Chapter 75

February 1871 – Boston

Sully turned from the mantle in the parlor, when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. His face lit up, when he saw Michaela and Johnny coming downstairs hand-in-hand, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"There ya are. I was startin' to think maybe ya got so comfortable in that bath that ya fell asleep," Sully said with a smile, hoping that Michaela wasn't still upset with him. When they'd parted earlier, she hadn't been very thrilled with him for pushing her away or trying to convince her to go right to the doctor.

"No. I…I feel much better now," she said with a reassuring smile, letting him know that all was well. Johnny let go of Michaela's hand and hurried over to sit in front of the hearth with Mary. Sully moved to Michaela and took her hand in his, giving it a soft kiss.

"Ya sure?" She nodded.

"Yes. I'm sorry we quarreled earlier, Sully."

"Nothin' to apologize for, but for what it's worth, so am I." He pulled her into a hug, and Rebecca walked into the room, her eyes tired, as a smile formed on her lips.

"Michaela…you're awake," she said happily.

"Good morning, Rebecca."

"How are you feeling, dear?"

"Better," she said quietly. "You? How did you sleep?" Rebecca shook her head.

"I read Mother a story last night," Mary said sadly. "I read her one that Grandma used to read to me." Rebecca took a deep breath, still struggling with the news.

"Michaela, may I have a word with you in the hall, please?" Michaela nodded.

"Certainly." She gave Sully a reassuring squeeze to his hand before following her older sister out into the hall, closing the parlor doors behind them.

"How did you sleep last night?" Rebecca asked softly. "Honestly?" Michaela shook her head.

"Honestly? I didn't."

"Neither did I," she admitted. "Every time I attempted to doze off, I had this overwhelming sensation that I needed to get to Mother. When I'd open my eyes, I would…realize where I was…what had happened." Michaela nodded her head.

"I simply couldn't even attempt to fall asleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her lying there, and I felt so guilty for not being there to help her."

"It wasn't your fault, Michaela. We got there as quickly as we could." Michaela nodded.

"I know. I just can't help but think that if I had already been here, I might have been able to do something…"

"Dr. Webber informed me that he did the best he could, and I'm sure you'll think the same thing after he speaks with you today." Michaela nodded.

"I suppose so," she said softly. Rebecca gently touched her shoulder.

"How are you feeling, Michaela?"

"I'm…I'm fine," she said with a nod.

"You know what I mean. You know Dr. Bernard wants you to see a doctor immediately."

"Yes," she said quietly. "I'm just..."

"Afraid?" Michaela looked down.

"I'm terrified." Rebecca hugged her little sister and sighed softly.

"Everything will be fine."

"You sound like Sully," Michaela said, wiping her nose on a handkerchief. "He keeps assuring me that everything will be fine, but he isn't the one that's pregnant. He doesn't realize how…how terrifying it is to carry a life inside…a very fragile life." Rebecca smiled, pulling out of the hug.

"When I was expecting Mary, I felt the same way as you, Michaela."

"But you didn't nearly lose your baby…"

"No, but…you haven't had any complications lately, and you seem to be…glowing." Rebecca's eyes turned to the slight bump that protruded from Michaela's dress, and she smiled, seeing that Michaela had gotten rid of her corset.

"If you mean I'm already starting to show…that doesn't mean anything…something still could have…"

"Yes it does, Michaela. It means that you're still taking care of yourself and this baby, and that's what matters first and foremost." Her smile turned into a stern frown. "Now, you have to promise me that you'll go see a doctor today. Let Landon examine you."

"Landon!" Michaela asked.

"He's a trusted friend, Michaela. You've known him since we were children. You know he'd never judge you, and you'd be receiving some of the best care there is." Michaela sighed heavily.

"I suppose you're right. I just hope that Sully…"

"Sully understands that Landon is happily married. He also understands who your heart belongs to." Michaela nodded her head.

"Yes. He does." She took a deep breath, and when she heard a knock at the front door, she held her breath.

"Oh, come in, Dr. Webber," Harrison said with a pleasant but somber tone. Michaela and Rebecca shared once last glance before going to greet their guest.

February 1871 – Soda Springs

"We been ridin' all night. I ain't slept. She's getting worse. Ya gotta tell me what's wrong with her, Doc." Hank paced the examining room nervously, as Dr. Edwards examined his second patient from Colorado Springs that week.

