Chapter 74

February 1871 – Boston

At ten o'clock the next morning, Michaela opened her eyes. She hadn't slept a wink, but she'd had plenty of time to think about how she was going to face her family today. Landon was coming by that afternoon to discuss the details of Elizabeth's case, her surgery, and her death. Now she had to sit through the painful explanation and feel the guilt in her heart for not being there for her mother's final days. She knew she couldn't have done anything that Landon hadn't, because her mother's condition had been very weak after her surgery. Unfortunately, she hadn't been there to hold her hand. She hadn't been there, as Marjorie had said, and she would never let herself forget it.

After returning from the hospital the previous afternoon, Michaela, Rebecca, and Sully had sat the children down and explained what had happened. Johnny had been visibly upset, but he hadn't gotten to know his future step-grandmother very well, and young Mary was trying to be strong, but the loss of her grandmother had had an obvious affect on her sweet little spirit.

Michaela hadn't spoken much to Sully after they'd arrived back at the house, and she'd gone to bed without eating, though he'd brought her something a little later that she'd managed to nibble on for the baby's sake. Otherwise, she wanted to curl up under the covers and sleep for a week. But, she knew she needed to get up and face the day just like everyone else. She needed her family today.

The entire household was obviously upset, and Michaela wondered if any of her sisters had stopped by yet. She knew the only way to find out would be to get up and find out for herself. So, she slipped out of bed and out of her gown, standing nude before the mirror, placing her hands on her belly. She saw a slight roundness beginning to develop to her once flat abdomen, and she smiled a little, gently caressing the flesh that protected her child—a sign that life went on—and she closed her eyes, feeling peace for a moment. But when the sound of life from downstairs startled her, she decided that there was no use stalling any longer.

With a sigh, she moved to grab her clothes and her robe. She wanted a bath before beginning the day. But, when she moved to turn around, the door opened, and she gasped, quickly covering herself with the armful of garments. She was relieved and embarrassed to see Sully there, and he quickly shut himself inside when he saw her predicament.

"Sully!" she hissed, her voice a bit hoarse.

"I…I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't know if you were up. I just came up to wake ya, and…" Michaela sighed heavily.

"I was just going to take a bath, and…" Sully smiled a little.

"You're just in time. I drew one already."

"Well, you can go first," she said quietly, as each garment began to fall to her feet in a puddle of lace and silk. Sully couldn't help but admire her body, and he knew he shouldn't be thinking these things at this time, but it was beyond his control.

"No. No, I mean, I drew one for ya. I figured after that train trip you'd be wantin' one. Water's nice and warm. 'Sides, I already had mine last night." Michaela smiled thankfully.

"Thank you, Sully." She moved to pick up her robe, but Sully was already across the room and picking it up for her. They straightened up, and their eyes met. Michaela's sad eyes turned down, as Sully helped her slip into it.

"Rebecca and the kids are down in the parlor with Harrison and Martha. Want me to tell 'em you'll be down soon?" She nodded gently.

"Yes. Thank you." Sully started to turn away, but this time, Michaela reached out for him. He turned again, and he pulled his arms around her waist. "Thank you for everything. Yesterday was…one of the hardest days of my life. Having you there…it meant a lot, Sully." He nodded sadly.

"Ya lost your ma, Michaela. I know that ain't easy, and I promise ya ain't gonna have to grieve alone. That ain't no way to live." Michaela nodded, and she sighed, as he drew her in for a hug. Feeling his arms safe and secure around her made her want to melt against his chest and forget about everything that had just happened. When she was with him, she felt no pain, she felt no misery. All she felt was love and pleasure, and what was so wrong with that?

She closed her eyes, as his hands soothingly massaged her back. Her hands moved around his back and then up to his broad shoulders, squeezing them firmly, before she pressed a kiss to his chest through the fabric of his off white shirt. Sully felt her breath hit him, and he trembled, pulling her closer.

"Michaela?" he asked. But she didn't respond in words. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, and he saw so much there. He saw need, he saw desire, he saw pain, he saw the need to forget. He wanted to help her with that, but he also knew the possible consequences of that. But, before he could speak, Michaela's hands had moved to his belt, and her lips were pressing a line of kisses up his neck and toward his ear. "Michaela? What…what're ya doin'?" Her arms secured around his neck, and he felt her tongue dart out, and his flesh was so hot he practically heard a sizzle, as his heart began to pound.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to pull her away, but her lips found his mouth, and his thoughts were lost. She stood on her tiptoes, putting all of herself into that kiss, and a moment later, she was stumbling forward, and he was catching her, pulling her up into his arms and deepening the kiss.

