Chapter 72

February 1871 – Boston

The brakes screeched, as the train began to slow when the station appeared in sight, and Michaela felt her heart nearly jump into her throat. Her stomach twisted into hundreds of tiny knots, as her palms sweated beneath the mask of her lacy black gloves.

"Ya ready?" Sully asked quietly, as he took Michaela's hand in his, feeling her trembling.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she whispered, as the train's slow halt finally came to a complete stop. "It hasn't been long since I've been here, but…it still feels like a lifetime." Sully nodded.

"Well, whenever you're ready, ya ain't gonna have to do this alone." Her eyes met his.

"I almost think I should." Sully turned toward her.

"What're ya sayin'?" She took a deep breath, searching his eyes, which seemed to be her safe haven as of late. She smiled gently and touched her fingertips against his cheek, silently assuring him that this was something she had to do without him.

"Sully, Mother never gave us her blessing. Who's to say what she'd say or do if you came in there with me to tell her that we're…that we're having a baby?" Sully nodded his head. She sighed softly. "I know this hasn't been easy for you either." He nodded but spoke up.

"If ya wanna do this by yourself, I ain't gonna stop ya, but ya know I'll be there if ya want me." Michaela smiled and wrapped her arms around him, brining her head down onto his chest. She felt his heart against her cheek, and it reassured her. "Don't worry. It's gonna be alright."

"When it's time, Sully, I'll find a way to tell her. I just want her to know that I didn't do this to hurt her. She seems to think that all of my decisions are based against what she wants." Michaela shook her head and pulled away from Sully. He took her hand in his, and she smiled gratefully. But, when the train lurched forward in its final stop, their connection broke, and Johnny and Mary's voices carried her toward the front of the car. Sully followed, and he joined his family, wondering if he should hold his son back. The boy's excitement made him appear as if as soon as the doors opened, he'd jump off onto the platform and run through the streets of Boston at record speed in search of the confectionary.

"How are you feeling, Michaela?" Rebecca asked, as she held tightly onto Mary's hand.

"I'm not certain," Michaela admitted, taking a deep breath to try to calm her stomach.

"It'll be a nice change of pace," Rebecca said quietly. "I must admit that I've missed the hustle and bustle. It'll be even nicer when we get back to Colorado Springs, and we can enjoy the quiet and calm again." Michaela grinned, and she felt Sully's hand on her lower back. His hand could still make her flesh tingle despite the barrier of her clothes, and she shuddered, which did not go unnoticed to her lover. They could easily feel each tremble of fear and each shudder of desire from one another, and he knew that her emotions had been playing games with her lately. He only hoped that his attempts at comfort were helping, because he knew there wasn't much else he could do now.

When the platform was ready to receive the weary travelers, everyone stepped out into fresh air for the first time in days. Michaela felt a familiar tingle, as the Boston air hit her pale face, and she reached back, feeling Sully's hand tuck into hers. She smiled as they all started off to find a carriage, and Johnny began a string of a hundred questions that he was determined to find answers for.

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

"Afternoon, Horace," Timothy said with a smile, as he placed his hands on the counter at the depot.

"Reverend," Horace said with a nod. "What can I do for ya?" Timothy gave him a look.

"Robert E. said ya had a telegram for me." Realization flooded over Horace's face.

"Oh, I'm sorry Reverend. I guess I got distracted." He started leafing through the pile of telegrams. Timothy studied Horace's fatigued features.

"Everything alright, Horace?"

"I'm fine, Reverend. Just…ain't been sleepin' right lately." Timothy sighed softly.

"Have you gone to see Dr. Cassidy?" he wondered. Horace shook his head.

"Naw, I ain't sick. I just…" He shook his head and went back to searching through the telegrams. "I s'pose things got their way of weighin' on your mind. Think I'm just feelin' bad."

"Did something happen, Horace?" Horace looked at him incredulously.

"Well, you were there the night I told the whole town 'bout Dr. Mike and Sully's baby." Timothy drew back a bit.

"Oh," he said quietly.