"Just a moment," the doctor replied. "Miss, could you open your mouth? I need to examine your throat." Liddie fitfully shook her head, but Hank took her hand, showing concern only in the privacy of a stranger's office and in front of the woman who knew him better than most.

"It's alright, Liddie. He's gonna make you all better."

"No," she said softly. "I'm fine."

"Ya ain't fine, Liddie. You're getting worse, and ya need help." Tearfully, Liddie opened her mouth, and Dr. Edwards examined her throat. A moment later, he pulled back anxiously.

"My God," he breathed.

"What?" Hank demanded. "What's wrong with her?" The doctor turned toward him.

"Has she had contact with anyone in the past twenty four hours?"

"Well, just me, a couple of the other girls, and…" Hank felt Liddie's hand trembling. "Why? What's wrong with her?"

"You had better send word to your town. Tell them to prepare for a possible epidemic. This woman has Diphtheria." Hank had heard of this disease before. He also knew that many folks who got it didn't survive.

"Can ya save her?" he asked immediately. Dr. Edwards swallowed hard.

"I can try. Unfortunately, her case is rather advanced. There are a few procedures that aren't completely agreed upon by the American Medical Society, but…"

"Do it. Whatever ya gotta do, just don't let her die." Dr. Edwards nodded.

"I'll do my best, sir. But…why didn't you get her medical care before now? Perhaps her chances would have been greater had she been treated…"

"I tried, alright?" he snapped. "The doc in my town turned her away. Said he don't treat whores." Dr. Edwards shook his head.

"Fortunately, Mr. Lawson, I won't turn any patient away."

February 1871 – Boston

"Thank you for everything, Landon," Michaela said quietly, as they sat in the parlor. Sully, Rebecca, and Michaela had just heard everything about Elizabeth's case from Landon, and now all four of them were seated around the parlor, finishing up their conversation.

"I did everything I could." He looked around. "I was expecting your other sisters to be here as well. I informed them all…"

"That's alright, Dr. Webber," Rebecca said quietly. "My sisters will be along soon enough, and I'm certain they appreciate your services just as we do." She put her cup of tea down and looked at Michaela, silently urging her to ask Dr. Webber to examine her.

"Your mother was a lovely woman, albeit stubborn, but I'm certain that was one of her finest qualities." Michaela smiled a little.

"Yes. Mother…Mother was one of a kind." She looked down into her hands that were folded in her lap.

"Well, I should be going. I have a few charts to update at my office. If you have any questions, feel free to stop by." Michaela nodded.

"Thank you," she repeated. "We certainly appreciate everything you've done." Michaela stood. "I'll show you out." She looked at Sully, and he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, and he could see her reservations.

As Michaela and Landon made it into the hallway, Sully got up to follow. But, Johnny and Mary came running in.

"Pa? Can we go for a walk?" he asked. "I'm getting tired of playin' in my room."

"Ah, we'll go in a little bit, son. Could you wait here for a minute?" Johnny nodded, and Sully stepped out of the parlor, seeing Michaela and Landon disappearing into the front hall, making their way into the foyer.

"Michaela, is there something on your mind?" Landon asked quietly, glancing at his friend who had turned silent the moment they had been alone together.

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear a word I just said?"

"Oh," she blushed. "I'm sorry, Landon." Landon stopped and turned toward her.

"Michaela, I know that you've just been through a terrible loss. Perhaps you should rest for a few days." She shook her head insistently.

"I can't. There's so much to do. Mother's funeral to plan…"

"You can do that from the comfort of your own bed. You know the Quinn family is very well known. Your mother's lawyers would bend over backwards to make this family happy, even if that means cooperating with you while you're resting." Michaela shook her head.

"I'm fine." Landon shook his head.

"Michaela, I've known you since we were hiding in your father's office together as children. I know when you're lying, you know. Now, talk to me as a friend. Not as a doctor." Michaela swallowed hard.

"I can't do that, Landon. Not in this case." Landon furrowed his brows.

"What do you mean? Are you ill?" Michaela shook her head.

"No. No, it's not that," she pointed out. "I'm…" She looked over, seeing Sully coming down the hallway. Her heart skipped a beat, and she noticed him glance between her and Landon. "Sully!"

"Everything alright?"

"Yes. Yes, I was just…talking to Landon about…" The look in her eyes gave him enough information, and he nodded.

"I can wait," Sully offered, knowing that sometimes she needed to do these things on her own. It seemed as if now that they were together, they barely had a moment apart. While they weren't complaining, he knew that some things were best dealt with alone. He only wanted to give her that option. But, the look in her eyes told him differently.

