Chapter 64
"You don't suppose you're a little young to be thinking about marriage?" Edmund Jr. turned a page in his mathematics textbook. The young man had been attempting to finish his homework, when his slightly older cousin had entered the room.
"Nope," Matthew roamed aimlessly around the large library, occasionally reaching for an expensive-looking book and flicking through it.
"Well, Father says a young man should not even consider marriage until he's been working and supporting himself for at least two years." The boy returned his concentration to the equation in front of him.
"Well been ranchin' for, actually, would be comin' up two years, was doin' lots a odd jobs for a couple a years before that and even before my Ma died, had to help support the family," Matthew reflected, continuing to glance at various books.
Edmund shrugged, scribbling down some calculations.
"What about you, though? Have you got a," he froze, what was the word they used here? "A, er, a lady friend," Matthew cleared his throat awkwardly. Maybe that wasn't even something young people talked about here.
"Ah, no," Edmund dismissed with a weak chuckle of contempt. "I graduate this year, and then am applying for law school. I haven't time for girls," he mocked superiorly.
"Oh," Matthew nodded, picking up very quickly on the young man's coldness. "I see. Best, ah, leave you to it." He pushed the heavy book back onto shelf, and strode across the room, pacing up the hallway, spotting Sully in the sitting room.
"Sully?" Matthew entered the room, pulling the older man from his thoughts.
"Hmm?" He turned around from the fire.
"Mind if I?" He gestured to the large armchair behind him.
"Course not," Sully smiled, seeing the Bostonian awkwardness that the young man had quickly acquired.
"Spoken to Dr Mike?" he whispered, after a long, uncomfortable silence.
"Uh-huh," Sully muttered, folding his arms as he began pacing across the room.
"Yeah, ah, so did I," Matthew pushed his hands into his pockets, wanting to talk to Sully, but not sure if it would be breaking confidence.
"Ya did?" Sully spoke slowly.
"She thinks you don't love her, that you just feel sorry for her. Ain't the way it is, is it?" Matthew removed his hands from his pockets, twiddling his fingers nervously.
Sully stopped pacing, and frowned, the end of the conversation he'd had with Michaela only half an hour before, niggling at him. "Course it ain't."
"Tried to tell her that, says she don't want ya bein' with her just out a pity," Matthew thought over the words that had passed whilst watching the sunset that evening.
"Matthew, I would never insult her like that. I would never be that dishonest." He shook his head and let out a tired sigh. "Ain't stopped lovin' her, either. Would you stop lovin' Ingrid?" He turned the question quickly back on him.
Matthew grew very hesitant, his voice awkward, "She, ah, asked me that. Asked me if the same thing had a happened to Ingrid, if I woulda still felt the same." He rose to his feet, "I stuffed up, Sully. I got all uncomfortable. Well, it was uncomfortable but, she saw that. I, without realizing it, gave her the answer she expected. It was Ingrid, for heaven's sake, don't wanna even." He scrunched up his face in disgust and turned away.
"Yeah, I know. But ya know what, if it really was, ya wouldn't feel like that. You wouldn't feel that repulsion. That's only there to cover the fear at the thought," Sully raised his hands out in front of him, using them to strengthen his words.
"Well, all I succeeded in doin' was confirming what she already thought. You gotta tell her yourself, Sully. I dunno, know it's not my place or nothin', but can't ya ask her to marry ya? Were gonna be gettin' married anyway." Matthew clenched his jaw, almost feeling as if he were begging. If it would save just one raised eyebrow, one joke, one ounce of pain, then, wasn't it worth it?
"Coz it ain't the right time," he paused, allowing the thought to linger, "If we got married now, just be to look like we cared what people thought, just be about other people," Sully sat down on the edge of the couch, and brought his right arm to the young man's shoulder.
"Don't ya think it'd make it easier on Ma? At least with a weddin' ring on her finger, ain't gonna seem so out of place," Matthew shrugged at the suggestion.
"Matthew, if, for a moment, I thought it was the right thing to do, I'd ask her. I'd marry her this minute. Maybe in a few months, maybe in a year then, it will be time, but she's gotta get herself back first. Can't be changin' things this soon. If she's gonna marry me, want it to be because she loves me, because she sees hope in the future we can have together. Not because she's afraid."
"But, you'll make sure she knows you still love her. Like before," Matthew turned his head, locking eyes with Sully.
"I'll try. I don't want her to worry about what I want. Last thing I want to end up happenin' is her marryin' me just because she thinks she has to. Just because she thinks it's what I want. Or because it's what anyone else wants. Has to be what she wants." He gripped Matthew's shoulder in a paternal manner.
