"I just, I didn't know what to say to her. I still can't believe it," Sully had allowed Dorothy to help him back to bed, before continuing their conversation.
"None of us could. But then again, there weren't time for it to sink in, we were too busy trying to keep her alive." Dorothy pulled the quilt over him, taking a seat beside the bed.
"But we were on our way back, we were only a few hours from town. Everything was fine," Sully recounted the events leading up to his fall, Dorothy shaking her head compassionately.
"It's not your fault, you did your best. Michaela'll come around. I think she was just so shocked. She thought you were dead, and then all of a sudden you weren't. She'd gone through so much thinking she'd never see you again, so that when she finally did, it was overwhelming."
"Do you think she blames me?" Sully turned his head, knowing that even if she didn't blame him, he'd feel responsible for the rest of his life.
"Of course not. If anything, she blames herself. She feels guilty for having survived." Dorothy tried to explain, seeing the look of confusion sweep across Sully's face.
"I don't understand." He narrowed his eyes, looking Dorothy up and down for clarification.
"Sully, I don't know if you knew. I don't even know if I should be telling you. Before, Michaela hadn't, she'd never," Dorothy stopped when Sully broke their glance, his eyelids dropping as his voice lowered to a whisper.
"I know." He didn't feel the need to explain any further. Although Michaela had of course never told him directly, Sully knew instinctively that this was one area of her life in which she struggled. He'd known from the time they'd started courting, probably even before that. He'd known from her modesty, her coyness. He'd known from how hurt she'd been when he'd accepted the kiss from Catherine. He just knew.
"And from her upbringing, as it is for most women, she believed she was expected to fight, to the death if need be, to protect herself. But she had to consider the children. She was put into a terrible position, Sully. She's ashamed. She's trying to convince herself she made the right decision." Dorothy explained, awaiting Sully's response.
"She did." He blinked, not speaking for several moments, looking down at Wolf sleeping by the side of the bed. "I probably made things worse. I'll keep my distance until she's ready. I just wish I coulda stopped this nightmare," His voice faded, words unable to describe the helpless remorse flooding through his body.
"Blaming yourself won't help, either. Just gonna make you feel bad. It'll take time, but I'm sure everything will work out. She's a strong woman, she won't let this beat her." Dorothy nodded her head, as if trying to give her words more strength.
Sully was distracted, finding something in his pocket. Slowly pulling out the beaded necklace, he let his eyes drop closed, breath escaping his mouth in a drawn-out sigh.
"What are those?" Dorothy frowned, immediately picking up on the emotional impact the object had had on her friend.
"They belonged to Cloud Dancin's son, Walks on Cloud. He was killed. He died, for nothing in the end," Sully reflected on the ramifications this would have on the town's relationship with the Cheyenne Indians.
"Cloud Dancin', I have to tell him." Sully immediately knew his brother would be shattered by the news of his son's death.
"Sully, you have to look after yourself. You nearly died, you know?" Dorothy rested a hand on his shoulder, afraid he would try to move from the bed.
"Everything's fallen apart. What'll the town think of the Indians now?" Sully shook his head, slipping the beads back into his pocket.
"The people who matter won't think anything. They'll know the difference. Just rest Sully, please. Until Dr Cassidy says you're fit." Dorothy smiled in relief when he dropped his head back to the pillow, taking several breaths and closing his eyes.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Michaela listened to the young boy's cries continue for over a minute, unable to respond. She was once again confronted with the events of the past few days, feeling the anxiety begin to consume her. Looking down at the child in her arms, Michaela knew she had to be strong for him.
From the strength of his tears, she knew her absence alone had caused him unbearable distress. She was reminded of the promise she'd made to herself many days earlier. That she had to survive; for the children if not for herself. Having already lost one mother, Brian was always frightened that he would again be forced through such an ordeal and Michaela knew that allowing herself to fall apart, to give in to the emotions she was feeling, would break his spirit. Adjusting her arms around him, Michaela ran her left hand slowly down his back, her heart absorbing the pain she knew he was feeling. Her determination prevented her from crying with him. Michaela knew if she allowed what had happened to traumatize her children, she may as well have died out there. She had surrendered herself to protect her children from loss and pain, and giving into her own grief now would only deprive them of a second mother; her sacrifice would be worthless.