"No. No, you should be here too," she pointed out. Sully's arm moved securely around Michaela's waist, and Landon looked from him to her.

"What's going on? Michaela?"

"Landon," she began, her hands beginning to perspire. "We've been friends for a very long time. You know you can trust me, right?" Landon furrowed his brows.

"Of course," he pointed out.

"And I trust that…the same…"

"If you're asking if you can trust me, Michaela, of course you can. Whatever you have to say to me will stay between us…whether or not it's between a doctor and a patient or just between friends." Michaela looked at Sully, and he slowly nodded.

"If you trust him, I trust him," he said with an encouraging smile. She nodded and turned her gaze back to Landon.

"I need to ask something of you," Landon."

"Anything, Michaela. What is it?" Taking a deep breath, she faced her fears and braced herself for whatever reaction she might receive.

"For the past few weeks, I've been seeing a doctor. Dr. William Bernard." Landon's eyes flickered in recognition.

"Ah, yes. Dr. Bernard. He's a good doctor. I've met him at several conventions. He's…" His eyes widened in recognition. "He specializes in women's medicine, doesn't he? More specifically…obstetrics?" Michaela nodded, oblivious that she had just tightened her hold on Sully.

"That's right," Sully said with a nod. "And he's been a real good doctor." Michaela nodded.

"Michaela? Are you saying? Well, I suppose that wouldn't be…well, I…"

"I'm pregnant," Michaela finally blurted out. "Nearly eight weeks, I think." Landon's jaw dropped a little, as did his eyes to glance at her belly. She had expected it, actually, because everyone who knew had reacted that way at first. Landon's eyes next met Sully's, and Sully's arm tightened around Michaela.

"Congratulations," he said slowly, not sure of what else to say. Michaela nodded gratefully.

"There have been complications, and Dr. Bernard has ordered me to rest, though he gave me the go-ahead to come to Boston." Landon nodded.

"That sounds like good advice." Michaela and Sully glanced at one another again.

"Well, what I was wondering, Landon…was if you…you might examine me. Dr. Bernard asked me to seek medical attention as soon as I arrived, and you're the only doctor around that I know I can trust completely." Landon shifted uncomfortably.

"You…you want me to examine you?" Michaela nervously nodded.

"I wouldn't have asked you, Landon, if I didn't know that you were an excellent physician. You…you care about who people are and about helping them." Landon swallowed hard, and he looked to Sully.

"If that's what you want." Sully looked at Michaela.

"It's what we both want," he replied. "I just want to know that she's alright. She trusts ya, and if anybody's a good judge of what a good doctor is, it's Michaela." Landon nodded.

"Alright. We'll, I'm honored." Michaela's eyes brightened.

"So you'll do it?" Landon nodded.

"I have time now if you'd like to come by my office." Michaela nodded.

"Yes. That would be fine. Thank you, Landon."

February 1871 – Colorado Springs

"What's it say?" Jake demanded, as a crowed gathered at the depot. Horace had just received an urgent telegram from Soda Springs that had sparked rumors all over

"What happened?" Kid Cole asked, as he and Ruth made their way through the crowd.

"It's from Hank," Horace replied. "He's in Soda Springs with Liddie. Says that the doc there says she has somethin' called…Diphtheria." A few gasps came from the crowed.

"What the hell's that?" Jake asked.

"Don't say," Horace replied flatly. "But it says that it's catchin'." Everyone looked around at one another.

"I know what it is," Ruth pointed out. She shook her head. "An aunt of mine got it when I was just a baby. My ma said she…she got a fever and got to where she couldn't breathe. She also said it's real hard to cure, and most folks die from it." She looked down. "My aunt died from it." A few gasps rose up from the crowd again, before Doc Cassidy spoke up.

"Everybody just calm down. As the doctor, I'm suggesting that all businesses shut down, and anybody who begins to feel so much as a tickle in their throat come see me." Grace glanced up with Olivia held close to her chest. She shook her head, knowing that they were beyond help if they were to become sick.

As the crowed began to disperse, she and Robert E. walked back to their home with their child in tow, hoping that they wouldn't have to deal with this terrible illness, because they would have to deal with it alone.

"What're you doin' here?" Olive demanded, as Carrie walked back into the mercantile. Carrie gave her a strange look.

"Comin' back to help you close down the shop."

"Ya heard Horace. I think ya better go on home and…"

"I can help," she insisted.

"No. You best go home and stay there 'til this is all over." Carrie eyed Olive.