"Just make sure she knows," Matthew kept his voice low, yet very strong.
"I will, promise ya." Sully nodded.
Matthew nodded and dragged himself to his feet. "Gonna head to bed."
"Yeah, might as well join ya," Sully headed across the room behind him, both suddenly remembering the sleeping arrangements.
"Ah, Sully?" Matthew shrugged. "Ya don't snore, do ya? Out in the barn, only gotta worry about the horses and ah, horses don't snore."
Sully rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No, I don't snore. Least never been told I do. Anyway, I can sleep just fine on the floor, so won't be disturbin' ya."
"Right," Matthew nodded, more settled by that plan.
~.~
X.O.X
Wednesday, 25th August, 1869
One Day Later – 18 Weeks Gestation
X.O.X
~.~
Loren threw the covers back furiously, hearing the incessant pounding on the door downstairs.
"Someone better be dyin', or I'm gettin' my gun," he threatened, the night air having chilled the floor under his bare feet. Stumbling sleepily down the stairs, he noticed Dorothy had had the good sense to at least pretend to have not heard the commotion.
He crossed the floor of the general store, and pulled the wooden door open, not sure who he would find on the other side.
"Jake?" he announced gruffly, the barber taking a drunken step closer towards him. Loren was able to smell the remnants of liquor immediately.
"Where, where is she?" Jake slurred, still holding the whiskey bottle in his right hand. He was clad in his long johns, with only a thin dressing gown around him. His boots were unlaced and shoved on his bare feet.
"Jake, you're drunk. Go home," Loren groused, his hair crushed from sleeping and the night air making him colder by the second.
"No, no. We gotta get her, gotta, where?" Jake rubbed his red eyes, Loren seeing the genuine panic in his face.
"What are you talkin' about?" The old man demanded, ushering Jake just inside the door, so that he could close it.
"Doctor, Dr Mike," he stuttered, squinting his eyes slightly, trying to establish reality from dream.
"She ain't here, Jake. You know she ain't," Loren quickly took the whiskey bottle from his right hand, surprised when Jake posed no resistance.
"I, I know. We gotta go get her," he rushed on, relieved, assuming that Loren had understood his panic.
"No we don't, she's all right. Sully's gone to bring her back." He placed the whiskey bottle out of sight behind the counter.
"No, he ain't gonna find her, we gotta. We gotta get her Loren," Jake grabbed the man's arm, Loren looking down at Jake's shaking hands.
"No, Jake, Dr Mike's in Boston, remember?" Loren carefully pried Jake's strong, alcohol-aided grasp from his arm.
"Boston?" Jake repeated in disbelief, quickly correcting the store owner, "No, no, the injuns got her. Quick, we gotta go, get her back. Before, 'fore somethin' bad happens," Jake clutched quickly again for Loren, the desperation even more evident in his eyes.
"Jake, you're drunk, or you're dreamin', or both. Listen, that's all over now, was months ago. Dr Mike and Brian have gone to Boston. Sully and the children gone after her," Loren frowned, leaning slightly closer, seeing the sheer, unwavering terror in his friend's eyes.
"You, you promise? Promise she's safe?" His breathing was in short gasps, beads of sweat collected around his hairline.
"I," Loren saw the distress in Jake's face. "I promise everything's all right. Nothin' we can do, listen." He looked around, sensing that Jake was probably dangerously intoxicated. "How 'bout you sleep upstairs. Can sleep it off in my bed, I'll sleep in the chair. Wouldn't, ah, want ya gettin' sick." He patted Jake on the back lightly, guiding him with necessary encouragement towards the bottom of the stairs.
"Up, up here?" Jake hiccupped, blinking several times to orientate himself.
"Yeah, up ya go. Go on," Loren pushed him slightly forcefully up the stairs, and settled him in for what he imagined would be a disturbed night.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Morning, Mr. Su," Rebecca quickly corrected herself, "Sully."
"Mornin' Ma'am," he replied, glancing around the breakfast table. "Am I late?" He asked apologetically as his took a seat, seeing the small amount of food on everyone's plates.
"No matter," Rebecca smiled genuinely, "My husband had an early meeting, and so it's just the children." She indicated Brian, Penelope, Edmund Jr., Matthew, and Colleen who were in various stages of buttering toast or woofing down pancakes.
"Michaela?" Sully asked, as Ellen smiled politely and poured him a fresh glass of orange juice.
"She hasn't been down, yet," Rebecca shrugged, sipping on her hot cup of tea.