As he lay her down on the bed, looking down into those deep pools of olive and hazel, he crawled over her, letting the robe slip open and pressing kisses from her stomach to her lips, lingering at each spot, tasting her flesh and reveling in the sound of her soft moans and the feel of her hands in his hair.

"Sully," she breathed, before his lips devoured hers in an urgent kiss, and she arched her back, pressing her body into his for a moment. There was no denying that he wanted this too, and she reached for his belt again, but before she had the chance, he took her hands in his and lifted her arms above her head, holding them there, as she squirmed under him.

He pulled back again, seeing the desire clouding her eyes, but at the same time, he remembered the pain that had been there just a few minutes ago. He knew what she was doing, and he didn't want her risking her health or their child's because of this pain. He wanted to take it away, but the better part of him told him they had to wait until she'd seen a doctor and was properly examined. So, with all the strength he could muster, he pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her.

"Sully?" she asked, breathless, as she sat up, trying to wrap her arms around him. But he pulled away. Stunned, she stood and wrapped her robe tightly around her body. "What…what was that about?" Sully shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, taking several moments to gather his thoughts and regain his own breath.

"This ain't right." Slightly hurt, Michaela stepped toward him.

"You're just now saying this? After everything…"

"Ya know what I mean, Michaela. It ain't time yet, and you're…you're hurtin'. I know how bad ya wanna forget. I been there too, but this ain't gonna make things better." He turned toward her, and he saw her look down, placing her hand against her stomach. "I want ya to go see a doctor."

"I will, Sully. I will. I just have so much to…to take care of right now."

"The first bein' yourself and our baby," Sully said sternly. Michaela glared up at him.

"Do you think I don't realize that? Do you think…"

"I don't think you're thinkin' clear right now. I think ya need to go get in that washroom, take your bath, and relax, 'cause right now, we're two seconds away from doin' somethin' that might hurt you or our baby." Michaela stepped back a little, feeling terrible and slightly rejected at the same time. While she knew that he was only doing what was right for all of them, she still needed him to hold her, to kiss her, to make her feel as if her entire world wasn't falling in around her.

Slowly, she turned around, and she took a deep breath. She felt his hand on her back a moment later, and she pulled away.

"Michaela?"

"I need to be alone right now. Will you please go check on the children?"

"They're fine. I need to know that you're ok." Michaela turned toward him.

"I am fine."

"I don't believe that."

"Well, what do you expect from me? What, Sully? I can't put on a smile and say everything's alright, because it isn't! I have a lot on my mind, and I just want to forget for a little while. I just want to have a little peace." Sully swallowed hard and reached for her, and thought she didn't shy away this time, she shook her head. "Please tell everyone I'll be down shortly." With that, she brushed past him and gathered her clothes up before leaving to have her morning bath.

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Reverend Dalton," Timothy said with a sigh, as he shook his head, and they stepped out onto the porch of the church, several townspeople eyeing them as they passed by.

"It was no problem. While my church is being rebuilt, my congregation has gone to the next town for services, so I'll be glad to be back in the pulpit again. Timothy smiled. "How long will you be gone?"

"A few weeks. A month at the most, I'd expect," he said with a nod. "I really appreciate this. I wouldn't have called for you if it wasn't important, and if I can trust anyone with the spiritual well-being of this town, it's you." The other man patted him on the back.

"Anything for a friend," Reverend Dalton replied. "I only hope your congregation will learn to trust me while I'm here."

"I informed them all this morning at a meetin', and I think they'll learn to adapt." He nodded. "I best be goin'. I got a train to catch, but send a telegram if you need anything."

"And your location?" Timothy swallowed hard and looked down at the telegram in his hand.

"Boston."

"Liddie?" Hank asked, opening the door to her room, seeing her sprawled out across her bed. "Get up now. Ya got customers waitin'."

"I…I'm feelin' awful poorly, Hank," she said quietly.

"Will ya quit with that? Sick don't pay the bills."

"I ain't kiddin', Hank!" she insisted, as he moved closer to her bed. He saw that she was sweating with fever, and she was pale. That wasn't something easily faked.