"It'll only take a few minutes. Then I'm gonna go see Pa. I figured I can stay there so he don't have to be all alone."

"But that's the clinic." Carrie placed her hands on her hips.

"So?"

"If folks are sick, you'd be there too, and what if you catch it?" Carrie sighed heavily.

"Well, don't worry 'bout me. I've been around worse on the cattle drive." Olive marched around the counter and stood in front of Carrie.

"Do ya want me to fire ya?" Surprised, Carrie stepped back a bit, eyeing the older woman.

"What's wrong with you, Olive? All I want is to help, and…"

"You can help me by goin' home and stayin' safe."

"Relax, Olive! I'll be fine!"

"Ya can't say that, when ya don't know for sure, Carrie. Now promise me you'll stay away from the clinic 'til this is all over."

"I gotta check on Pa…"

"I'll check on him. You promise." Carrie sighed with exasperation.

'Why is this so important to you?"

"Why?" Olive asked, her heart pounding. Because she didn't want to see her daughter suffer and die from such a terrible, suffocating illness. She'd seen it happen to a cowhand of hers once, and she never wanted to see anything like that again. "Because nobody deserves to suffer like that, Carrie. Nobody. Now promise me you'll go straight home and stay there 'til this is over." Carrie sighed heavily, and she nodded her head.

"Fine. I'm goin'." She turned toward the door, and Olive called back to her.

"I appreciate you wantin' to help though…I…"

"It's fine. Thanks for carin'," Carrie replied, heading out the doors and heading across the already deserted-looking town, wondering why Olive had reacted the way she had.

February 1871 – Boston

Sitting in her empty home, Marjorie closed her mother's journal. She'd read the last page, and it seemed that even in the end, she'd written it to put only two of her children's minds at ease. She had accepted that she wasn't one of the favored children, but what hurt the most was that she had been there at the end—when it had counted—and Michaela and Rebecca had only gotten there at the very last minute.

She closed her eyes and flipped the book open to the dedication.

For my girls. It's time you knew the kind of woman your mother truly was.

Marjorie shook her head. She knew her mother wanted all of the children to read it, but now, reading this, she felt closer to her mother than she ever had before. She had that bond. She was the one who knew. She was the privileged one now. What would happen when Michaela and Rebecca found out? What would happen when she lost the last part of her mother that was hers and hers alone?

She glanced at the hearth and pictured herself throwing it into the flames, but she knew her mother would never forgive her. God, she couldn't win. She knew that someday, she would have to accept the fact that it was over. She couldn't try to win her mother's approval anymore. She couldn't try to be the best anymore. She'd tried that all along, and all she had now was this book in this empty house.

A knock at the door sent Marjorie quickly to her feet. Without her husband's income, she had been forced to fire the help. She'd been doing just fine when she'd been at her mother's; taking care of her, but with only a small amount of her own money left, she had to save every penny. So, she moved herself into the foyer to answer the door herself.

Putting on a smile, she opened the door, and she was faced by Claudette and Maureen.

"Marjorie," Claudette said sadly.

"Oh, you poor dear," Maureen continued. Marjorie stepped aside.

"Come in," she said shortly.

"Oh, we simply can't stay. We just wanted to come by and see how you were doing. It must have been awful to sit there and watch her…"

"Die?" Marjorie asked bluntly. "I did see her die. I saw every moment. I heard her calling for Michaela and Rebecca. I think she was looking for the both of you too. Where were you?" Maureen and Claudette looked at one another guiltily.

"You know how it is, Marjorie, dear. It was difficult to get away from our families." Hearing that felt like a slap in the face to Marjorie, and she took a deep breath.

"It must have been very difficult for you. You had to stay with the support of your husband and children, while mother died, wishing for her children to be there."

"You aren't actually blaming us, are you?" Claudette asked, wide-eyed.

"Of course not! No, you practically had no part of the rest of your family after you got married and moved out. Why should you have to be there to say goodbye?" With that, Marjorie slammed the door and leaned her back against it, sobbing into her hands and sinking down to the floor with her mother's book pressed tightly against her chest. Then she realized that she was sitting on the floor, sobbing like a child. No. Marjorie Quinn didn't do such things. She was better than that.

Slowly, she picked herself up from the floor and took her mother's book back into her arms. She closed her eyes, thinking about all of her options, and a moment later, she made a decision. Swallowing hard and pulling her coat of the closet, she held the book firmly against her chest and headed out to face her mother's past.