"Oh," Sully nodded, not worried, and took a polite mouthful of his drink.
"If she sleeps late, then, it's probably for the best. Wouldn't want to disturb her." Rebecca placed the gold-edged china teacup back on its saucer.
"Ma ain't sleepin'," Brian contested, as he delighted in drizzling honey thickly over the large pancake in the center of his plate.
Sully felt his stomach twist instinctively and glared quickly from Rebecca to the young boy. "Where is she, Brian?" his tone was dark.
"I dunno. I woke up and she was dressed, she said to go back to sleep, and she left." He licked his lips and prepared to slice through the perfected pancake.
"Thought you said we were gonna watch her," Colleen muttered with disapproval from the end of the table.
"Now, there's really no need for alarm, surely?" Rebecca saw Matthew, Colleen and Sully exchanged very angry, concerned glares.
"Let's hope not," Sully pushed the chair back and arrived quickly to his feet.
Matthew did likewise, and Colleen merely rolled her eyes.
"Ya comin', Colleen?" Matthew frowned at her disinterest.
"Nah, it's her drama. Let her kill herself," she sipped her tea elegantly, trying to appear as unemotional as possible.
Brian dropped the fork to his plate, his mouth gapping in disbelief.
"Colleen," Matthew reprimanded, shaking his head. This had definitely gone too far. Matthew pushed his chair back under the table, as Rebecca realized the two men were actually panicking.
"Well, wait a moment. Where on earth are you going?" Rebecca questioned, as they rose from their seats. Sully looked back at her, his eyes cold.
"The one place she'd be." He moved quickly from the dining room towards the entrance foyer.
Rebecca shook her head, at a loss.
Matthew brushed her arm lightly, pausing momentarily. "William's."
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"I assure you, she is not here," William explained for the third time, having been extremely rudely interrupted several minutes beforehand, by an out of breath Sully and Matthew.
"If you're lyin' to me. If I find out you so much as touched her," Sully extended his hand, one finger pointing very deliberately at the doctor opposite him.
"Is that a threat?" William folded his arms, not in the least bit intimidated by Sully's low growl.
"You bet your life it is," Sully felt Matthew's hand on his arm.
"Sully, calm down. Ain't helpin'," Matthew looked squarely at William, sensing the truth in his words. "Come on, ain't any use here."
"Mr. Sully, I know you and I never exactly saw eye to eye." He gingerly ran his fingers over the sutures on his left temple.
"That is an understatement," Sully muttered, freeing his arm from Matthew's grasp.
"But regardless of what you may think of me, you must believe that what I tell you is the truth. Michaela did come and see me this morning," William saw the fire flash across Sully's eyes, "and told me, she has changed her mind," he paused, clasping his hands in front of him. "that she will be returning home, with you and the children. That she will be seeing the pregnancy through," he saw the relief mixed with disbelief in Sully's face.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, Matthew remaining cautiously by his side.
"On my oath," William nodded sincerely, the emotional hurt visible in his eyes.
"Did she say where she was going?" Matthew interjected.
"No, I'm afraid not. I assumed home," he narrowed his eyes, concerned.
"Well she ain't," Sully quipped quickly.
"She left here well over an hour ago. I assure you, she's probably just running an errand," William watched the calmness start to appear on both the men's faces.
"Fine. I, we were concerned," Sully cleared his throat, and backed away towards the large black wooden door.
"Thank-you, Dr Burke," Matthew nodded politely, as the men quickly left.
"Now where? She could be anywhere," Matthew dropped his hands loudly against his thighs.
"I know. Guess we just have to go home," Sully muttered, as if it almost physically pained him to have to say the words.
"William's right. You known women, she's probably just shopping or something," Matthew rationalized, the two beginning a far less hasty journey back to Rebecca's.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"I wanted to come and see you. I didn't think I would," Michaela pursed her lips awkwardly, realizing she was very much alone in the deserted vicinity.
"I've thought of you, many times, but that was not the same as actually being here. I don't know why I thought being here would make a difference, but it does." She interlocked her fingers, feeling the chill in the morning air. Her skin tingled.
"I don't know why I feel as if I'm always trying to seek your approval, even now," Michaela smiled lightly to herself, and looked down at the bunch of white carnations several feet in front of her. "Especially now."
The wind picked up, and Michaela felt the edges of her long, once neatly brushed hair, blow around her shoulders. Pushing the loose strands back behind her ears, she dropped her eyes closed, deliberately withstanding the painfully cold rush of air around her ankles, hands and face.