"Ya really are sick," he said with concern coating his voice. "Liddie, what is it?"

"If I knew, I'd be a doctor, wouldn't I?" she asked, managing a little sarcasm despite her weakened state. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

"Well, c'mon. Let's get ya to the doc."

"I…I just need to sleep," she whispered.

"No. Ya gotta get to the doc. I don't want ya makin' the rest of the girls sick." He helped her to stand, but before she could take a step, she went limp, and he acted quickly to scoop her up in his arms. "Liddie! Liddie, wake up!" When she didn't respond, he rushed out of her room and burst out of the saloon, rushing across the street to the clinic. He banked on the door with his foot. "Hey, Doc! Doc, ya gotta open up!" A moment later, Dr. Cassidy opened the door, and before he could respond, Hank brushed past him and placed Liddie on the table.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Doc Cassidy asked.

"She passed out. Said she's been feelin' poorly," Hank stammered, watching his favorite girl lie lifeless on the table. When Doc Cassidy didn't make a move, he spat, "what the hell are ya doin'? Ya gotta help her!"

"She isn't welcome here." Hank strode up to Doc Cassidy.

"What're ya sayin'? Just 'cause she's…"

"I don't treat Negroes, I don't treat Indians, and I don't treat whores." Hank slowly scooped her up and held her close, feeling her shivering in his arms.

"So you're just gonna let her be like this?" Hank asked, his eyes full of fury.

"I'm sure it's just one of those female problems. You know how emotional women can get. Just put her to bed, and she'll be over it in no time." Hank gaped at the doctor who had brushed Liddie's condition off as if it was normal. He'd never seen her like this before, and he didn't know how to help her.

"I guess I'll just have to take her to Soda Springs then," Hank bellowed. Doc Cassidy shook his head.

"Nobody with good sense would treat a whore, Hank. I can see that having a female doctor around has made the men of this town no better than a bunch of women." Hank looked down at Liddie who lay limp in his arms, and he swallowed hard.

"Yeah, but at least she'd have treated my girl." With that, he stormed out the door and back over to the saloon.

Carrie finished dusting off the last shelf and she eyed Miss Olive, who was wrapping up a new canteen for Mr. Emmil. She sighed, still thinking about that piece of paper she'd found the other day. Of course, she hadn't read the rest of it, but when curiosity had gotten the best of her earlier that day, it hadn't been where she'd let it fall. She figured that Olive had found it, and perhaps that was for the best. After all, it was Olive's private document, but Carrie still didn't understand why she was special enough to be written about by that woman.

"All done, Miss Olive," Carrie said tiredly, hopping down off of the ladder. Olive smiled toward her and nodded.

"Thanks, Carrie. We got a new shipment of candy in. You think you could fill the jars? I wanna take some candy out to Brian Cooper later today." Carrie nodded.

"Sure," she replied, going to fetch what she needed. Olive watched her, and after Mr. Emmil left, she slowly un-tucked her locket from her shirt and opened it up, smiling at the picture inside. She closed her eyes, holding the locket tightly in her hands, as it dangled on the chain around her neck. She frowned, hearing Carrie moving around in the back of the store, and she quickly tucked the locket back in. Swallowing hard, she moved to check the books, making sure the money was all accounted for.

"I checked on my pa this morning," Carrie called out, as she stepped into the front with the candy supplies.

"Oh?" Olive asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"Yeah. He thinks he's healed already, and he's insistin' on getting out of town. I told him he's an old fool and threatened to lock him in his room." Olive laughed at that one, and she and Carrie shared a grin.

"He's always been…" Olive began, but she caught herself. Carrie looked over at her. "He seems like he's always been that way." Carrie nodded.

"Yeah. Pa's always been restless. I think that's why he started drivin' cattle. He's never in the same spot for too long, and he's got somethin' to do all the time."

"Yeah. Sometimes doin' the same thing over and over again can get kinda old," Olive admitted, a hint of jealousy in her voice. "Cattle drivin' does give ya a lot to do."

"Sounds like you and my pa have a lot in common." Olive didn't speak. "I think he's sweet on you." Olive looked up briskly.

"That's the most foolish idea I ever heard." She shook her head. "Where'd ya ever get an idea like that?" Carrie took a few steps toward the counter.

