On a Train to Boston

"You alright?" Michaela looked up quickly, broken from her thoughts by the sound of Sully's voice. The panic that had stricken her heart at the thought of going back to Boston began to dissipate, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

"Yes. Yes, I'm alright," she assured him, clenching her fists in her lap. Sully noticed this newfound tension and reached over to place his hand over hers.

"Ya don't seem like it." She smiled awkwardly. "Ya feelin' ok?"

"Yes. Everything's fine. I'm just…I suppose I'm just nervous. We'll be in Boston in a few hours, and it doesn't seem real. In just a few hours, I'll be telling Mother that…that we're having a baby." She closed her eyes, her body trembling. "I'm afraid of losing her, Sully."

"Your ma is a tough lady, Michaela," Sully assured her. "I'm sure she'll pull through just fine."

"Perhaps we shouldn't tell her until she's stronger. I don't want anything upsetting her." Sully nodded.

"Whatever ya think is best, Michaela. I'll be there beside ya the whole time." She smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Sully. Thank you for being here for me." Sully picked her hand up in his and pressed a gentle kiss there.

"I'll always be here. Ya know that." She nodded, and just as she was about to speak again, Johnny and Mary came rushing in.

"Is it true! Aunt Rebecca just said we're almost to Boston!" Johnny exclaimed, catching both Sully and Michaela off guard by what he'd just called Mary's mother without thinking. Michaela smiled and went along with the boy.

"That's true," she assured him. "We're almost there." The boy's eyes lit up, and he hurried off with Mary to occupy an empty compartment and stare out at the land that passed them by. Michaela turned to Sully, who chuckled softly.

"Did he say what I think he did?"

"He did," she grinned, as he enveloped her in his arms, embracing the moment, because he was certain these precious times were about to be cut short by this new world they were entering with Michaela's family. Holding her now felt so right, and he began to realize that slowly, day-by-day, their little family was being brought together by the inevitable force of love.

After a few minutes, Michaela pulled away from Sully, and the flicker of life in her eyes made his heart thud. She leaned in, pressing her lips against his, missing the feel of his closeness. She missed the nights he held her close and made love to her, making her feel pleasure that she had never known existed until just a couple of short months ago. The thought of their nights together spurred Michaela onward, and her tongue softly darted out to beg at the barriers of his lips, seeking entrance into a passionate kiss.

But before he granted her that loving kiss she so desired, he gently pushed back on her shoulders, his lips slightly parted in desire. She smiled, her cheeks flushing, but her eyes telling him what she wanted.

"How…how much longer do we gotta…wait?" he asked. She sighed softly, remembering Dr. Bernard's words.

"I suppose the doctor we see in Boston will tell us." She smiled sheepishly at him.

"Do ya know any doctors that you'd be comfortable seein'?" he asked, knowing that many of her father's old colleagues were still around. Michaela couldn't help but grin at his impatience.

"There are a few," she said with a nod. "I know very few who won't ask questions and will give me proper medical care despite the circumstances." She squeezed his hand. "I miss you." He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Soon." His face lit up.

"Soon?" She grinned and nodded, and she planted a kiss to the corner of his mouth, deciding not to tempt fate or herself any longer. So, she relaxed against the seat, and they fell into a conversation that both needed in order to get their minds off of what they both truly wanted at that very moment. Each other.