"I miss you. More now when I am having to question my life. You were always there before, when I didn't know what to do. When I doubted myself, when I struggled. You'd sit opposite me in the study either side of the desk, or, in the lounge by the warm fire. You'd stroke your beard, carefully slip off your glasses, and place them in your breast pocket. You'd clear your throat, 'What is it, Mike?', and there would be this silence. The length of which would indicate the size or complexity of the problem but, you'd never rush that silence," Michaela blinked, seeing the image in her mind fade, replaced by the lifelessness of her surroundings.
"The silence is too long now," she lowered her eyes, watching intently as the wind tormented the delicate petals of the flowers near her feet.
"For months, I've wished I could speak with you, one last time. Ask your advice. Ask if my choices disappointed you. But I can never know now," Michaela paused and for several minutes allowed her eyes to roam around the deserted space of the cemetery.
Silence.
Silence one could hear.
Far away, she could just make out the movement of people. People who had come to the same place as her, perhaps for the same reason: to be with their loved ones. To tell them all the things they'd never had the strength to tell them whilst they were still alive. To ask if they had loved them.
"Why are we always more afraid of what people think of us, than of what we think of ourselves?" she looked back to the cold, stone tablet several yards away.
"Why did I never have the courage to ask you if you supported my relationship with David? Why was I more scared of your disapproval than of my own doubts? What if I've made the wrong choices? I wake up every day and ask myself what if I had married David sooner? What if he hadn't died? Why didn't I marry William last year, when I'd had the chance? None of this would have happened. I even question why I left home in the first place. I think of how my life could be different, how I could be happy, how, things could be perfect again. I can't help but blame myself for letting this happen," she swallowed, her mouth dry from the strong wind.
"If you hadn't died, none of this would have happened. And then I hate myself all the more for blaming you," Michaela drew a calming breath. "I always had complete control over my life, and you taught me that. You taught me to know what I wanted, to set goals; to always strive to a higher standard, and to never, never, sacrifice those ideals. To hold my head up high, regardless of the taunts and criticisms of others." Michaela reflected on her own words; having applied them to all of the decisions she had made: medical school; choice of suitor; leaving Boston; even struggling to establish a practice and a life, in Colorado.
Time remained frozen. There was no sound, no movement. Michaela stayed perfectly still, merely moving her eyes to take in the utter stillness around her.
"I wish I'd been able to ask your advice one more time. I like to think it would be as I have dreamed. I can't imagine you disapproving. After all, you never scolded me for saving Victus," she smiled at the memory.
The wind dropped suddenly. Michaela felt her tangled hair settle down her back.
"You appalled violence, when it was based on hatred or selfishness." Michaela moved her hands down against her stomach, almost reassured by the firmness of her skin under her clothing. "I knew, if I killed this child, it would be based on selfishness. The only reason I was considering such action, was because I so loathed what this baby represented. It wasn't until I realized this, that I remembered violence based on anger and hatred is not what you believed in. Allowing my own selfishness to control this child's fate, is no better than the circumstances under which it was created." Her nervousness wasn't listening to the honesty in her voice.
"I hope I'm doing the right thing," the tears formed immediately in her eyes at her final thought, "I hope you would have been able to love your grandchild if you were alive," she let the tears trickle unabated down her cheeks, "because I'm terrified that I won't."
She breathed slowly, as the tears stopped and her eyes dried.
"I love you, Father. I just wanted to say goodbye," she moved the flowers closer to the headstone, and leaned forwards to run her fingers along the gold-etched writing.
~~ Josef Michael Quinn ~~
1795 – 1867
Loving husband of Elizabeth; beloved father to Rebecca, Maureen, Claudette, Marjorie, and Michaela.
Grandfather to James, Edmund, Emmaline, Thomas, Beth, Harrison, Penelope, Millicent, and Charles.
A goal setter; an achiever, yet a gentle, loving and compassionate, husband, Father, and Doctor.
Michaela tucked her arms back under the olive cape, and, respectfully blessing herself, began the slow walk back to the front gates. As she felt the wind strike up again, blowing her hair around more than it had before, she glanced around at the numerous grave sites; all somebody's loved one. A mother, father, brother, sister, son, or daughter. All these gray stones represented a person's life; their successes and failings; and not just one life, but the entire web of people that had known and loved them. Family.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Sully and Matthew arrived home, slightly calmer, although no more enlightened as to Michaela's whereabouts.
"Well, where else would she go?" Sully ran his right hand through his hair, looking from Matthew back to Rebecca.
