Sully, remaining secluded away behind the large oak, watched as the auction continued without incident.
"Well, aren't we hidden away back here," Hank approached quietly, popping his head around the tree, a cocky smile plastered across his face.
"What do ya want, Hank?" Sully took a step away from the tree, Wolf, running back from a patch of ground he'd been sniffing, whined defensively.
"Nothin', just came to watch all the fun. Hope I haven't missed it all," Hank looked from the dwindling group of ladies back to Sully.
"Nope," Sully muttered, not in the least bit eager to converse with the bartender any longer than he had to.
"Thought you'd be over there, though. Bidding," Hank raised an eyebrow suggestively.
"Well, I ain't," Sully retorted, his voice strong and unwavering.
"Finally lost interest, have ya? Realized she ain't the settlin' down and having babies type," Hank chuckled lightly, taking a few steps backwards when he realized his comment had the potential to place him in physical danger.
"Just don't believe in it, is all. Wouldn't have thought something so civilized as dancin' would be your style, Hank?" Sully leaned back against the tree, his eyes darting between the auction in progress to the Saloon owner.
"Never know. I can dance, ya know. 'Sides, if it's the right lady, sure she could teach me a thing or two." Hank turned the corner of his mouth up into a mischievous snarl, Sully reaching forwards in an attempt to catch his arm as he prepared to make his way over to the group of townspeople.
"You wouldn't dare," Sully growled under his breath, his eyes locking with Hank's for several drawn-out moments.
"Who's about to stop me, injun boy?" Hank looked down at the several feet between their bodies, Sully realizing Hank had a point.
"Just don't even think about it. I'm warnin' you," Sully looked down at the alert Wolf by his side, patting his head softly.
Hank shrugged, turning back towards the open meadow, sauntering the hundred yards or so over to the gathering.
"And at fifty cents, Robert E. is the highest bidder. Congratulations and Grace, may I add that dress is just beautiful," the Reverend tapped the gavel lightly on the lectern in front of him, Grace crossing the small distance to Robert E's side, turning to glance at the three women still awaiting their auction.
Michaela felt a hand on her shoulder; Olive pushing her gently forwards until she was at the front of the clearing. Her jaw dropping, being thrust into the spotlight, Michaela realized this might not have been such a terrific idea after all. Her eyes moving from Olive back towards the large crowd, Michaela scanned the sea of mostly unfriendly faces, finally seeing Brian by Loren's side, his eyes lit up in pride.
"Dr Michaela Quinn," the Reverend began, watching more than a couple of snide whisperings taking place.
"Reverend, I really don't think," Benjamin Avery's father interceded, remaining by his wife's side.
"Two bits!" Loren began, knowing if they just got on with it, everything would settle down.
"Thank-you, Loren. All right, we're at two bits," Timothy cleared his throat, noticing Hank join the gathering, the Saloon owner remaining quiet.
"One dollar," A young, blond haired rancher chuckled, although serious in his offer.
"Right, ah, that's a dollar," the Reverend looked between Jake, Loren and Dorothy, this being exactly the situation he had feared.
Dorothy noticed the look of nervous dread flash over Michaela's face, and nudged Jake sharply in the ribs.
"You gotta do something, Jake," she whispered however realizing just as he did there wasn't anything he could do.
"I can't. I already got you. Can't bid anymore," Jake replied, his voice low and exasperated as he watched sly smiles creep over several of the men's faces around him.
"One-fifty," Another anonymous voice announced from within the crowd, Brian tugging lightly on Loren's sleeve.
"Mr. Bray, Ma ain't gonna wanna dance with someone she don't know," The young boy looked anxiously between the gray-haired man and Michaela's numb expression.
"Don't you worry, son," Loren squeezed his shoulder, about to speak up with an all too familiar drawl emanated from the back of the group.
"Two dollars," Hank pushed his way through, arriving by Horace's side, the Reverend throwing a pleading look to Loren by this stage.
Michaela felt her fingers grip the fabric of her dress, her hands still clasped together behind her back, humiliation sweeping over her.
"Two-fifty," Horace shrugged, although intending to bid for his new wife, felt he couldn't let Dr Mike go to the likes of Hank.
"Two-seventy-five," Hank retorted instantly, his eyes narrowed in direct competition with Horace as opposed to actually winning Michaela.
