Dorothy looked up as she heard footsteps on the stairs, getting to her feet and quietly pacing across the room to the doorway.
"Oh, Grace, you didn't have to do that." Dorothy smiled, helping her set the tray down on the table.
"Well, I figured you'd be stayin' with her tonight at least. Brought enough for everybody." Grace smiled, noticing the small boy asleep in a chair by Michaela's bedside.
"Should I wake him?" she continued, handing Dorothy a bowl of soup.
"Best do, I suppose. He hasn't eaten all day. Been frettin' too much." Dorothy sighed, approaching Brian and squeezing his shoulder to wake him.
"Ma?" He wiped his eyes, looking confused.
"No, Brian, she's sleepin'. Here, Miss Grace brought us some supper." Dorothy handed him the bowl of soup.
"I'm not hungry." He tried to pass up the soup, Dorothy however insisting.
"Brian, you haven't eaten anything today. Now, if you want to stay here with your ma, you'll eat something." Dorothy turned back to Grace as Brian reluctantly sipped his soup.
"Can I speak with you?" Dorothy whispered, she and Grace stepping out into the hallway.
"Anything I can do to help?" Grace asked, resting a hand supportively on Dorothy's shoulder.
"I just don't know. I checked earlier, and I think the bleeding's stopped, so at least she's not in immediate danger, but I'm only guessin' at this. I feel like I should be doing something more, not just sitting around, waiting." Dorothy sighed, exasperated.
"Ain't there nothin' you can do, is there? Did she wake up proper before?" Grace asked, checking that Brian was eating his soup.
"Only for a minute or so. Brian's relief got the better of him, and he jumped on the bed, hugging her. I was worried that he'd hurt her, as she passed out again straight after, but as I said, I wouldn't know the first thing about internal injuries. That reminds me, you haven't seen Colleen about, have you?" Dorothy asked, suddenly aware of the girl's absence.
"Well, come to think of it, I haven't. Not since General Custer left, anyway." Grace looked momentarily concerned.
"Hope she's all right. I'll send Matthew to find her." Dorothy headed downstairs, as Grace returned to the recovery room.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Heads rose once again as the Clinic door opened, and Dorothy stepped out onto the porch.
"Any news?" Jake enquired, moving forward away from the wall he'd been leaning against.
"Well, she came to for a little while before, but didn't say anything really. Suppose she's better off resting until the Doctor gets here. Anyone seen Colleen about?" Dorothy glanced around the porch, Matthew reacting immediately.
"No, I thought she was upstairs with you guys," he trailed off, the look of growing concern apparent in his eyes.
"No, she left just as Michaela stirred, when you all did. I thought she was down here?" Dorothy frowned, noticing the panicked look cross Matthew's face.
"I'll go find her. She probably just wanted some time alone, all things considered." Matthew tried to sound calm, however the speed at which he departed suggested he was anything but.
"Matthew!" The Reverend tried to stop the young man, Dorothy intervening and gripping his arm loosely.
"Let him go. It's probably best they have some time to talk on their own, anyway. It's gonna be hard for the children; Brian's refusing to leave her side. I had to practically force food down his throat." Dorothy informed the group, with a dismayed expression.
"Aw, the poor lad. He wouldn't understand what's going on." Loren sighed, having developed quite a close relationship with the small boy, becoming the grandson he'd never had.
"Well, I spoke to him earlier and he understands," Dorothy replied.
"You don't mean you told him?" Loren retorted quickly, stunned and slightly horrified.
"Of course. I had to. After Jake's little outburst downstairs, he wanted to know." Dorothy defended, lowering her voice slightly.
"But, he's just a child. He doesn't need to know about these things." Loren was adamant that this was not a subject children should be exposed to.
"On the contrary, Loren. He's gonna hear about it time and time again from now on. I don't see the point in hiding him from the truth." Dorothy had her left hand on her hip by this stage, not enjoying having to justify what had already been an impossible decision.
"People, please!" the Reverend intervened quickly. "We're not going to do any good fighting amongst ourselves. I'm inclined to agree with Dorothy. Shielding him from reality is only going to make it harder in the long run. Now, I appreciate that everyone's upset by what's happened, but there's nothing we can do standing around here. I suggest we all get on with our lives until we hear any news. Jake?" Timothy cleared his throat, looking across at Jake for support.