"Who knows. A tall building, a bridge," Colleen placed her hands delicately under her chin against the banister, the cynicism dripping from her voice.
"Stop it!" Matthew and Sully turned to her in unison. Brian looked up from beside Matthew with a frown of misunderstanding.
The room fell silent as the tension lingered in the air. Everyone turned at the sound of movement behind them.
"It's only been a few hours. Perhaps we're overreacting?" Rebecca came in from the sitting room, suggesting gently.
"Reckon she's right, Sully. After all, Ma could be anywhere," Matthew agreed, picking up Brian with a soothing smile.
Colleen remained on the last step, her chin resting against the smooth, polished wood of the banister, disinterest slowly melting into mild guilt.
"That's what worries me," Sully muttered, beginning to cross and uncross his arms over his chest, as he paced from the stairs to the front door and back again.
Matthew rolled his eyes. "What I meant was, she could be at Grandma's, at one of her sister's, out shopping. Ain't any point gettin' all worked up." He turned back towards the front door as everyone heard the handle turn.
The expectant silence, as five people held their breaths, collapsed into sighs of relief, as Michaela slipped quietly through the doorway.
Michaela looked up and frowned when she saw the intense worry on the two older children's faces. She stopped moving completely when she saw the utter darkness on Sully's.
"Ma!" Brian exclaimed, as Matthew squeezed him tighter, the young man feeling a cool relief wash over him.
"What?" she mumbled. She was cold and both physically and emotionally drained. Her hair was tangled by the wind; the small wisps of her fringe around her forehead were messy and frizzed.
"Michaela, are you all right? Where, where have ya been?" Sully found his voice, somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He walked across the foyer almost to her side, when he noticed how disheveled she looked.
"I'm fine," she swallowed, and moved towards the stairs, wanting to simply curl up under a warm blanket for the next hour or so.
"Wait up. Where on earth have you been? Brian said you left before breakfast," Sully caught her arm, and stood between her at the bottom of the stairs.
Rebecca and Colleen exchanged glances, seeing the determination in both the adults' eyes. Matthew carefully slipped Brian back to the floor, resting both his hands on the child's shoulders to keep him still and quiet.
"Nowhere," she sighed, and took another step away from him, not expecting him to pose any restriction. Her feet hurt and the amount of attention she was receiving was bothering her.
"What do you mean, 'nowhere'? We've all been worried," Sully gripped her arm more firmly, struggling to maintain eye contact with her.
"Well, there was no need. Now please, excuse me," Michaela attempted to detach from his grasp.
"So, you don't care? Michaela you could have been dead for all I knew, and you don't," he stopped abruptly, seeing the anger in her eyes.
"You don't have to worry about me. I never asked you to. You're not my keeper." She didn't know why she found his 'caring' so controlling. He doesn't trust me.
"At least tell me where ya were?" He let his hand drop from her arm.
"It's none of your business. I'll see you after lunch," she snapped back sharply.
The hard look faded from Michaela's face, when she saw the genuine concern in everyone else's eyes. Her jaw dropped a little, about to voice an obligatory apology, but thought better of it and began the arduous task of ascending the staircase quickly. Although, Michaela being Michaela, ensured it appeared effortless.
The small gathering remained perfectly silent, until Michaela had completely disappeared from view, and only then did Matthew release Brian from his grasp.
"Why ya gotta be so hard on her? She's right, she ain't answerable to us," Matthew watched the small boy clutch nervously to his sister's side.
"You're right. When I get scared for her, it just turns into anger. Always seems to come out wrong," Sully shook his head in frustration at his behavior.
"I'll wait an hour or so, then I'll go talk with her. If anyone has a chance of figuring out what is going on in her head, then I'd rather she yell at me," Rebecca offered, with a glimmer of a tease in her smile.
"Sully? Can I show ya Edmund's train set?" Brian crossed the room, his suggestion an attempt to calm the intense emotions of the adults around him.
"Maybe later, Brian. Just need some time by myself for a bit. Needa think," Sully sighed and wearily retreated to the sitting room.
"Matthew?" Brian raised an eyebrow, turning to his big brother.
"Sorry little brother. Colleen and I gotta have a long overdue chat," Matthew glared at his sister, who still kept a sour expression on her face. "Library." He stated, and headed towards the long corridor, Colleen stepping noisily along the hardwood floors behind him.
Brian sighed and hung his head, idly tracing his feet along the pattern in the rug under him. Rebecca smoothed his hair out for several moments with maternal sympathy, before making her way towards the kitchen to talk with Ellen.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~