Chapter 73

"Fetch, Pup!" Brian threw the overly mended ball, made of small patches of material, excitedly across the yard, encouraging the eager wolf after it.

"Brian! Not in here," Colleen groused, realizing the ball had entered the chicken coop, when she was confronted with an onslaught of screeching and flying feathers.

"Oops! Sorry," the little boy shrugged, about to jump the small, white-picket fence to retrieve his ball, when the young pup beat him to it.

"Awww, now look! Pup, no! Leave it!" Colleen ordered, standing up and reaching her right hand to her hip so quickly, she forgot about the half a dozen eggs, bundled safely in the folds of her skirt. "Damn it! Brian!" she growled, the eggs falling to the dusty ground, smashing instantly.

"Ain't my fault," her younger brother whined, awkwardly stepping over the fence to try and control his pet.

"Well then you tell me who's it is! Now look! Pup, Pup, no!" her eyes widened as she yelled, the young wolf making straight for the freshly cracked eggs.

"Pup! Pup stop it. Please?" Brian begged, arriving next to the wolf and reaching for the scruff of his neck, pulling him back with all the strength he could muster.

"Don't bother, Brian. May as well let him finish," Colleen rolled her eyes, dusting the assortment of chicken feathers from her arms and skirt.

"Was that all of them?" Brian chewed on his bottom lip, seeing the exasperated look etched on his sister's face.

"What do you think, stupid?" she murmured under her breath, eyes narrowing.

"Don't call me stupid! Ain't allowed!" Brian folded his arms likewise.

"Well that's what you are, and you can just clean up those shells too! I've got more chores to do!" Colleen had just turned around when Brian responded to her order.

"I ain't cleanin' 'em up, was you dropped 'em. You clean 'em up," he pulled Pup back, the wolf contently licking his jowls.

"Was your fault they dropped! Not like you got anything better to do than play, oh, you're such a child," her final words were embellished with significant aloofness, as she strode back to the small gate.

"Am not!" Brian scowled, looking angrily between the mess of cracked eggshells and his sister's departing form.

~.~

X.O.X

~.~

Colleen stormed back inside, closing the door loudly behind her, her weight collapsed against it.

The young girl chewed on a fingernail for several moments, her eyes moving to the dusty floor below.

Exhaling noisily, she let her eyes drop closed for several moments, aware of the exhaustion pushing down upon her shoulders.

Stepping away from the door, Colleen slowly opened her eyes, about to continue further inside the homestead, when she remembered Michaela was still asleep. Gingerly moving forward several paces, the young girl checked that she hadn't woken her.

Michaela had eventually managed to fall asleep, rolled onto her right side, hands nestled under her head.

Colleen shrugged, looking towards her own bed, feeling the gnawing pain below her stomach. Absent-mindedly rubbing her abdomen, she sighed and quickly settled herself against the inviting blankets. Monthlies always had that annoying way of arriving exactly when you didn't want them. And having to conceal such a thing for most of the afternoon on the stage was not easy.

After several moments, her eyes began to hover over the wooden beams of the roof above her. She allowed her mind to wander.

The kids'll wanna know everythin' tomorrow, parents will 'ave told 'em. Brian and me gonna get teased shockin'.

Colleen dropped her eyes closed, and her head began to move slowly from side to side.

Kids are so stupid. Ain't gonna understand anything. She scoffed under her breath without realizing, not like the Reverend's gonna be any use. He's always got God as a scape-goat.

Angrily, she pulled her pillow out from under her head and flopped it over her face.

Why we gotta pay for this? Was Sully's fault. Gettin' Dr Mike involved with the Indians. Shoulda just stuck with the town, knew we couldn't trust 'em.

She caught herself quickly.

Oh, great, now I sound like Matthew. Well, maybe he did have a point. No, it wasn't Sully's fault. Wasn't Dr Mike's fault neither.

A small part of her had to admit to herself that, much as she had condemned her mother's behavior in trying to put an end to this pregnancy, she couldn't deny the fact that she was starting to appreciate why Michaela had felt it would have been so much easier.