Feeling his grasp tighten, Michaela realized he had stopped crying and was gently inspecting the grazes on the back of her hand. Cupping his chin, she distracted him from his concern over her, looking deeply into his eyes.
"Brian, I don't want you to worry about anything that's happened. All that matters is that I'm back here, with you, with Colleen and Matthew. We're still a family, and nothing is ever going to change that," Michaela's words were quietly spoken; however, they contained a strength more powerful than volume alone.
Brian held her gaze longer than she expected him to.
"Are we gonna all get to go home soon?" he responded after a long silence.
"Yes, sweetheart, I promise. In a few days," Michaela couldn't ignore the resilience he was able to display. The excitement in his voice forced her to break into a soft smile, as she squeezed his shoulder with her free hand.
"Good, Pup'll be missin' me," he continued, Michaela pushing negative thoughts away, as she strived to see the world through his optimistic eyes.
"Not to mention, I believe someone had a birthday recently?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, the effort to remain in the child's world becoming easier.
He nodded, eyes sparkling as he'd resigned himself to the belief that with everything that had happened, his birthday would have been forgotten.
"I thought everyone woulda forgot about it," Brian confirmed, his smile widening.
"How could we? You still haven't told me what you wanted." Michaela asked.
"I already got what I wanted, Ma," Brian shrugged.
"You did?" Michaela shook her head confused.
"You came back," Brian answered.
Michaela looked down at him, reaching forwards to draw him into a tighter hug. Moving her chin down to kiss the top of his head, Michaela drew a slow breath, smelling the familiarity of his hair. As she closed her eyes, she could feel the tears trickling her cheeks.
Michaela looked up briefly, their eyes meeting as Colleen entered the room carrying a tray of food.
Michaela swallowed, quickly wiping the tears from her cheeks. She lifted her head back, Brian remaining pressed against her.
"What happened to your horse?" Michaela changed the subject deliberately.
"Well, Matthew made it so I could work for Hank for the horse, but then he sold her anyway, even after he promised I could have her." Brian began retelling her the events of the past week, Colleen struggling to get his attention to hand him cutlery and the plate of meatloaf.
Colleen watched quietly from the other side of the room, memories of the previous day's surgery flooding back to her.
"Brian, I don't think," Colleen attempted to hush Brian from his frivolous conversation, Michaela shaking her hand quickly in objection.
"It's all right, Colleen." she smiled in reassurance, as Brian recommenced his story, taking mouthfuls of his lunch between sentences.
~.~
X.O.X
Monday, 17th May, 1869
Two Days Later
X.O.X
~.~
"It's been two whole days, Loren, maybe I should say something. I mean, if she doesn't face him sooner or later it's only gonna make it more difficult." Dorothy rested her chin in her hand, her elbow balanced upon the countertop.
"Will you just leave well enough alone, woman! Stop all this interferin'," he grumbled, trying to prepare the store for opening.
"I ain't interferin', I'm just, well, tryin' to help. You could at least show some concern." Dorothy shook her head, turning to stack some cans against the back wall.
"You're meddlin'. Pure and simple. And don't you go tryin' to tell me how to act. I'm stayin' out of the whole mess. Between you and that sister a mine, Dr Mike's gonna have the rest of her life planned out anyway. 'Sides, the men've got things under control. We're doin' what needs to be done." Loren nodded, satisfied that the cash box contained enough change for the day.
"And what's that supposed to mean? 'Doin' what needs to be done'?" Dorothy stopped working, a single can of beans grasped in her right hand, the other moving to her hip as she faced her brother-in-law.