"'Cause I've seen him look at ya the way Daniel looks at me. I've seen you look the same way at him. Why don't ya just admit it, Miss Olive? You're sweet on him too!" Olive's cheeks reddened, and she shook her head.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about. Honestly, Carrie. Ya ought to spend more time thinkin' 'bout things that ain't made up." Carrie made a face, but she giggled a little, as she went back to stocking the candy jars. She knew the truth. She knew Olive knew it. Getting her to admit it was something else entirely.

February 1871 – Boston

She finished putting up her hair, and she looked in the mirror. Her eyes were still sad, and she had tried hard to cover up the rose tint on her cheeks that had resulted from hours of crying. Now, her breathing was steady, and even though she felt on the verge of tears again, she was certain she was all cried out for now.

She took a deep breath, thinking about everything that had happened. She thought back to Cloud Dancing's warning as well. If they married before the time was right, they'd live a life of shame. Their wedding day would be a day of great sadness, but out of it would come pure joy.

Michaela closed her eyes. Now she knew. The sadness would be because of her mother's absence. She'd wanted her mother now, and now…now she would never get that wish. She would be married with her mother's blessing but without her presence, and the thought of that broke her heart.

With a weary sigh, she stood and decided that she looked fine. She didn't care about looking stunning, and that thought made her laugh a little, because she was certain that her mother was looking down at her and shaking her head, wanting her daughter to look perfect even on the worst of days.

Hearing a knock at her door, Michaela turned, wondering if it was Sully.

"Come in," she called. The door opened, and Michaela looked down to see the face that greeted her. "Johnny?"

"Hi, Dr. Mike," he said cautiously. "You ok?" She gave him a little smile.

"Come in," she said, motioning him in. He did so and closed the door.

"Everybody's real sad this mornin'," he said quietly. "Like I get when I think about my ma and sister's…and Grandma and Grandpa." Michaela's lower lip quivered, and she moved toward him, gently putting her hand on his shoulder.

"That's natural, Johnny." She knelt down to be level with him. "It's normal to miss the people we love. It's normal to get sad once in a while a long time after we've lost them." She gently touched his cheek.

"Do you…do you think that your ma and my ma are both in heaven?" Michaela smiled a little.

"I think so…very much," she whispered. "I bet…they're both looking down at us right now. I bet they're…talking about how much they love us." Johnny smiled a little.

"You really think so?" Michaela let out a quick breath and smiled again.

"Yes I do," she breathed. "Just because they're gone doesn't mean they've stopped loving us. We still feel that love…right here." She pointed to Johnny's heart, and he placed his hand there.

"You think Pa…would be mad?"

"That you're missing your mother?" Michaela wondered. Johnny nodded. Michaela took Johnny's hand and led him over to the bed. They both sat down on the end. "Your father knows you miss your mother. He doesn't expect any different, sweetheart. He misses them too."

"But he's got you now." Looking down, Michaela nodded.

"It isn't that simple." She took his hand in hers. "Your father still misses your mother, Johnny. I'm certain that he still loves her and won't ever stop." Johnny nodded.

"None of us still got ma's. Pa don't. I don't. Now you." He watched Michaela flinch. "I'm sorry, Dr. Mike. I didn't mean…well, I just…"

"It's alright," she said quietly. "I suppose you're right. But, just because our mothers are gone doesn't mean we stop thinking about them…stop loving them."

"I wish I still had a ma," Johnny said gently. Michaela's heart jumped into her throat, when Johnny's eyes met hers. "Do you think…"

"Yes?"

"Well, do you think it'd be ok if..." He paused.

"Johnny?"

"Swear you won't get mad?" Michaela smiled.

"Cross my heart. You can ask me anything, Johnny." Johnny shifted nervously. "Go on."

"Well, I talked to Pa this mornin', and he said…if it's ok with you…"

"Yes?" Johnny took a deep breath.

"I know you and Pa ain't married yet, but…would it be alright if…if I called you 'Ma' now?" Feeling her heart swell now, Michaela smiled and brushed away the tears that formed in her eyes. Johnny bit his lip nervously, and Michaela pulled him into a hug, feeling him relax and hug her back.

"Oh, it'd be more than alright," Michaela whispered. "I can't think of anything I'd like more." She kissed the top of his head, and he looked up at her smiling.

"Good." He stood up. "You comin' downstairs?" Michaela nodded, taking a deep breath, and she stood up, taking his hand.

"I'm right behind you."