But wouldn't I have done the exact same thing? No. I wouldn't have let it happen in the first place. Oh, really? You would have rather've died? Don't be ridiculous! She chastised herself immediately, pulling herself from the bed into a sitting position. I hate thinking about this stuff.

Colleen got briskly to her feet, quietly moving into the dining area and gazing over the contents of the shelves and cupboards.

"Ain't nothin', now that Brian ruined the eggs," she mumbled quietly to herself, giving up on finding a solution to dinner and pacing back outside to find Matthew. He'd have to go into town and get something.

~.~

X.O.X

~.~

Jake sat down in the hard, wooden chair, next to his desk. Stretching his arms back behind his head, the barber sighed.

It was a tired sigh; A sigh of disappointment over a slow day's trade. He'd not had a single customer since just after lunch – and that was nothing more than a shave.

Absent-mindedly opening the top drawer of the desk, his eyes fell immediately on the whiskey bottle. Frowning, Jake fumbled with the cap, before eventually being soothed by the sharp, acidic liquid that washed into his mouth and down his throat.

He pulled the bottle away, the alcohol spilling down his shirt, as he heard heavy footsteps on the porch.

Dabbing at his white shirt and frantically screwing the cap back on the bottle, Jake tossed it back into the drawer.

He arrived to his feet just as Loren entered the barber shop, the older man's feet sliding across the floorboard in uncertainty.

"Loren? If ya wanted a shave, come at the wrong time, haven't ya?" Jake cleared his throat, hands going to his hips. He figured that if he at least appeared gruff and unappreciative of Loren's interruption, it would take the focus off the wet patches on his shirt.

"Ain't a shave I want, Jake. Come to talk to ya." Loren removed his hat, wiping his forehead wearily.

"Talk? Look, didn't we go through this last week? Told ya, was havin' a bit a trouble sleepin'. Been better now's I come to think about it," Jake began when Loren interjected swiftly.

"It ain't about that, Jake. There's somethin' I needa tell ya. Thought it best you heard it from me. seein' as how, well, you've been havin' a bit a trouble lately," This time, it was Jake who cut Loren off.

"What? What's it got to do with me?" Jake's impatience slowly melted into concern, as he began to think about the content of his and Loren's recent conversations. "Is it about Dr Mike? When you said last week, is that it? Ain't she comin' back?" Jake's eyes narrowed, taking a step closer to Loren.

Unconsciously, Loren pulled his mouth into a solemn pout, licking his lips nervously, as he carefully chose his words. "No Jake, that ain't it. Dr Mike, well, the lot a them got back couple hours ago. Came over, soon as I could. Once I settled everything down over at the store," he finished, scanning Jake's face for any glimmer of knowledge.

"Oh," Jake muttered, with a disinterested shrug. "Well, good." He cleared his throat, adjusting his stance nervously.

"You sure no-one's been over here, said anythin' to ya?" Loren probed quietly, surprised when Jake responded with slight aggression.

"No. Ain't no-one been over here in hours. Been a slow day, you don't gotta remind me of it." Jake folded his arms tightly across his chest.

"Weren't meanin' to. Just thought, what with Dr Mike and the children back, was worried," Loren trailed off, his hands beginning to shift uncomfortably between his pockets and his side.

Jake squinted, intrigued more by Loren's awkwardness than his words. "What do I care where she is?" Jake rolled his eyes, in immediate retraction, seeing Loren's disbelief. "I meant, I, I'm glad she's back," he finished uncomfortably.

Loren nodded briefly, his hands digging into his trouser pockets, as he turned and began pacing around in small circles. "Ah," he cleared his throat, his gaze alternating between Jake and the dusty floorboards.

"Loren, you sure you're feelin' right? Why'd you come over here anyway? Just to tell me about Dr Mike?" Jake questioned, his eyebrows lowering as he studied Loren's nervous twitching.