"It wasn't my place to say. I didn't think it was right what they done, but…but after I thought about it for a while, I figured that it was their decision. Why should anybody else tell 'em what they can and can't do? I mean, would you like it if somebody told you what to do and when to…" Before he could finish his sentence, Timothy cleared his throat.

"Horace, you don't actually believe that what they did was proper, do you?"

"Well, who's to say? I mean, Hank's got prostitutes that can't get outta their contracts 'til they run out. But, we let them stay here in town, don't we? Dr. Mike and Sully love each other. They're getting married in a few months. 'Sides, they ain't hurtin' nobody." Timothy went to speak again, but Horace found the telegram and handed it to them. "Here ya go." A telegram began to come in. "I gotta take this, Reverend. Afternoon." He nodded, but Timothy was lost in the words on the paper in his hands. He slowly stepped away from the depot, and he swallowed hard, re-reading what was written down.

"Afternoon, Reverend," said a passerby, but the voice went unnoticed to him. He quickly folded the paper up, stuck it in his pocket, and headed off toward the church to pray.

Daniel stepped into the mercantile, and he found what he was looking for. He smiled and walked up to the counter, as Carrie was bent over looking for more brown paper to wrap the customers' purchases in.

"Well, I think I'd like you. Do I gotta pay here, or would dinner at Grace's do?" Carrie gasped and straightened up quickly, her eyes quickly meeting Daniel's.

"Daniel!"

"Scare ya?" She made a face.

"No."

"Sure I did."

"Oh, stop acting like a school boy," she replied, slugging his shoulder across the counter. She left a sting, which he quickly treated by rubbing the sore spot.

"Hey now! What's the idea?"

"You tell me," she replied. He raised an eyebrow, wondering if he'd done something to make her mad. But, she put her hands on her hips.

"You can't go around sneakin' up on folks like that."

"Sorry," he said quietly. She made another face and went back to work. "What're you doin'?"

"What's it look like? I'm workin'."

"Working?" She nodded. "Since when?" She shook her head.

"Since Miss Olive hired me today. Since then." Daniel nodded slowly.

"So I guess this means we're stayin' in Colorado Springs." With her back turned, she tried not to laugh.

"Well, you can do whatever ya want." When she felt his hand on her shoulder, she couldn't resist turning around to meet his gaze.

"Ya don't mean that, do ya?"

"Sure I do!" she grinned, playfully shrugging his hand away. "It's a free country now, ain't it?"

"What's gotten into you?" Daniel asked, coming around the counter.

"Hey! Customers ain't allowed back here," she said quickly, about to push him away, but his arms caught around her waist, and she didn't put up much of a struggle, when he pulled her close.

"Well, if it's a free country, I might as well go ask Milly Parker to dinner instead," he lied. "She's been givin' me the eye, ya know." He started to pull back, but she pulled him closer, and a moment later, laughter turned to soft kisses, before a clearing throat interrupted them. They pulled away from one another to see Jake standing there, his eyes on Carrie. Both Daniel and Carrie stepped back a bit, but Daniel refused to move from behind the counter.

"What do you want?" Carrie asked, not caring that she wasn't acting professionally.

"New flask," he replied.

"Figures," Carrie muttered under her breath.

"Ya know, Carrie, ya ought to treat me with a little more respect. I am the mayor."

"Yeah, and you're good for nothin'," Daniel spoke up. "I'm surprised they ain't replaced you yet." Jake's icy glare fixed on Daniel, but Daniel remained strong. Carrie took a new flask out from under the counter and wrapped it up.

"Five dollars," she said quietly. Jake tossed a bill her way, but he stayed put.

"Why don't ya get out of here, Jake?"

"I'm a payin' customer. I don't gotta go nowhere."

"I think ya overstayed your welcome," Daniel replied, receiving a step on the foot from Carrie. He glanced at her, but she didn't move. Jake merely took his flask and stepped out of the mercantile. Daniel turned to Carrie. "What was that all about?"

"Olive wouldn't be happy to know that ya were treatin' a payin' customer that way. It ain't good business."

"Well, I don't work here."