"I agree, Reverend. We can't do anything out here. Might as well head on home." Jake took the initiative to stride to the edge of the porch, preparing to step off, when suddenly he saw something moving in the distance.
"I don't believe it!" he gasped, quickly obtaining everyone's attention.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Colleen! Colleen?" Matthew had searched from the Clinic, to the Mercantile, all to no avail.
"Colleen!" He called again, running over the bridge toward the church. Again, it was empty. Turning, he noticed the door leading into the schoolhouse ajar, immediately heading towards it. Due to the recent raids and threats of hangings, school had been cancelled for the past two days.
"Colleen?" Matthew called, softly this time, as he pushed the door open and scanned the desks. Closing the door as quietly as he could behind him, he paced across to the desk in the front row, where Colleen sat hunched over, head in her hands.
"Colleen? Everyone was startin' to get worried about you," Matthew whispered, surprised when she didn't budge. Gingerly taking a seat next to her, he sighed.
"It's just, it's not fair, ya know? She was always tryin' to do right by everyone, especially the Indians." Colleen raised her head, revealing her red, tear-stained face.
"I know. It's not fair. But nothin' is. Weren't fair that Pa left, that Ma died. Life's not meant to be fair. Life's just life. A bunch of stuff that happens and we just have to do our best each day to cope with whatever comes our way. I mean, as angry as I feel inside, I know there ain't nothin' I can do. All the dog soldiers are dead, we killed 'em this morning, so there's nothin' else can be done, 'cept be there for each other and Dr Mike. That's all we can do." Matthew turned, not sure he'd said the right thing. He didn't think he was any good at talking about serious things.
"You're right, Matthew. I just, I feel so angry. Ma trusted the Indians. She went out of her way to try and make life better for 'em, and look what happened." Colleen pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, wiping her eyes and cheeks.
"I know, Colleen, I know. But you gotta remember, it was the dog soldiers who done it, not the Cheyenne people we knew." Matthew got to his feet, gesturing for Colleen to come with him.
"I don't wanna go back there," she whispered, looking down at her desk.
"I know it's hard, but we got to. Everyone there's on our side. They just wanna help in their own way. Grace's brought supper to the Clinic, and Dorothy and Brian are sitting with Dr Mike. We should be together." He managed to convince her to stand from the desk and follow him out of the schoolroom, back to the Clinic.
~.~
X.O.X
Thursday, 13th May, 1869
One Day Later
X.O.X
~.~
Michaela opened her eyes to the bright morning sunlight which filled the window. She blinked several times as she oriented herself. She felt as if all feeling returned to her body like a wave washing over her, the events of the previous week invading her mind simultaneously as the physical pain hit her consciousness. Hearing herself exhale, Michaela looked down to see her hands resting on the patchwork quilt either side of her body, frowning as she saw the abrasions on her knuckles. Gazing past her hands, she recognized the light-colored hand-sewn patchwork quilt, lifting her head to confirm that she was in fact in a recovery room at the Clinic. Although she felt momentarily reassured by the sense of familiarly and safety that flowed over her, Michaela quickly became aware of other discomforts, and was suddenly reminded that the traumatic images filling her head were in fact reality.
Sipping a hand underneath the quilt, Michaela gingerly felt the material packing between her thighs, instantaneously recalling the blood covering her hands and realizing she hadn't made it this far on her own. The confusion of missing time only added to her panic; how had she got here? What day was it? Michaela glanced down noticing the white nightdress she was in, panic soon being coupled with mortification at the thought that someone had tended to her injuries; someone had changed her.
Michaela knew she had always been over-protective of her privacy, possibly because she'd grown up as the baby, resulting in countless hours of being fussed over and dressed by her four older sisters. Her intense degree of modesty was only strengthened as she progressed academically through college and medical school, having to fend off the unwanted attention of many male peers, to whom her scholarly accomplishments were of far less importance than her courting habits.
Michaela was aware of another memory niggling at her. She tried to concentrate. Sully. She remembered the feelings of his broad arms around her shoulders, rocking her soothingly in his arms. Michaela gasped audibly, as she relived the memory of him falling from the cliff. She heard herself call his name over and over. Brushing her hands over her face in an attempt to wipe the tears from her eyes, Michaela saw something move out of the corner of her eye.