"Well, with all you women fussin' 'round, we all got together, decided to hold a town meetin'. Set things straight." Loren closed the lid of the cash box, looking around for his next task.
"Loren Bray, what on earth are you talking about?" Dorothy frowned, trying to make sense of his words.
"Just that. The Reverend, Jake and I decided we'd quietly get everyone together, the men folk anyway. Just make sure people know what's happened, so no-one starts any rumors or nothin'. Stop everything gettin' out a hand." Loren finished his sentence quickly, seeing some merchandise that needed to be displayed.
"Oh, tell me you're not serious? That's the last thing Michaela needs, everyone talking about her, knowing stuff that's private." Dorothy was appalled by the plan, placing the can down quickly, to get Loren's attention.
"It ain't like that. It's just, when something like this happens. people talk and stories get well, exaggerated. It's important we get the truth out there, make sure people know the facts, and know not to make it a big deal or nothin'," Loren began refilling several candy jars.
"Sounds like a giant gossip session to me. Beside, it'll only be a big deal if you make it one. And having a public debate about it is just gonna encourage people. You can't do this, Loren. It's wrong," Dorothy lowered the pitch of her voice as she spoke, Loren giving up in exasperation and meeting eyes with her.
"Well, it was an idea, is all. We were tryin' to do what we thought best. I'll pass word that it's cancelled, but don't go blaming me if we get all sorts a rumors spreading 'round here within a week. You don't give the people in this town the facts, they'll just start makin 'em up for themselves. Tell me how much damage that'll do," Loren concluded, heading out through the front door to arrange the verandah for the day's trade.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"You really don't have to fuss over me like this," Michaela handed the breakfast tray back to Colleen, Brian running into the room.
"School's on, Colleen! Come on! I just heard from Steven, it's back on for sure today!" Whilst most children had enjoyed the break from school due to the recent troubles with the dog soldiers' raids over the last week, Brian was eager to get back his 'book-learning'.
"Oh, well, you go ahead, I just have to finish here, I'll catch you up," Colleen piled the plates and utensils on the tray, Brian climbing onto the side of the bed more confidently this time.
"No, really, Colleen. Go with your brother, I can manage," Michaela hugged the boy tightly, as Colleen reluctantly left the tray on the edge of the bed.
"Bye, Ma. I'll come see ya at lunch, if the Reverend'll let me." Brian smiled, reaching for Colleen's hand and practically dragging her through the doorway.
Michaela sighed, looking around the now empty room. Although momentarily grateful for the solitude, she soon realized she was left with her own thoughts once again, and nothing to distract her away from them. Noticing the tray at the end of the bed, several plates around it, Michaela pushed the quilt aside, deciding if she was to keep her promise to Brian to go home soon, she'd have to get back on her feet first.
Placing her hands either side of her body for support, Michaela tentatively drew her knees up slightly, aware of how stiff her legs were from days of bed rest. Taking a breath, she quickly rotated herself to the edge of the bed, allowed her feet to slowly drop to the ground, the floorboards cold under her bare feet. Swallowing, not knowing whether she was actually going to be able to make it upright, Michaela shifted her weight to her legs, aware of a dull ache radiating through her lower body. In a quick movement, she stood, relieved when she didn't notice any overwhelming discomfort. After taking a very hesitant step forwards, Michaela allowed the air in her lungs to escape. She felt much more comfortable than she had days earlier. Turning back towards the bed, Michaela saw the unmistakable dark crimson stain against the white bed sheet.
A hand covering her mouth spontaneously, Michaela squeezed her eyes closed, trying desperately to stop her mind reliving random flashbacks, she immediately tossed the quilt back over the bed, focusing her attention on her previous task of stacking the breakfast dishes and placing the tray securely on the table in the corner of the room. Michaela found herself again at a loss for distraction, quickly searching the wardrobe for a dressing gown. She pulled the material around her body tightly, beginning to button the front, when she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
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X.O.X
~.~
"That's three dollars eighty. Thanks," Loren accepted the money, hearing the coins hit the metal bottom of the cash tin as he handed Jake the groceries.
