Chapter 5

Michaela didn't wait until her mother was done with David. Carefully she approached her sister, tentatively touching her arm as to get her attention before she asked, "Do you know where Sully is now?"

Marjorie's mood hadn't improved in the least and thus she replied indignantly, "I thought you were omniscient. He's a man, Michaela! He took off; that's what they always do."

Sighing, Michaela acknowledged that Marjorie wouldn't be a help and decided to first search for Sully in front of the house. Yet there was no sign of him as she stepped out, looking around. Instinctively, her hand went to her jacket pocket. As she, however, pulled out the cell phone in order to see whether he had sent a message, her gaze only met a black screen. Remembering that they turned off their mobiles before the service in the morning, she hastily typed her code as to bring it to life again. Yet neither a text waited for her nor a missed call was reported. As she dialed his number she was informed that no one was available at the moment. Thus she fished in her pocket again, this time for the calling card of the hotel. Yet he wasn't there either.

While her concern slowly turned into frustration, she contemplated what to do. Looking for him would be useless; she had no idea where to even start. It seemed to be the only solution to simply wait for his return. Yet would he come back here? Or rather go to the hotel? What should she tell their daughters?

As if the little girls had heard her thinking of them, their boisterous giggles startled Michaela out of her troubled thoughts.

Turning, she saw them approaching but they didn't simply walk. Obviously, they had made a new friend at the playground who was trying to catch at least one of them, running around Colleen while doing so. Yet every time he came close to one of the girls, the other one distracted him by calling his name so that he changed his direction. Indulgently, Michaela shook her head while her eyes lit up. Silently, she admired Colleen for her tolerance. The young woman only stopped in her tracks now and then as to avoid stumbling over the children, but a soft smile never left her face. However, Michaela was sure that a big part of the reason for Colleen's patience was that her hand was firmly clasped into Dr. Andrew Cook's.

Michaela couldn't help it; the corners of her mouth turned up at this sight. Looking at her feet as to not miss the steps down onto the sidewalk, she started towards the group yet a frantic cry made her head jerk up again.

As if time had jumped ahead, the picture before Michaela's eyes had changed dramatically. The little boy lay curled up on his side on the ground, pulling his knee against his chest with both hands, blood seeping through his fingers. Hannah and Katie stood hand in hand, watching in helpless horror while Colleen, Andrew and a young woman crouched down next to the whimpering child.

"Pete," the woman tried to sooth her son, brushing his hair from his brow, "Mommy is here. I'll take you to doc Quinn, we are right before his house. He'll help you." Looking at Andrew she pleaded, "Could you please carry him; it's right over there."

The young doctor glanced at Colleen, unsure about how to reply yet now Michaela was there as well. She had heard every word and quickly reacted, "I'm Dr. Michaela Quinn and this is Dr. Cook. We will take care of your son."

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As they entered her father's examination room, Michaela felt as if it was six years earlier. Everything was still on its usual place which, of course, made things easier now. Being used to emergencies, she had immediately analyzed the situation. Obviously, the little boy had skidded on some pieces of broken glass from a shattered streetlamp. The thin fabric of his trousers was torn and not only scratches were to be seen but a deep, heavily bleeding cut under his kneecap as well. As to avoid serious blood loss she knew they had to act quickly.

In a calm voice she gave instructions to everyone, already handing Dr. Cook a pair of scissors. "Please remove the trousers," she said before she turned to the child's mother, "If you want to stay, please sit down next to the table. It would be good if you talked to your son. Colleen," she continued without wasting one breath, "Please go to the house phone next to the door to the office over there. Press zero and when someone answers, ask for my mother to come. I need her to take care of my daughters."

"Sure," Colleen instantly ushered the little girls towards the other side of the room. Seeing their distress, she hurried to dial.

For about twenty minutes Michaela and the young couple worked like a well-established team. When they cleaned up afterwards, waiting for the boy's father to come and take his family home, Michaela had the distinct feeling that the solution for her problem was already with her in this room.

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Sully strolled along unknown streets, yet not caring for his surrounding anyway. He had ruined it. Once again he got carried away. It didn't matter that he had been provoked. He simply didn't belong here. However, this wasn't about him but Michaela; she could finally live her dream, working in the rooms that were meant to be hers for ages. Now she actually owned them; he would be selfish if he would ask her to go back home with him. And there was more. Remembering the happy expression on her face when they were on the shore of the ocean, something in his chest tightened. For her this view promised freedom yet he had rather felt lost at the sight of the vast water desert.

But he had promised… and he could do it because worse than the thought of living among those people, in this place where he felt he didn't belong, was the prospect of making Michaela unhappy or, and this was the most horrifying scenario he could think of, losing her.

Since she stepped into his life, everything had changed. For five years, he lived with Hannah like a hermit; they only had each other. He worked at the café, and his daughter went to the kindergarten. Their free time they spent together. It was a simple and quiet life; they both were content with it. And then, one day not even six months ago, Michaela sat before him, ordering a whole-meal muffin and a large coffee. When she glanced up and their eyes locked for this tiny moment, he instantly saw it and knew she felt it, too - the inexplicable bond that pulled them together. But it wasn't only about him, for Hannah life was enriched in a way he had never dreamed of. She had a mother of flesh and blood now and even gained a sister.