"Ma!" Brian threw the blanket back, bounding out of the cot across the room, quickly arriving at her bedside.
"Ma! You're awake! I knew you'd wake up again. Miss Dorothy said to let you sleep, but I knew you'd wake up!" Brian couldn't contain his elation.
Michaela was momentarily startled by the sound and movement, jolting her back into the present moment.
"How you feelin'?" he asked. After the events of the previous day, he was very careful not to touch the bed.
Michaela looked away from him, down at the patchwork quilt. She tried to swallow, realizing how dry her mouth was.
"Brian, could you get me a glass of water, please?" Michaela asked, trying to determine what she was really after; the water, or the solitude.
"Sure," he smiled, quickly leaving the room. Michaela sighed as she heard the sound of his footsteps descending the stairs.
Feeling weak once again, Michaela let her head drop back down to the pillows supporting her, not realizing her eyes had closed until she felt the hand on her arm.
"Michaela?" She flinched automatically against the contact, however recognizing the feminine voice, opening her eyes to confirm its identity.
"Dorothy," she whispered.
"I sent Brian to Grace's for some breakfast. Thought you'd want some time on your own for a while." The red-haired woman pulled a chair closer to the side of the bed, sitting down.
"Thank-you." Michaela wasn't sure what was happening, she could hear her voice, but didn't feel as though she was able to concentrate on what she was saying.
"Michaela, we wired Denver for a doctor, he'll be here tomorrow. We didn't know what else to do until then," Dorothy trailed off, knowing she should be informing Michaela of her physical condition, however not convinced her friend was fully able to take in her words.
"Doctor?" Michaela heard a familiar word, although she couldn't process anything else. She hadn't realized her eyes had dropped back closed.
"Michaela, are you feeling all right?" Dorothy paused, now sure Michaela wasn't following her. Waiting several moments, she brushed her arm again, receiving no response. Shaking her head, Dorothy leaned back in the chair, deciding it was best to let her sleep.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Brian ran down the side of the Clinic, barely able to maintain his balance, increasing the speed of his pace with each stride. Turning and running across to the open space, he looked frantically for Miss Grace, spotting her cleaning a table.
"Miss Grace, Miss Grace!" he reached her, puffing as he continued talking.
"Ma's awake! Miss Dorothy wants you to bring her some breakfast!" Brian finally stopped long enough to regain his breath, pulling eagerly on the woman's skirt.
"Slow down there, mister. I've only got two hands." Grace finished setting the table, heading back to the stove, grabbing a tray and filling it with a plate, bowl and cup.
"I'm sorry, but Miss Dorothy told me to ask you. Come on, let's go!" he rushed her, unaware of the reality that she actually had to prepare the tray.
"Brian, I'm fixin' a tray as quick as I can here. Why don't you get me a napkin, and cutlery, all right?" She gestured to the nearby table where the utensils and linen was kept, worried the boy would be burnt jumping around the hot stove. Brian quickly grabbed the requested items, watching eagerly as Grace buttered some toast and delicately positioned it on the plate, adding some bacon. Reaching for another bowl, Grace spooned a small amount of the preserved apples into the small glass dish on the tray and filled the cup with steaming hot coffee.
"Ma said she wanted water too," Brian interjected, as if instantly calming enough to recall Michaela's words.
"Right," Grace smiled, filling a cup with water, and adding it to the contents of the tray, following behind Brian as he skipped back towards the Clinic.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Elijah Woods frowned, seeing the young boy rush up to the black woman, pulling on her clothing with energy. The short, red-haired man cleared his throat, leaving two bits on the table as payment for his breakfast, reached for his hat and stood from the table. Having just arrived in the small town, he was surprised as the emptiness. He'd been dropped off by the stagecoach which had been three days late, an hour earlier, and stepped into what reminded him of a ghost town. Gazing up and down the deserted street, the only other building appearing to show any signs of life was the Saloon. Pushing his hat squarely down onto his head, Elijah made his way across the street, checking his jacket pocket for a notepad and pencil with a wry smile.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Dorothy looked up as she heard Brian's feet hitting the wooden stairs as he ran up them, swinging on the doorframe as his skidded into the room, his face dropping when he saw Michaela's closed eyes.