"All right, we've Hank on two-seventy-five. Anyone else? Two-seventy-five going once," the Reverend looked desperately between Michaela, Olive, Loren and Horace, aware of there being nothing he could do.
"Two-seventy-five going twice," Timothy continued slowly, amazed that Michaela was managing to stay poised and collected, of course having absolutely no comprehension of the mortal fear running through her veins.
"Five dollars!" Loren cut in smugly, his voice thick with triumph, although his heart in the right place.
"Five, all right. Well, ah, thank-you Loren. Ah," the Reverend felt the built-up sweat trickle down his temples, noticing many others respond similarly.
"That's five dollars going once, twice. Five dollars, sold," Timothy banged the gavel loudly on the lectern, air rushing from his mouth as he heard several individuals exhale in pure relief.
"Knew you'd fix everything, Mr. Bray," Brian rested his arm around the older man's waist contently, the young boy's Cheshire-cat grin locking eyes with his mother immediately.
Quickly jogging across the several yards separating the town from the few remained women, Brian reached for Michaela's hand, pulling her back into the crowd, the tension in the group soon abating.
"All right and finally we have and I'm very pleased to announce, Mrs. Myra Bing," Timothy continued, a small applause going up to congratulate the newly married couple.
"Don't think it's gong to be much of a competition, but you never know," Timothy trailed off, noticing the longhaired bartender fold his arms, settling into the crowd.
"Two bits," Horace opened the auction with a curt smile, Myra waving to him playfully.
"Four bits," Hank coughed, a challenging grin crossing his face.
"Six bits," Horace replied instantly, Myra looking worriedly between the two men, aware of both of their determination.
"One dollar," Hank continued, without missing a beat.
"Oh, boy," Loren sighed, realizing this was going to get nasty.
"One-fifty," Horace nodded, both men keeping their eyes fixed on the other.
"One-seventy-five," Hank began idly picking his teeth with his fingernail.
"Two dollars," Horace rested his hands on his hips, the rivaling men now only several yards apart.
"Ma, Hank ain't really gonna win her, is he?" Brian frowned, seeing the miserable look on Myra's face.
"I don't know, sweetheart," Michaela frowned, wanting to intercede, however knowing there was nothing she could do.
Myra remained next to Olive who had stayed to keep the women company throughout the auctioning process. The young woman's face had dropped, looking up only occasionally as the bidding continued. Turning to Olive, she whispered lightly to her, the older woman nodding with a resolute smile.
"Ah, Revered. Reverend," Myra waited until the commotion had ceased, eventually receiving the Reverend's attention.
"Yes, Myra?" He stood, the gavel raised awkwardly in his hand, trying to keep up with the frenzied bidding.
"I decided I don't wanna do this. I'm ah, quittin'," Myra looked awkwardly between Olive and the Reverend, Timothy sighing, his disappointment quickly melting into relief.
"Well, I'm afraid, men, that the woman has the right to withdraw her participation right up until the highest bidder is declared. So I'm afraid, this auction is cancelled," Timothy watched with hidden contentment as Myra skipped back across to Horace's side, Hank flicking his hair over his shoulder in furled defeat.
"Now then, since that's everyone, If the winning bidders could come up to the front to make payment, I'd like to thank you all for your support and will get back to you with the grand total once we've reassembled over at the hurdy-gurdy," the Reverend watched nervously as Hank, his face contorted into angry jealousy, retreated across the meadow towards the bridge, excited chatter recommencing after several moments.
"Come on Ma, gotta get going," Brian watched as families started the short journey across the grassy meadow towards the specified location.
"Brian, we need to wait." Michaela tried to pull back on his arm, the small boy almost throwing her off balance in his eagerness.
"Aww, it's all right." Loren nodded with a smile, still unsure as to whether Dr Mike wanted to go ahead with this.
Getting in line with the other men, Loren noticed Dorothy make her way over to him. He hung his head, fearing she would be livid with him for not bidding higher.
"Loren Bray, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you'd had that planned all along." Dorothy smiled softly, watching as the usually dignified and composed store owner let his face fall into a warm and tender smile.
"Yeah, well, didn't wanna see her with the likes of Douglas Avery, did I? 'Sides, she don't gotta worry 'bout me gettin' the wrong idea or nothin'. Thought it'd be easier for her," Loren cleared his throat, Dorothy squeezing his arm.