"But you are the deputy."

"You're sayin' ya don't want me sayin' nothin' to him?" Carrie sighed heavily. "Carrie, I wanna kill that man."

"Don't say that!" she hissed.

"It's true! I can't look at him without thinkin' about what he did to you. Carrie, I love you, alright? Is it so wrong for me to wanna protect you?"

"I know. It's not wrong. Daniel, I just don't wanna start no trouble. As much as you want him to pay…I want it more. But this ain't the way. He's just bein' the jerk he is, and folks can see it. He ain't doin' nothin' but hurtin' himself."

"But he hurts you too. I can see it, Carrie. Every time ya see him, ya relive the past a little bit. It hurts ya." She stiffened.

"Well, these things take time. Ya don't get over it just like that. I got my scars. I'll live with them." Daniel gently put his hands on her shoulders.

"C'mon. I'll take you to dinner, and we'll talk."

"I can't," she said, stepping out of his touch. "I promised Olive I'd close. She had to go out to the ranch." Daniel sighed heavily, and she felt guilty. "How about tomorrow?" She glanced up at him, seeing the disappointment in his eyes, but he nodded.

"Tomorrow then." Carrie sighed and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I got to keep busy, and this is keepin' me busy. It's keepin' me from doin' things I'd like to do but that might get me in trouble." She smiled devilishly.

"Like what?"

"Like tellin' that no good doctor just where he can stick that money he's wantin' for takin' care of Pa." She took a deep breath. "Now I gotta get back to work!" Daniel wouldn't leave without one more kiss, so he pulled her in, and she gasped against his lips, but practically melted against them a moment later. And when he pulled back, she watched him leave and could hardly wait for tomorrow to come.

February 1871 – Boston

"Hello, Martha!" Michaela said excitedly, as she hugged the housemaid. Martha's eyes went wide with happiness at the sight of dear Michaela. "Harrison!" Sully, Rebecca, Mary, and Johnny stood quietly behind them.

"Oh, Miss Michaela, it's wonderful to see you again!" Martha exclaimed. "And Miss Rebecca!"

"It's lovely to see you again, Martha. You remember Mr. Sully?"

"Of course! How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," Sully said with a nod. "This is my boy, Johnny."

"Hi!" Johnny said, extending his hand. "Dr. Mike's gonna be my new ma." Martha grinned at the boy's greeting, and she shook his hand.

"And, hello to you," she answered. "Mary! You've grown so big!" Mary grinned and hugged the old housemaid. Michaela glanced toward the marble staircase.

"Is Mother sleeping? I wouldn't want to disturb her." Martha and Harrison glanced at one another, uncertain of what to say at this awkward moment. Mary took Johnny's hand.

"Come with me! I'll show you the garden!" Before Johnny could protest, a little girl half his size was dragging him down the hall and toward the patio doors. Michaela grinned, and Sully began to help her off with her coat, but Martha stopped them.

"Martha?"

"Mrs. Quinn isn't here, Miss Michaela," she said gently. "Your sister…Miss Marjorie…she's at the hospital with her."

"The hospital?" Rebecca asked, startled.

"Dr. Webber performed surgery on her just a few days ago." Michaela gasped slightly, and she gripped Sully's hand.

"Mother," she whispered.

"Marjorie asked that I direct you to the hospital." Michaela looked toward where the children had gone, but Martha stepped toward her. "Don't worry about the children, Ma'am. I'll watch over them." Michaela nodded.

"Thank you," she whispered. She turned and hurried out the door. Quickly, Rebecca and Sully followed behind, all hoping that their arrival wasn't too late.

Our family was almost complete. When I found out I was expecting after Marjorie, I thought for certain that this child would be a boy. Josef was certain too. We had already picked out a name. He would be Michael Quinn, and we were going to raise him to be a proud, successful, headstrong young man. I was excited at the prospect of bringing another life into the world. I expected to have an easy pregnancy, an easy labor, and an even easier delivery. After giving birth to Rebecca and Robert, giving birth had been easier with each child, and Josef saw no reason to suspect any complications with our final child.

