TO: DR JOSEF QUINN MD

BEACON HILL

BOSTON MASSACHUSETTS

FATHER STOP REQUEST ANY ADVICE OR REFERENCES OR BOOKS ON CARE AND RAISING OF BLIND CHILD STOP INSTITUIONALIZATION NOT DESIRED AND TOO YOUNG FOR SCHOOL STOP THANK YOU STOP LOVE MIKE STOP

Michaela stood at the counter watching as Horace finished sending off the telegram to her father. She hoped that he would have some ideas, know of some books that told, or knew someone who might knowhow to take care of a blind child.

The friendly telegraph operator looked up at her with a smile when he finished. "I'll let ya know when I get a response, Dr. Mike."

Michaela gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Horace. If I'm not in town, would you mind giving it to Charlotte to pass on to me?"

"'Course Dr. Mike."

"Thank you Horace." She stepped out of the building and onto the porch. She looked up and down the street; she stuck her hands in the pockets of her long, tan colored coat she was wearing. She turned in the direction of the mercantile and headed toward it.

As she moved along the street for the first time she consciously realized how accustomed she had become to the flow of everything around here as she easily dodged and wove her way around, almost as well as if she had been born there; she compared it to how she was when she first arrived, constantly almost being run over by horses or wagons and people. The pace was in some ways slower than Boston; in others faster and as a whole totally and utterly as different from the city where she was born as it was probably possible to be. But, as Michaela easily sidestepped a group of men on horseback galloping toward the saloon, she realized that she was truly comfortable here, and even with the loss of Abigail and Sully leavingshe was probably happier than she had been in many years.

She stepped inside the dimmer interior of the store, pausing a moment just inside the doorway to allow her eyes a moment to adjust; then continued to the counter.

Mr. Bray wasn't in sight at the moment, but Maude had been sweeping some over by some shelves and moved behind the counter, giving Michaela a smile.

Michaela raised a worried eyebrow, opening her mouth, but Maude raised a hand in a gesture to ask her to allow the older woman to explain. "I am takin; it easier, but I can't stop workin'completely, it just ain't in me. But I do leave the harder work to Loren for now."

Michaela sighed, but gave an accepting nod, knowing that the older woman was right. It wasn't in her nature; she took a deep breath getting down to what she had come about. "I was wondering if the bottles and cloth I had ordered had come in."

Maude nodded and reached under the counter drawing out a box that held a few baby bottles and two bolts of two different types of cloth; one for bandages and the other for Hanna's diapers. "Here they are."

Michaela gave her a grateful smile. "Wonderful."

"I'll put it on your account."

"Thank you, Maude." She picked up the box preparing to leave.

"What's this I hear-tell 'bout Hanna bein' blind?"

Michaela sighed raising her eyes skyward and, taking a page from Rev. Johnson's book, praying to God for patience; she turned around to face Loren Bray. "I noticed something wrong with Hanna's eyes yesterday and I examined them. It is extremely likely she is blind, but I can't be sure until she is a bit older; it is hard to tell with ones as young as Hanna."

Loren scowled. "What're ya gonna do with her?"

Michaela drew in a deep breath. "I'm going to keep my promise to Abigail and Sully and take care of her and love her."

Loren tried to cover his surprise. "You ain't gonna send her away?"

"No," Michaela told him firmly. "I would never send anyone to an institution, the conditions are appalling. Right now she is too young to go to a school for the blind; most of those schools are very far away and I wouldn't send her to one without Sully's permission," she ignored the snort Loren gave, "and besides, I think she should have a say in whether or not she goes. So, regardless, Hanna isn't going anywhere for several years at least. "

Loren shuffled his feet a bit. "Well, it can't be easy takin' care o' a blind kid."

Michaela shrugged. "There probably are some differences between caring for seeing children and blind children, but they are still children and they need love, which I am going to give Hanna." Michaela then turned on her heel and left.

Loren stared after her almost dumbfounded, obviously unsure what to think of the woman who had just left.

Maude was trying to look busy, moving things around the counter a bit; all the while trying to hide the smile that wanted to creep across her face.

8

Michaela was cleaning up from supper which actually had been provided for her by Charlotte with an excellent apple pie baked for her by Colleen for dessert.

Hanna was asleep at the moment, but would be waking up soon wanting to be fed her dinner.

There was a knock at the door.

Well, not really a knock, it was more like someone was slapping their hand against it.

Michaela frowned; she moved over to the window to glance out and her mouth dropped open at what – or more appropriately whom – she saw; she immediately opened the door. "Mrs. Jennings!"

The redheaded woman looked ready to fall over, swaying on her feet and clinging to the doorway with one hand. "You –" she broke off having to close her eyes and take a steadying breath. "You said that you could – maybe help me with – some of my injuries?" Her blue eyes looked at Michaela, echoing the pain that was so clearly wracking her body, but they still held a wry wit.

Michaela reached out a hand taking the older woman by the elbow, helping support her. "Of course! Please come in!"

Dorothy shuffled inside, allowing the younger woman to help her; Michaela shut the door behind them; then led her over to the bed. "Stay here."

The doctor moved over to her bag and the cabinet where she kept some extra supplies and pulled a few things out; then she returned to Dorothy's side. "Would you mind…removing your dress?" The older woman looked at her in surprise. "I need to be able to see your injuries."