"That was a wonderful thing to do, Loren. I'll see you for a dance later?" Dorothy squeezed his arm.
The older man nodded, his eyelids dropping closed slowly in a calm, sincere moment as he took a step along in the line, watching Dorothy meet up with Michaela and Brian, the three moving away into the distance.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Matthew, are we not joining Dr Mike?" Ingrid reached for her fiancée's arm, jolting Matthew from his pleasant daydream.
"Oh, sorry. Yes, if you want to. I was just enjoying walking quietly with you," Matthew stepped closer towards her, remaining twenty yards or so behind Michaela. Dorothy and Brian watched as assorted townspeople strolled across the meadow.
"No, we walk slower, is peaceful," Ingrid smiled, gazing sweetly across at Matthew, before turning her eyes back in the direction she was walking.
"Thank the Lord that went off without a hitch," Olive, remaining close to the Reverend's side, muttered, helping him to count the money as they watched everyone file towards the hurdy-gurdy.
"Had my doubts though and fancy Hank and Horace taking on each other like that," Timothy shook his head, slipping the money securely into a black tin box.
"I know, we were so busy worrying 'bout Dr Mike, didn't even think of those two. At least it's over and done with now. How much we raise in the end?" Olive smiled, curiously.
"Twenty four dollars and seventy-five cents, if my adding up is correct. I was just hoping for ten to fifteen, so looks like we'll be able to spend a bit more on the costumes. The children will be pleased," Timothy collected the tin and his hat, he and Olive striding across the meadow.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Told Benjamin you'd get more than his ma," Brian remained by Michaela's side, Loren looking awkwardly distracted. By now, everyone had gathered about the dance floor, children perched on fences and couples chatted quietly amongst themselves, patiently waiting for the Reverend and Olive to begin the formalities.
"Brian, that isn't very nice," Michaela scolded softly, becoming somewhat nervous about the upcoming dances. What if Loren really didn't want to dance with her. What if he'd only bid because he felt sorry for her? Letting her eyes drop closed momentarily, Michaela reached for her purse, handing Brian a dime.
"Sweetheart, here. Have some Lemonade," she encouraged, sighing when the boy protested instantly.
"I don't want any," Brian surveyed the significant physical distance he would be required to travel and decided it wasn't worth leaving his mother's side.
"Brian, please?" Michaela's voice was more insistent this time, Brian taking the coin from her and taking a single step in the aforementioned direction.
"You ain't goin' anywhere?" He chewed on his lower lip, his head turning between Michaela and his proposed destination worriedly.
"Brian I will not move, I promise. Just go," Michaela drew a breath, clearing her throat deliberately.
"You didn't need to do that, you know." She waited until she'd received Loren's attention before responding.
"I know. I wanted to." Loren, his gaze remaining firmly ahead, stretched his neck slightly.
"I don't understand," Michaela frowned, trying to study the unpredictable man's expression.
"Well I, I couldn't stand the idea of Hank winning ya, nor one of those ranchers. 'Sides, thought you'd find it easier, if it were, someone older. Stop people talkin'," Loren clasped his hands behind his back, slowly turning his head to gauge her reaction.
"I suppose that's best. Thank-you," Michaela felt the words pass her lips before she realized she had entertained them, the pair meeting eyes respectfully, Loren adjusting his footing nervously.
"Just so's we're clear, I ain't got no trouble with this. I'd certainly understand, if you felt, uneasy," Loren found his tongue brushing over his teeth idly.
"No, I, I would never have agreed if I'd not intended. I mean, I'm fine with it," Michaela felt her cheeks redden awkwardly, a self-conscious smile appearing on her face.
"Right," Loren nodded, Brian quickly running back to Michaela's side, his cup of Lemonade having spilled slightly during his energetic travels.
"Brian," Michaela sighed, ruffling his hair as he pressed against her left side, slowly sipping his drink.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Brian remained settled on the edge of the fence, Colleen standing by his side as they watch the final dance end, rapturous applause ringing out around the dance floor.
"Afternoon." Brian turned, hearing the familiar friendly voice.
"Sully! Where've you been" You weren't here for the auction, or anything," Brian hung his head, having missed the subtleties of the previous night's conversation.