"Miss Dorothy?" his shoulders fell, looking between her and his Ma.
"She went back to sleep Brian. It's for the best, you know that." Dorothy soothed, rubbing his back lovingly. Brian moved out of the way as Grace bustled into the room, setting the tray down on the table in the corner, turning to Dorothy a little confused.
"Brian said Dr Mike was awake. That you wanted a tray brought over?" Grace questioned, Dorothy ushering the young boy from the room, closing the door after he'd departed.
"She was, but she fell asleep again. I honestly don't know what else to do, Grace. I mean, it has been a day, and she hasn't had anything to eat or drink. What do you think?" Dorothy didn't feel right making all these decisions without at least another adult's opinion.
"Well, I, um wouldn't know, but I suppose food would increase her strength." Grace provided, trying to be of some support to Dorothy, who, after spending most of the night cramped in the small chair by Michaela's bedside, was looking extremely frazzled and exhausted.
"You're right. If we can just get her to eat a little, she can sleep as much as she wishes after." Dorothy nodded, stepping to the side of the bed as Grace reached for the bowl of stewed apples and the cup of water.
"Michaela, come on, wake up. Michaela?" Dorothy pleaded, tentatively brushing the Doctor's right arm. Fortunately, she stirred quickly, again taking a moment to familiarize herself with her location.
"Michaela, Grace and I are here. We want you to try and have some breakfast." Dorothy watched as Michaela struggled to interpret her words.
"Dorothy?" she whispered a weak response, managing to keep her eyes open.
"Michaela, try and sit up a little, if you can," Dorothy deliberately phrased her words as a statement, moving her arms to Dr Mike's shoulders, encouraging her to move.
Once Dorothy had very awkwardly assisted Michaela into a semi-seated position, Grace handed Dorothy the small glass bowl and cup.
"Here, Michaela, drink this." Dorothy brought the cup to Michaela's lips, nodding in encouragement as Michaela began drinking the clear liquid.
"That's it," Dorothy smiled, as she finished the water, handing the empty cup back to Grace in exchange for the glass bowl and spoon.
"It's just some preserved apples, nothing too heavy," Dorothy brought the small spoon again to Michaela's mouth, looking back at Grace as Michaela slowly devoured the bowl of fruit.
"Good. Michaela, do you feel up to some toast?" Dorothy asked, hopeful, however merely grateful her friend had consumed something.
"Maybe later?" Michaela replied.
"Fine," Dorothy paused, suddenly not knowing what to say. Turning to Grace, the red-haired woman sought assistance, however Grace diverted her glance, equally uncertain of how to proceed.
The room remained silent for several minutes as Michaela finished the fruit and glass of water.
"There, good," Dorothy smiled gently, handing the bowl back to Grace.
Exhausted, Michaela blinked her eyes as if confirming where she was.
"What day is it?" Michaela asked quietly, feeling the overwhelming fatigue crushing down upon her shoulders.
"Thursday morning, Dr Mike," Grace answered, looking immediately to Dorothy.
"Oh," Michaela simply whispered, feeling very detached from the people around her.
Without realizing it, her eyes dropped closed again. Michaela aware of the heavy ache radiating from deep within her abdomen, her aching feet, and upper body.
Slowly, she repositioned her hands either side of her hips, against the quilt. Just moving her arms hurt. Her eyes remained closed as she dropped back into a deep sleep.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Hank looked up as the Saloon door swung open, flipping the lid closed on his money tin cautiously, a hand going customarily to his holster.
"Sure is quiet around here." Elijah shook his head, sauntering over to the bar.
"Yeah, don't get many people wantin' a drink at nine in the mornin'" Hank raised an eyebrow, tentatively removing his hand from the handle of the gun.
"No, I meant this little town you've got here. Had some breakfast over at the cafe, only people I saw were a black woman and a little boy. You the only man in this town?" Elijah smirked, tipping his hat.
Hank chuckled, flattered by the notion, pouring them both a glass of sarsaparilla.
"Nah, not really. They've all gone out on a wild goose chase," Hank sipped his drink, curious as to who this man even was.