When I was in my fourth month, I nearly miscarried, and I was put on bed rest for a month. I was terrified, and I already felt as if I'd failed this child. I promised myself and my child that I would always keep him or her from harm. I would be watchful, and I was determined that I wouldn't fail as I had with Robert.

More complications followed this pregnancy, and I swore that this was the last one. I wasn't certain if I was prepared for anymore children. This would be our last. This would be our son. Our golden child. I felt guilty for already building hopes and dreams around a son that I didn't even know was a son, while I had four other children that needed my constant attention. I wondered often if they felt left out, and I tried my hardest to pay special attention to each and every one of them. But now I realize that I failed at some point. Somewhere along the line, I became the mother that refused to bargain; refused to open up her mind to new ideas. I don't know when it happened, but when I became a mother, I changed. I had always thought I had changed for the better, but as my girls grew, I realized that they were becoming exactly what my mother had wanted me to become, and then I realized that I too had fulfilled her dreams. Something inside of me had frozen, and I had failed myself once again.

The night Michaela was born, my labor was the longest I had yet to endure. I had never experienced such excruciating pain with any of my previous deliveries. It seemed that with each push, the baby struggled all the more, but when she finally came into the world, her wails pierced our hearts, and she became the final piece to the eternally unfinished puzzle. She was our Michaela.

I watched her sleep and rocked her back and forth, and I refused to sleep for the first night of her life, because I was terrified that this precious gift would be taken from me. I was captivated by this beautiful infant. I'd never seen a child so alert, so bright-eyed, or so curious at such a tender age. But she was another girl, and I was determined that if she couldn't be Josef's son, I would raise her to make him proud, to make us both proud.

Rebecca doted on Michaela, and she never truly stopped. From the night she was born, Michaela was under the watchful eye of her eldest sister, and I knew they would be forever friends, forever sisters. Marjorie, Maureen, and Claudette seemed to shy away from their youngest sister, and unfortunately, being the youngest meant that Michaela was teased the most, but I tried to keep the peace. I wanted the best for her, but she seemed to favor her father's affections. I knew from the time Michaela took her first steps—took them toward Josef—that though I had given birth to her, she was truly her father's daughter, but I would never stop fighting for her. In the way that daughters need their mothers to approve, I needed her approval just the same. I wanted her to laugh with me and confide in me like she could with her father, but I soon became the disciplinarian, and I had lost the battle.

Marjorie sighed heavily and closed the book, tucking it away again. She hadn't left her mother's bedside since she'd been allowed back in the room. Elizabeth was tough. She was dedicated to living. She was a fighter. The most she felt she could do was remain dedicated to helping her fight.

"You have my approval, Mother," she breathed. "For what it's worth." For the first time in her life, she wanted to curl up at her mother's side and sleep, holding her hand and softly assuring her that she'd never leave her. She'd always love her. She'd always be her little girl.

The doors opened wide, and Landon walked in with a nurse. Marjorie stood up and clutched the book in her hands.

"How is my patient?" he asked with a friendly and sympathetic smile.

"I don't think there's been any change. She hasn't opened her eyes. I don't think she will." She looked away. "Not for me." Landon began to check Elizabeth's vitals, and Marjorie moved toward the windows. She looked out over the city, and she wondered why she was the one sitting here with a woman who had shown obvious favoritism over her daughters for their entire lives. She was one that had been shown less regard, yet here she was.

"She's stable for now," Landon finally answered. He looked up at her quietly. "Why don't you go home to rest?"

"Home," she whispered. Suddenly, that was a foreign word to her. So she shook her head. "No. I can't leave her. She can't be alone."

"I can stay with her," the nurse offered.

"No!" Marjorie snapped. "She needs me. Maybe she doesn't know it, but she does." Landon nodded to the nurse.

"We'll be back in a while. If you need anything…"

"I'm fine," Marjorie assured him. Quietly, the two left, and Marjorie opened the book back up in her lap. She glanced from the pages to her mother's silent, unreadable face. "When I was a little girl, I used to pretend I was you. When we'd play in the garden, I would yell at Maureen and Claudette. I wouldn't let them touch the rose bushes." She let out a choked sob and shook her head. "I did want to be like you. I suppose even that wasn't good enough."