Dorothy hesitated but took in the doctor's gentle, understanding gaze and then slowly stood and, with some help from Michaela, took off her outer garment, Michaela trying not to jostle any of the injuries. The doctor had to hold back a gasp at the bruises and cuts that covered her body; she swallowed before taking her stethoscope, placing it against Dorothy's chest and asking her to breath. "How did this happen?" Michaela kept watching her patient's chest, monitoring her breathing and not letting her probing gaze to meet the other woman's, not wanting to push her.

"I…uh…I…fell off a…horse."

Michaela swallowed hard. "Oh." She kept her eyes down.

Dorothy had been watching the young doctor and she had the feeling that, in spite of her casual answer, she knew what had really happened.

"Does that happen often?" The tone was casual and light.

"No." Dorothy shifted slightly at the discomfort caused at one point from Michaela's gentle touch; the younger woman gave her an apologetic glance. "Why?"

"Well," Michaela carefully began, "it's just that some of the bruises are a few weeks old and some others a few days." She gestured to some of the bruises on her arms and torso.

"Oh! Uh…those…uh…" Dorothy fumbled around for an explanation. "Well…ya see…"

Michaela held a hand up. "It's alright." Dorothy looked at her, surprised. Michaela went over to one of her drawers, pulled out a nightgown and then handed it to her patient. "Why don't you change into this; I can get the other bed set up so you can rest." The younger woman moved off to the area that was partitioned off by the hanging cloth.

Dorothy watched her go for several moments before finally changing.

8

Dorothy awoke to the smell of eggs being cooked and bread baking; her eyes snapped open in confusion before she remembered what had happened the night before. She sat up in the small bed and glanced around; there was a table off to her left along with several shelves of medical instruments and draped across the back of the chair next to her bed was a robe to go over her night clothes. She slowly got to her feet, still heartily feeling the pain from the night before, and slipped on the robe and moved around the curtain.

Michaela was moving around the kitchen area, preparing breakfast; she glanced up and gave the other woman a bright smile. "Good morning, did you sleep well?"

Dorothy returned the smile. "Mornin', yes, thank you."

The younger woman nodded. "Good, breakfast should be ready soon; would you –"

A whimper came from the cradle; Michaela immediately picked up a bottle sitting on the kitchen table and went to pick up Hanna to feed her. Once the infant was settled in her guardian's arms and happily nursingthe doctorlooked up at Dorothy apologetically. "I'm sorry, breakfast may be a few minutes late."

Dorothy was shaking her head. "Don't worry yourself." She went to the stove. "I can finishmakin' it."

"You don't have –"

"I want to." Dorothy looked her firmly in the eye. "Ya took me in last night, when ya didn't have to, and after only havin' met me once for a few minutes. Now you sit down and take care of my great-nice."

Michaela gave her a grateful smile and settled into a chair.

They stayed in a silence that while comfortable held questions.

"Mrs. Jennings –"

"Oh, please call me Dorothy."

Michaela smiled. "Dorothy…can I ask you something?"

The woman at the stove stilled. She could hear in the doctor's voice that if she said "no" she wouldn't push, and that she was genuinely concerned. "You wanna know if he hit me." It wasn't a question.

Michaela bit her lip and nodded a little. "Yes."

Dorothy sighed. "He did." She told Michaela of how it began, why she took it and why she stayed; by the time she had finished breakfast was ready and she was setting their plates on the table in front of them. She glanced at the younger woman. "You must think me stupid to stay; where you come from it must be different…"

Michaela shook her head vigorously, sympathy on her face. "Back in Boston the only places women could perform their residencies was in the poorer areas, and at my father's practice…women, from the 'finest' families in Boston were always coming in from…'falling down the stairs.'" Hanna had finished nursing and was now resting on Michaela's shoulder; Michaela reached across the table and laid a hand on top of the other woman's. "It doesn't make you weak." She glanced down at the table. "Once, I befriended one of the women, her name was Kathy; she came in one day and finally said that that it was over and that she wasn't going back to him…he came around and begged her to come back, promising that he would never hit her again. She was back three days later, battered. Again she swore she wouldn't go back to him, but he came around, and gave her 'his word,'" Dorothy could tell from Michaela'stone how much she thought of the man's word,"that he wouldn't do it again, and she went back with him…The next day when the police broke into their apartment after a complaint of screaming and other loud noises they found her lying on the floor…beaten to death."

Dorothy stared at her with her mouth dropped slightly open.

Michaela dragged her gaze up to her. "The husband was never charged with anything. I begged my father to claim the body so that we could give her a proper burial, since the husband obviously wasn't going to."

"Dr. Quinn…"

Michaela gripped her hand tighter. "I just don't want to have to attend another funeral, Dorothy."

Dorothy met her gaze, nodding. "I – I left Marcus, last night; that's why I came here after he hit –" she broke off for a moment, closing her eyes and seeming to correct herself, "beat me." She looked back up at the other woman. "I ain't goin' back to him."

Michaela gave her a sad smile. "That's what they all say." She leaned forward. "Kathy wasn't the first woman I treated who ended up dead at her husband's hands; nor was she the last." She shook her head. "No matter what those men say, they never change."

Dorothy was slightly stunned at Michaela's vehemence.

Michaela sat back a bit. "You are welcome to stay here as long as you want or need; we can find you a job in town and, if you prefer, a more permanent place to live."

The older woman's hear warmed at the caring the young doctor was exhibiting for her, even though they hardly knew each other. She smiled and squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

8

Well, here we are. I really hadn't planned for Dorothy to jump back into the story so soon, but that's what happened and I am quite pleased with how this chapter turned out, in particular the portion with Dorothy. Please let me know what you think!