"Ah, I see. Chasing after?" Elijah prompted, intrigued.
"'Fraid I haven't seen you 'round these parts. Where you from?" Hank queried, looking the man up and down suspiciously.
"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I. Elijah Woods, Rocky Mountain News. Got word the army'd got into some strife with the Indians, Thought I'd best come check it out. Let the rest of the world know we're putting the red man in his place." Elijah smiled, observing Hank's keen interest.
"Ah, so you're a reporter, eh? Well, the army left yesterday, called the hangings off." Hank smelt a profit to be made, generously refilling their glasses.
"I see. They got the woman back then?" Elijah had only heard that the renegade Cheyenne had kidnapped a woman, and Custer had threatened to hang the whole village unless she was returned.
"In a manner of speaking," Hank was being specifically vague, more interested in talking money. After a moment of silence, Elijah understood his motives.
"Of course, where are my manners. I suppose I should pay you for those drinks," The rise in his voice at the end of the sentence conveyed the insinuation.
"Well, yeah, ya could do," Hank pushed his hair back from his face, his face breaking out into a greedy grin. Elijah nodded, slipping the coins from his pocket, pleased when the payment met with Hank's approval.
"Hangings were all set to go ahead couple days ago, but Custer let the children talk him outa it." Hank paused, as Elijah retrieved his pencil and notepad from his front pocket.
"Kids?" Elijah scribbled the details down enthusiastically.
"The woman's," Hank cleared his throat, not wanting to give too much away too cheaply.
"So who is she, how'd they get her back?" Elijah was starting to get mildly inpatient, a hand going to his pocket in temptation. Hank grinned again, continuing to recount the events.
"Michaela's the Doc, always defended the injuns, least 'til now I guess." Hank took a sip of his drink, accepting the fifty cent piece and carrying on with his story.
"So Brian, her youngest, convinced Custer to go look for her and the men joined 'em. Army gave up Tuesday night, men brought her into town early Wednesday mornin'" Hank concluded, Elijah's expression indicating he was more than satisfied with the information.
"I see. So where is everyone now?" the reporter pressed on, turning a page in his notebook.
"Went off chasing a wolf. Long story, see, Sully went after Michaela when they first took her, disappeared." Hank saw the bewilderment in the man's eyes, immediately providing more information.
"Sully's our, erm, resident injun tamer. Well 'least he thinks he is. Spent the last few years livin' with them, dressing like 'em. Practically one of them. Anyway, he and the Doc, well, some people 'round here reckon there was somethin' goin' on, so he went out lookin' for her. The wolf he's always with came back into town yesterday carrying Sully's beads, so the men went out tryin' to find him. Ask me it's a waste of time," Hank shook his head, turning as Myra stumbled in from her bedroom.
"Hank, what's all noise down here? Some of us are tryin' to sleep." She looked between her employer and the newcomer.
"Myra, like to introduce you to a friend of mine. Mr. Elijah Woods. He's from Denver. Come to report the little trouble we've been havin'." Hank nodded to Elijah.
"Morning, miss. Sorry to disturb you. And please, call me Eli." He turned back to Hank.
"So where might I find this doctor, then? I'm sure my readers back home would love to hear about her ordeal." He slipped his hand into his pocket, handing Hank a dollar coin.
"Hank! You're makin' money off this! I can't believe you!" Myra's jaw dropped in horror when she noticed the transaction.
"Mind your own business, get back to bed. Over at the Clinic, mister, just across the street." Hank waved his arm in the general direction.
"Hank! You really are lower than a snake!" Myra turned, dashing back to her room in disgust.
"Much obliged, Sir. Also, I'll need somewhere to stay for a few days? You be able to help me with that?" Elijah slipped his notebook and pen back into his pocket, approaching the French doors.
"Of course. Consider the finest room I've got yours. Also can fix you up with some company. First one's on the house," Hank gestured to the doorway in which Myra just left from.
"Appreciate your hospitality. Mornin'." Elijah strode out into the open air once again, looking around to get his bearings. Time to get himself a story.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Grace moved down the stairs and through the corridor into the examination room, all three children looking up in expectation.
"How is she, Miss Grace?" Matthew stood, resting his arms behind his back awkwardly.