So he would do it; he would leave Colorado. He wasn't bound to a certain place in order to write his book. When he wanted to see the mountains, he could visit Cloud Dancing. He had to do this anyway; he couldn't write a diary without living the things he told the readers. And he would keep his place in Colorado Springs; a small house for them to spend holidays arose before his eyes… There was a reasonable solution for the problems he would face living in Boston, everything would work out just fine. But why didn't this knowledge make him feel better?

As his thoughts wandered in circles, his feet simply moved. Yet the longer he walked, the more the pressure on his temples increased. The sunlight began to sting his eyes and he eventually looked up as to find out where he was. To his surprise, he was across from the hotel and without thinking he crossed the street. Not even screeching brakes brought him fully to his senses for now he began to feel sick. When he at last entered the foyer and the receptionist called in his direction that there was a message for him, he didn't react but went straight to the stairs. He couldn't remember ever experiencing a headache like the one that tortured him now, and all he wanted was to lie down, close his eyes and stop thinking.

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"Mom, can we talk?" Michaela knew that she had to tell her mother about her decision as soon as possible even though she hadn't spoken with Dr. Cook yet. She had made up her mind, and if the young man would reject her offer, she would look for someone else to take it. Meeting her mother alone in the hallway gave her the opportunity to have the conversation right now.

Elizabeth looked warily at her youngest. She knew that tone; it meant Michaela wasn't open to persuasion. They had been through this before. Sighing, she nodded but as to stall for time, she started talking about the little girls while she preceded her daughter towards the room that Josef had called his library. "You've brought up Katie and Hannah well, Michaela. I'm sure they are no angels but their good behavior is remarkable."

"Thank you, Mom, but the credit for Hannah goes to Sully." Michaela wanted her mother to acknowledge this truth. "I met her only half a year ago." Gaining no response she tried to keep her tone light, "By the way, what are the children doing?"

"They are drawing pictures for your room." Elizabeth was glad that she didn't have to talk about Mr. Sully yet. Since she had only concentrated on Dr. Lewis as a suitable husband, she couldn't present a new candidate right away.

Only when they sat across from each other in the large wingback chairs, did she continue, "They seem to like this room. We can make it theirs and…"

"Mom," Michaela bent forward, touching her mother's lightly shaking hands she held clasped on her lap for a moment, patiently waiting until their eyes finally met. "I won't move back to Boston."

Although she already knew that it was useless, Elizabeth protested. "But you have to! You agreed to take your father's practice. You can't manage it living in Colorado. Even your Mr. Sully could see that and told you in front of all of us that he will come here with you…" Her voice cracked as she saw the compassion for her in her daughter's eyes.

Michaela nodded, explaining, "Of course he said so; he loves me. But I love him, too, and I know that he is…" She hesitated, searching for the right expression. Finding it at last, her eyes sparkled as she continued, "… a mountain man rather than a sailor. He could never be happy here."

Instantly, Elizabeth's temper rose. "So this is all because of a man again? Haven't you learned yet? And where is your Mr. Sully anyway?"

"I didn't have time to contact him yet," Michaela lied as to avoid discussing his disappearance. But to herself she admitted that his running away began to annoy her. "I will do it as soon as I told you what I'm planning to do.

"First of all," she continued, "I'm doing this only for myself and not for anyone else. This is the lesson life taught me, Mom, to never make important decisions because you want to please other people, fulfill their expectations rather than your own." Seeing that her mother understood, she softened. "I am the assistant medical director of the pediatric ward of the Colorado Community Hospital, and that's exactly the job I want to do. I will rent Dad's practice, this way it will still belong to the family."

"But…" Elizabeth tried to object. Michaela, however, went on, "I might already have found the right doctor… even though that will cost me our best nurse."

"But…" Elizabeth tried again yet her youngest was determined, "I know that you feel uncomfortable with the imagination that you have to share the house with strangers. That is why I thought we could simply close the door to Dad's office for good; all the other rooms are in the extension of the house. This way, no one can disturb your privacy here. What do you think?"

Sinking against the back of her chair, Elizabeth closed her eyes. She was touched that Michaela had kept her welfare in mind when she had made her decision. Yet all she replied was, "I will be all alone here then."

Trying to ignore the rising feeling of guilt Michaela responded, "Rebecca is back in town for good. I'm sure she would love to have your assistance with her new aid project. Maybe she even needs an office… And I will stop by here, too. After all, I will have to look after my practice."

Seeing her mother relax somewhat, she at last straightened, "If you'll excuse me, I have some calls to make."

Not gaining a reply, she left the library anyway, her cellphone already in her hand. Stopping in front of the window in the hallway, she dialed Sully's number only learning that he still wasn't available. With her frustration slowly turning into anger, she pressed the keys again, waiting for the hotel to answer. Yet when the receptionist told her that Mr. Sully hadn't taken her message but looked as if he didn't feel well, her attitude instantly changed. "I'm coming," she responded, worry now audible in her voice.