"So, how's everything?" The barber questioned, an eyebrow raised.
"Why you askin' me? You know I don't go in for all that stuff," Loren brushed Jake's curiosity off, suddenly remembering he needed to discuss a change of plan.
"Don't be ridiculous, Loren. You're the one keeping the town up to date. My customer's been askin' questions. So?" Jake pressed the issue, knowing deep down Loren was a soft touch.
"Aww, for heaven's sake, all right," Loren sighed in resolution, stepping out from behind the counter to stand closer to Jake's side.
"Well, all I know is she still hadn't spoken to Sully. But apart from that, Dorothy says everything's fine. Apparently she and the children are going home Wednesday, which reminds me, that ah, little meeting idea I had, turns out it might not be such a great plan. Perhaps we'd best just call it off?" Loren kept his voice low, aware of the attention he was receiving from other customers.
"You were the one who suggested it, though. Can't say I'm fussed either way, but I'll pass it around. Thanks again, Loren." Jake retrieved his goods from the counter, leaving the store briskly.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Michaela had perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed when she saw the familiar face appear in the doorway.
"Morning, Dr Mike. Are you, is everything all right?" Olive entered the room, looking Michaela up and down worriedly.
"Fine," she stated simply "I thought it was about time I was back on my feet," Michaela looked away from Olive's glance, not sure what the response would be.
"Well, if you feel up to it. Dr Cassidy said he was gonna stop by this morning, guess you can get dressed after that, that is, if you want to?" Olive frowned, somewhat confused by Michaela's attitude the past few days. Whilst she'd remained quiet and thoughtful most of Saturday, Sunday had seen her playing checkers with Brian and later helping Colleen to fix a hem on a dress. Olive was thrilled her friend seemed to be recovering well, but something just wasn't sitting right with her.
"That would be nice. I promised Brian we'd be going home as soon as possible, and that's not going to happen if I'm still stuck in bed all day." Michaela brought her gaze back to Olive's face as she spoke, mustering all the conviction she could into one very put-together expression.
"You've a point, I suppose. But if you do want to talk about anything, I'm here," Olive crossed the room, sitting on Michaela's left side.
"I don't," she replied, without missing a beat, her voice hollow and sharp.
Olive detected the strain in her voice and decided to change the subject.
"Brian sure seemed excited to be heading back to school. That boy, I tell you," Olive shook her head, breaking out into a smile.
Michaela nodded quickly, her thoughts moving quickly to the children, as Olive stood to reach for the tray.
"I'll just take this back to Grace's. Anything you need?" She spoke, intrigued as Michaela's reaction appeared significantly delayed.
"No, thank-you Olive," she replied after several moments, Olive heading back out through the recovery room door.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Well, I trust everyone's pleased to be back?" The Reverend spoke, looking around the room at the sea of young faces. Brian, sitting next to Steven in his usual front row seat, nodded immediately, poking his friend in the arm as he appeared to be drifting back to sleep.
"Now, I know everyone's probably eager to get the results from their last spelling test, but I thought I'd talk to you about a surprise I've been planning. What do you say we all write our own play, and perform it for the town?" The Reverend waited for the expected uproar of enthusiasm, surprised when the class remained silent.
"Well?" He prompted again, somewhat disheartened, before realizing that the expected enthusiasm would normally have come from Brian, who remained still in his seat, distracted by playing with a piece of chalk.
"Brian? What do you think?" Timothy approached the boy's desk, Steven waking up quickly on hearing his teacher's voice closer than it had previously been.
"Huh? Sorry Reverend, sounds great!" Brian quickly took in the Reverend's words.
"I thought you'd enjoy something like that. Now, first we all have to decide what we want the play to be about," the Reverend noticed Alice's hand raised, and granted her permission to speak.