"Want me to go in with you?" Sully asked gently, as they faced the doors to the hospital. Michaela shook her head. As much as she wanted him to go in with her, she knew that she and Rebecca needed time alone with their mother.

"It's alright, Sully." Sully nodded and gently squeezed her hand.

"I'll be here when you're ready to go." Michaela flashed him a brief smile that told him all would be fine, and she headed into the building with her sister.

"It's going to be alright, Mother," Marjorie said gently, patting her still hand. "I know it."

"Michaela." Marjorie froze.

"Mother? It's me? Me…Marjorie," she breathed. She swallowed hard and sniffled.

"You need to know," she whispered.

"I'll tell her. I'll tell her whatever it is."

"Marry him, Michaela. Love him." She took a heavy breath—one that Marjorie thought would be her last—but she opened her eyes and squeezed the hand that held hers.

"It's time," Rebecca said softly, as their shoes clacked in unison down the stale hallway. Michaela nodded, and she continued to stare ahead.

"I'm afraid," she whispered. "I'm afraid of losing her."

"Are you going to tell her?" Michaela swallowed hard, thinking about her choices.

"What if it…what if it kills her?" She looked down, uncertain of what to do.

"What if she never knows?" Rebecca asked. "What would be worse, Michaela?"

"Mother?"

"Michaela," she said with a smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "My dear, sweet Michaela."

"Mother, I'm not…"

"You…you always favored your father. I can't deny it," she said heavily. "I loved you nevertheless." Marjorie sighed heavily, taking her mother's hand and bringing it to her lips, gently pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"I loved you too, Mother." She pressed her mother's hand against her cheek, and her tears spilled upon it. "I always have."

The doors opened quietly, and Michaela saw the pitiful sight of her older sister at her mother's bedside. She tried to speak, but she couldn't make a sound. Her hand gripped Rebecca's and they stepped in silently, afraid of making a sound.

"Mother," Marjorie begged.

"Michaela, you have to know…you have to know how much I love you. You have to know how I only wanted…wanted…what's best." She gasped, fighting for her last breaths. "You have to marry him, Michaela." Michaela and Rebecca's eyes met, and tears fell silently. Michaela stepped forward, but Rebecca's hand squeezed hers, and they realized then that they needed each other's strength to get through this unquestionable moment.

"Mother," Michaela whispered as her voice failed her.

"Marry him," Elizabeth breathed, her gaze shifting from Marjorie to Michaela and Rebecca. A smile brightened her face. "I knew you'd come. I knew it. I…I never stopped. I never will." Her words were running together, but they meant everything. "You have…my blessing, Michaela. Please…forgive me." Michaela finally found the words, and she spoke up.

"I forgive you." Marjorie startled, and she stood, keeping her mother's hand in hers. Michaela and Rebecca slowly moved into the light, and Elizabeth glanced at her three girls.

"So beautiful," she said with a smile. "Just the way…I imagined." Her eyes slowly began to close. Michaela couldn't do this. She couldn't let her leave yet. She took Elizabeth's hand and bent down to her mother's ear, gently whispering her last words to her.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you." She swallowed hard and whispered two final words into her mother's failing ears, and Marjorie knew when Elizabeth's smile widened and her last breath escaped her lips that she was happy in the arms of her beloved.

"Sleep now, Mother," she whispered. "Sleep."

In the instant that Elizabeth was gone, Michaela felt as if she had failed. She couldn't believe it. She had lost her. She had been prepared to lose her, but at the same time, she didn't know how to accept it. She had to let go. She had told her what she'd come to say. She had been terrified of telling her, but in the end, it had been so easy. I'm pregnant. Those two words had brought a smile to her mother's face, and that had meant more than she ever could have imagined. It was everything she'd wanted from her mother, and now she had it. As her mother's life slipped from her body, Michaela felt cursed and blessed at the same time. Now, the only question left was the future.