"Here now, though, ain't I," Sully rested up against the fence to the left of Brian, watching as the dancers began to choose new partners, Loren and Michaela turning back to the children, Sully locking eyes with her instantly.
"My turn," Brian noticed Mr. Bray head back towards them, and jumped down from the fence about to take off towards his mother, Colleen grabbing his shoulder tightly.
"Brian, no. You go Sully," Colleen let a small smile appear on her lips, Sully not able to break his eyes from Michaela's, however not quite able to move forwards either.
"I," Sully felt a small hand tug on his arm, looking down to see Brian pulling him gently from the fence.
"Sully, you don't go and Brian's gonna beat you to her," Colleen squeezed her brother's shoulder slightly, managing to restrain the young boy.
Michaela felt her lower arms and hands begin to tingle, watching as Sully moved from the fence, striding slowly, yet determinedly towards her. This was not happening. She let her eyes drop closed for a split moment, trying to calm her breathing, knowing that in a matter of moments his hand would be interlocked with hers, his arm encircling her waist, his face mere inches from her own. Aware of a sudden light-headedness threatening to engulf her, Michaela drew a forced breath, her eyes never leaving Sully's until he had arrived in front of her, as the music for the next dance begun.
No words were spoken between the couple. Michaela felt her right arm move from her side, her eyes drifting from Sully's to see their hands meet. Taking a small step forwards, she was aware of the couples beginning to move around her; willing every muscle in her body to relax, also trying to remember to breath. Michaela could read the nervousness in Sully's eyes, and it did nothing to put her at ease, relief settling in once she felt his arm around her waist. Taking another step closer towards him, Michaela watched her arm settle on his shoulder, before moving her gaze upwards to his deep blue eyes. What, in actuality, probably took only seconds, felt like hours. Every movement of his fingers on her waist and back, every adjustment of his hand in hers, Michaela perceived, trying to rationalize the uneasiness emanating from her chest.
Her attention quickly drawn to the fact that they were not moving, Michaela subtly glanced towards the couples around them. Sully awkwardly lifted one foot and began the first few steps as well as he could.
"You don't mind?" Sully whispered once they'd established a gentle rhythm, moving slowly around the wooden dance floor.
Michaela felt her eyebrows narrow subconsciously, aware of the not-so-discrete gestures and whispering occurring around them.
"I should be asking you that," Michaela replied after several moments, their eyes still locked together, realizing that it wasn't the dancing per se to which they were referring.
"Ain't nothin' changed in my mind," Sully whispered, sliding his hand further around her back, quickly shifting his gaze, so as not to make the moment any more awkward than it needed to be.
Michaela felt the blood drain from her head, his words replaying repeatedly in her mind. Had he really just said that? Did it really not matter to him? No. She couldn't bring herself to believe that. She felt the distance between them narrow slightly, her breath held in her throat, the tingling returning to her arms and hands.
Sully turned his head in the direction they were traveling, allowing her time to comprehend his sentence. Aware of his fingertips gliding over the soft, light blue material of her dress, he knew there was more he wanted to say to her, but now was not the time. He knew from the whiskey incident the fortnight before that Michaela was going to need support and patience, that they had only scratched the surface of her trauma. He knew he loved her enough to grant her all the time she needed. As much as during every moment they were together he wanted to hold her, assure her of his love for her, Sully knew she was not ready for those words. That she had to feel his love by his presence, see it every day in his commitment to her. Words were no longer enough.
Michaela was miles away from reality when she realized the music was ending. Still feeling the warmth of Sully's arm around her waist, she took a desperate gasp, not realizing she'd worked herself into such an anxiety-provoked shortness of breath. Aware of the cool air entering her mouth, Michaela sensed the numbness in her arms and hands once again, everything beginning to move into slow motion. Feeling a dizziness fill her head, Michaela looked downwards, her eyes clouding over slightly, as she realized she was falling, her body sinking underneath her, her surroundings becoming darker and darker.
Sully, watching as the band finished their final notes, about to step backwards and return his gaze to Michaela, when he felt her weight on his shoulder increase drastically. Turning his head around just in time to reach for her, he managed to keep her balanced, both arms gripping Michaela's waist as he stopped her dropping any further.
"Whoa, hey!" Sully moved his head from side to side in an attempt to make eye contact with her.
Michaela opened her eyes after only a few seconds, appearing more weak, than startled or embarrassed.