"Will we have fancy costumes, Reverend?" She queried, always ecstatic around the chance to be the center of attention.
"I, I guess so. Colleen, given your brilliant writing skills, I thought you might like to help us write the play?" Timothy continued, again finding it difficult to engage the Cooper children in the proposed activity.
"Sure," she looked up from her seat next to Becky, a weak smile crossing her face.
"Excellent. So, who has an idea for the play?" He continued, fighting against the whispering and giggling coming from the back of the room.
"Benjamin, you seem to have a lot to say, how about contributing to the discussion?" The Reverend spoke, his tone sterner this time.
"Me, Reverend? Well, what if, ah there was a doctor," he began, looking across at his best friend Cal, who smirked, finishing his sentence for him.
"Who got abducted by a bunch of Injuns," The two boys burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, the entire room soon erupting in conversation.
Colleen turned quickly to her brother, whose jaw had dropped in shock, the pair locking eyes as the Reverend tried to control the rest of the class.
"All right, that's enough! I expected more of you Cal, and you too Benjamin. I just want to say right now, that I won't tolerate any gossiping in school, and you're both old enough to know better!" Timothy drew a breath, stunned at their insensitive behavior.
Waiting several moments for the class to settle down again, Timothy continued his discussion, however conscious of the low whispering between almost every child at one point or another.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Dr Cassidy dropped the instruments into the bowl next to him on the bed, wiping his hands, and turning to Olive.
"It's probably too early to have taken the sutures out, but if there are any complications I'd rather know about them now. Too late once I'm on the stage back to Denver." He stood quickly, Olive draping the quilt back over Michaela who remained unresponsive, her eyelids dropped closed and head turned throughout the painful examination.
"If need be we'll wire you," Olive was momentarily distracted by the polarized change in Michaela's behavior over the previous half an hour.
Thomas Cassidy nodded, collecting his things and indicating for Olive to join him in the corridor.
"You're gonna have your hands full with that one. Physically just watch for any bleeding and try to keep her as quiet as possible for a few weeks. Although, by the looks of things, that won't be a problem." Olive cut him off, gripping his arm.
"On the contrary Doctor, before you got here, she seemed absolutely fine. That's what I don't understand, one minute she'll be as if nothing's happened, next, well, practically paralyzed." Olive removed her arm, sensing the Doctor's discomfort with the gesture.
"Yes, well, that's to be expected in these cases. Give it a few months, if there's no improvement, I've a colleague who's a psychiatrist. He can make any necessary arrangements." Dr Cassidy sighed, convinced that this would prove the only viable outcome.
"I really don't think," Olive interjected in Michaela's defense.
"But I trust you'll leave it up to those of us with the proper qualifications. Now, I've another patient," he replied instantly, tipping his hat and striding down the hallway towards the stairs.
Olive turned around facing back into the room, gazing at Michaela's still motionless form. Reaching a hand to her temple, Olive pushed her hair from her face, deciding then and there that Thomas Cassidy would not be proven right. Stepping into the room, Olive took a seat by Michaela's beside, reaching for her hand. Surprised when Michaela moved slightly, Olive smiled, leaning forward.
"Thought you were asleep for a moment there." She watched as Michaela slowly opened her eyes, looking around the room worriedly.
"He's gone, just us." Olive reassured, aware of the relief appearing on Michaela's face.
"What did he say?" Michaela asked, tightening her jaw and trying to sit up, Olive resting a hand quickly on her shoulder in protest.
"That you're to stay in bed for a few more days. He thinks you'll be fine to go home Wednesday, so long as you take it easy. You can get dressed if you want, but you're not moving around or nothin', ya hear?" Olive removed her hand, letting it drop to her side as Michaela nodded.
Olive got to her feet, quickly fetching Michaela a change of clothes from the wardrobe, laying them on the edge of the bed.
"I'll be downstairs, come back and check on you in a few minutes." Olive moved to the doorway, Michaela once again managing to get to her feet, nodding her reply.