"Sleepin' on and off, but doin' better, I think. She had some breakfast and Miss Dorothy's helping her freshen up a bit." Grace smiled.
"So we can go see her?" Brian chirped up, looking eagerly towards the stairs.
"Just give them a few minutes, Brian. Colleen can go up and check a bit later." Matthew opened the door as Grace finished talking with Brian, quickly leaving with the empty tray.
"Let's go, Brian. We'll go over the livery, see how the horse is coming along." Matthew thought it best to give Colleen some time with Dr Mike, without Brian around.
"I don't wanna. Hank won't let me have her anyway," he sulked, kicking the leg of the exam table angrily.
"Come on, we'll see what we can do. I'll talk to Hank again," Matthew pushed Brian towards the open door.
"Aww, Matthew," Brian resisted, eventually giving in, heading outside.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Just as he was about to step off the Saloon porch, Eli noticed a door open, shielding his eyes from the bright morning sun, he recognized the small boy from the cafe, and decided to approach him.
"Morning there, son. Hey, didn't I see you over at the cafe earlier?" Elijah reached into his pocket, finding some mints and handing one to the child.
Brian frowned, knowing he shouldn't be taking the candy, however too angry to really care at this moment, quickly popping the sweet into his mouth.
"Yeah," he responded, looking up at the stranger.
"Who are you?" Matthew arrived quickly by Brian's side, glaring suspiciously at the man.
"Eli Woods, and you are?" He smiled, extending his hand.
"Matthew Cooper, can I help you?" Matthew reluctantly shook hands, never having seen the man in town before.
"Well, I heard, that is, I was wondering, is there a doctor around?" He ventured, looking between the two boys.
"Ma's in," Brian turned and pointed, Matthew quickly cutting him off.
"No, I'm afraid not. There's a doctor from Denver arrivin' tomorrow if you need one." Matthew cleared his throat, indicating for Brian to hush.
"Oh, I see. Thanks." Eli nodded, heading off in the other direction, glancing back over his shoulder as the two boys went on their way towards the livery. Smiling to himself, Eli turned back, ensuring the boys were well away, before approaching the door Brian had come out from, knocking loudly.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Oh, Colleen," Dorothy looked up as the young girl poked her head around the door, entering the room hesitantly.
"Matthew suggested I come up. Hi Ma," Colleen smiled warmly, pleased that Dr Mike was awake and looking brighter.
"Colleen, here, you sit for a while. I'm just gonna go downstairs." Dorothy had helped Michaela into a fresh nightgown, and changed the sheets, collecting the old linen and leaving the room.
Colleen sat down next to the bed, uneasily, but relieved.
"Are you feelin' all right, is there anything I can," Colleen trailed off, as Michaela shook her head.
"Oh Ma, we were so worried," Colleen felt her eyes fill with tears, she swallowed, trying to stop herself from crying.
"I know, it'll be all right. I'm going to be fine," Michaela paused, noticing the wave of concern sweep over Colleen's face.
"Ma, you're still hurt. We did what we could, but you need a doctor," Colleen spoke very awkwardly, trying to remain unemotional.
"Dorothy told me. How bad?" Michaela sighed, looking away.
Colleen took a quick breath, knowing that she had to be strong. However difficult this was for her, she knew it was only tougher for her ma. Remembering the conversations she'd had with Michaela regarding professionalism, Colleen forced herself to remember what they'd done the day before.
"Bad. When they brought you in, Miss Dorothy and Miss Grace didn't know what to do. I remembered what you'd done when Miss Dorothy was ill. I examined you best I could, Ma. You were bleeding a lot, and there is internal damage, but there wasn't anything I could do, apart from putting in some packing and using ice compresses. We managed to get the bleeding stopped, anyway, but you'll need surgery." Colleen glanced up to see Michaela looking strangely at her.
"Ma?" she whispered, suddenly afraid she's done the wrong thing.
"You saved my life, Colleen," Michaela extended her arm, drawing the young girl into a hug. Colleen couldn't contain her tears any longer, sobbing on Michaela's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Ma. I'm so sorry," Colleen wept, wishing she could take back what had happened, the fact that she couldn't only making her feel worse.
"Sshh, I know." Michaela rubbed her back, feeling tears run down her own cheeks.