"Ya all right?" Sully frowned in concern, bringing a hand to her chin in order to tilt her head upwards, seeing the paleness of her face.
"I, I think so, I," Michaela took a few deeper breaths, pulling her head slightly from his grasp, taking several steps to find her balance once again.
"You've just been pushing yaself too hard. Come on," Sully looked back towards the children, fortunately neither had noticed.
Michaela was conscious of his hand still around her waist as they crossed the dance floor, arriving back to Colleen and Brian, absorbed in watching Matthew and Ingrid finish another dance, and drinking Lemonade, respectively.
"Think it's time you all head home," Sully watched as Brian's face fell, in a complexity of relief at Michaela's closeness, and regret at Sully's announcement.
"Aw, but I ain't got to dance with Ma yet. You took her," Brian pouted, Colleen beginning to notice the perspiration around Michaela's hairline and temples.
"Sorry Brian, ya ma's tired. I'll ride home with ya though. Looks like Matthew and Ingrid are enjoying themselves." Sully smiled, slipping his hand from Michaela's back.
"You all right, Dr Mike?" Colleen asked quickly.
"Oh fine, possibly just overdid it a little," Michaela pushed several strands of hair from her face with an exhausted sigh, Brian placing his Lemonade cup down on a nearby bale of hay, grasping his mother's hand firmly as they began the slow stroll from the hurdy-gurdy back towards the wagon.
~.~
X.O.X
Sunday, 20th June, 1869
One Day Later
X.O.X
~.~
"Ma, can we go fishin'?" Brian turned in the wagon, patting her arm lightly to obtain Michaela's attention.
It was early afternoon, and having just returned from Church, Brian was eager for a family activity to top off his already eventful weekend.
"I have another idea, how about a horse ride?" Michaela helped Brian down from the wagon, Matthew and Colleen surreptitiously meeting eyes at Michaela's suggestion.
"A ride? You too?" Brian responded immediately, his eagerness at the chance to take Taffy for a ride anything but concealed.
"Well, I thought Flash was beginning to look a little lonely in the barn, didn't you?" Michaela smiled, looking from Brian's elated expression, towards the barn, Matthew opening the doors to put Bear back into his stall.
"Yup. Just you and me then?" Brian raised both eyebrows, his eyes brightening at the idea of a special outing, just the two of them.
Michaela looked from Matthew to Colleen, each giving concise responses.
"I gotta put Bear away, then fix that loose wheel on the wagon. Gonna take me until supper time," Matthew turned to Colleen, the young girl screwing her face up immediately.
"Was gonna make a pie for supper," Colleen explained, despite the entire family being aware of her nervousness when it came to riding.
"I suppose that's settled, then," Michaela rolled her eyes, watching Brian race across the yard towards the barn, shaking her head as she trudged along behind him, Michaela's ulterior motive behind this outing continuing to formulate in her mind.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Think Flash missed ya," Brian dismounted Taffy, he and Michaela securing the horses to a nearby tree before choosing a clear patch of grass to sit down on.
"I think she did, too," Michaela sighed, having thoroughly enjoyed the ride, although suspecting that perhaps she should have given it another week.
"Want some?" Brian managed to locate a stick of licorice, breaking it in half and offering it to her.
"That's very generous of you, Brian," Michaela smiled, chewing as daintily as possible on the tough candy.
"Ma, you hate licorice," Brian chuckled.
Michaela paused, realizing he was right.
"You said you only chewed it when you did the race with Flash coz you didn't wanna chew tobacco," Brian reminded her, Michaela nodding in acknowledgement, however preoccupied with the conversation she was about to launch into with him.
"Brian, I thought it would be nice to go for a ride, seeing as it's such a lovely warm day, however, there is something I wished to talk with you about," Michaela waited until she'd finished the small piece of candy, before continuing.
Brian rolled over onto his side, his head resting in his right hand, gazing up at her curiously.
"I wanted to talk with you, about the fact that you've been having bad dreams lately and also, about anything else you might be feeling," Michaela trailed off, hoping Brian would catch on and make the task somewhat easier.
"I did tell ya 'bout the nightmares, Ma. The first one you died, then you were goin' away on a train. Then last week was just like what happened when I couldn't find ya at the Clinic. I was running around the town askin' everyone if they'd seen ya but no-one had. You weren't anywhere, Ma," Brian concluded, realizing he hadn't had one in over two weeks now.
"You didn't tell me about that one, sweetheart." She finished arranging her skirt around her, turning to gaze at her son.
"No, I, thought if I told ya, you'd get mad at me and not want to do the auction," Brian frowned, his innocent deceit having paid off.
"I wouldn't have been angry, Brian but I do think we need to have a proper talk about how you've been feeling. I think then, that your nightmares should stop. Brian, do you think you've been acting differently these last few weeks?" Michaela was about to reach an arm to the boy's shoulder, however realized she was trying to dissuade him from physical dependency and thought better of it.
"You mean since you got back? Coz I've been scared about somethin' bad happenin' to ya?" The young boy dropped his head, playing with several dried leaves in front of him.
"Yes, Brian. I don't only mean the nightmares, however," Michaela moved her left hand slightly, readjusting her relaxed sitting position, looking across at the young boy on her left.
"Not wantin' to go to school? You don't want me hangin' 'round ya?" Brian moved his head only a few inches, his voice low and broken.
"Sweetheart, it's not that I don't, it's just, I want you to be enjoying your life, not worrying about me all the time. From what the Reverend has been saying, your classmates are having a lot of fun working on the play at school, yet you don't seem very keen about it?" Michaela wanted to reach across and squeeze his hand, but knew she'd just be contradicting herself if she did.
"I know, it's not that I'm not, it's just, I keep wonderin' what you're doing and then in my head it's like, I see all these bad things happening and I can't concentrate and then I feel really worried and least when I'm with ya, I don't have to worry, coz you're right here," Brian looked up at her, his child-like explanation proving completely understandable.
"I know but Brian, even when you are with me, you're scared to leave my side," Michaela felt guilt having to reprimand the child for a behavior she knew was completely justified.
"The farther away from you I get, the longer it takes to get back," Brian shrugged subtly, unable to put his feelings into the right words.
"Sweetheart, you're going to miss out on wonderful, fun times in your life, if you worry about where I am every minute. Brian, I want you to go fishing with Matthew and to the creek with Steven, just like you always have. You haven't spent much time with Mr. Bray either these last few weeks. I'll bet he's been missing you." Michaela tilted her head downwards, Brian looking up in realization that she had a point.
"But what if I'm not around and something happens," he cringed, however significantly less dramatically than he had in the past.
"Brian, we can't spend out lives worrying about what might happen, we'd spend our entire lives in fear and we'd never have any fun. We'd never meet anyone new or have new experiences. There's lots of exciting things out there that you'll enjoy doing much more than staying cooped up with me. What about, catching frogs?" Michaela giggled, Brian pulling himself from the ground until he was sitting cross legged beside her, his face entertaining the idea momentarily.
"And playin' baseball," he offered, Michaela nodding, impressed at his lateral thinking.
"Exactly. What about, digging for worms?" Michaela scrunched up her face, detesting the thought, Brian chuckling in eagerness.
"Yeah, Lewis loves doin' that. Then he cuts 'em in half and looks at them under the microscope," Brian reflected on the times he'd spent with friends his own age, his mind filling with possibilities.
"See, there is a lot you will enjoy doing on your own," Michaela again fought the urge to wrap an arm around Brian's shoulder.
"I know, Ma. Just, can I tell ya if I get worried now and then though?" Brian moved his gaze between each of her eyes unsurely.
"Of course, Brian. Shall we head home, I should help Colleen with supper." Michaela watched as Brian jumped quickly to his feet, pulling herself up more slowly, her legs slightly stiff and sore from the day's riding.
The pair made their way to the horses, waiting patiently by the tree they were secured to, untying them, Brian climbed onto Taffy in a single swift movement.
"Ma?" Brian frowned lightly, Michaela hesitating noticeably between the horse and the notion of simply walking home.
"I, all right," she shrugged, mounting the horse reluctantly, Brian taking off ahead of her, pushing Taffy into a fast trot, moving into a gallop within seconds.
"Brian!" Michaela rolled her eyes, Flash keen to follow, Michaela had not realized he was going to take her talk about 'distance' so literally.
"Come on, Ma!" The young boy called, Michaela having no choice but to allow Flash into a canter, preparing herself for what was going to be an uncomfortable ride home.