"Ah, no. Well, guess you could say that," Loren brought his left hand to his chin, his index finger brushing over the day's whiskers. "Really expected ya to already know," Again, he cleared his throat.

"Know? Well, maybe if business hadn't been so light, I woulda," Jake shrugged, turning around and reaching for a dry cloth. "What's the big deal though? Don't get me wrong, glad she's back. Now she can go back to being the Doc 'round here," Jake removed the sterilized razor from the alcohol-filled basin, carefully drying it off. "'stead a leavin' me to pick up the pieces."

"I wouldn't be countin' on that at any rate. Listen, ah Jake, didn't want to be the one to have to tell ya this. Ya see," Loren's hands moved from his pockets to the bottom of his vest, until he finally clasped them behind his back. "Dr Mike, might not be able to go back to work," he stated nonspecifically; perhaps he would be able to coax Jake into realizing the truth for himself, it'd save Loren the arduous task of telling him.

"Loren, what are you babbling about? Coz I gotta tell ya, it's been a lousy day. Just wanna head upstairs, have a few quiet drinks and hopefully get a decent night's rest." Jake placed the razor neatly on the cloth and moved across the room to switch the store's sign to 'closed'. "And you're keepin' me from it."

Loren watched silently as Jake paced back across the room, carefully unbuttoning his vest and draping it over the back on the large, red, velvet chair. "Jake, no, I really gotta tell ya. I owe ya that much after everythin' ya been through," Loren paused, Jake cutting him off quickly.

"What are you talkin' about, Loren? Gettin' all serious with me is a worry." Jake opened the small cupboard – just one of many of his secret hiding places – and retrieved the half full bottle of whiskey.

"Aww, Jake, I wish ya'd stop drinkin'. On second thoughts, we both might need it. What I gotta tell ya about Dr Mike. Didn't ya, well, think it strange her just disappearing few weeks back?" Loren watching as Jake carefully unscrewed the top of the whiskey bottle.

"Can't say I gave it all that much thought. Been doin' all I can to stop thinkin' about her, not the other way around." He studied the label, about to bring the bottle to his lips.

Loren drew a deep breath. "Jake I'm worried that what I gotta tell ya will upset ya." Loren reached across to prize the bottle from the barber's right hand.

"Hey!" Jake protested, as Loren surprised him by taking a quick drink. "Loren, what do you think you're do-"

"What I gotta tell you, I need all the help I can get." Loren took another generous drink, before reluctantly handing the bottle back to Jake.

"Well?" Jake prompted, frustrated by Loren's hesitance.

"It's about Dr Mike," Loren began again, Jake's annoyance growing by the minute.

"Yeah, so you've said; About three or four times now," Jake took another sip, his bad temper immediately beginning to dissipate as the warm, sharp liquor flowed into his mouth.

Loren's head dropped, not wanting to see Jake's face when he divulged the news, "She, well, the reason she left,"

Jake had had enough, "Loren!" He put the glass bottle down onto the small table noisily.

"She's havin' a baby," he blurted out, not even conscious of the words he had chosen, "I thought ya oughta hear it from me."

"She what? Loren, you playin' some kind of," Jake felt his throat constrict; his stomach sinking, reality catching up with him.

"Thought maybe you'd heard, what with it bein' so obvious. Thought someone woulda mentioned," Loren locked eyes with Jake.

"No," he confirmed very quietly.

"Jake, I, I didn't think it was possible. Dorothy assured me it was." Nervously, Loren had begun licking his lips.

"I don't understand. What's possible?" Jake shook his head, very confused.

"That she could, well, just say I'd never thought about it." Loren cleared his throat once again.

Jake frowned, his eyes locked on Loren's, as he brought his hands to his face, cupping them over his mouth. His mind began to reel.

"Oh my God," Jake muttered, his voice barely audible over Loren's.

Loren swallowed, the room falling into silence. The distress he saw in Jake's eyes caused him to look away, through the front window, at the assortment of townspeople calmly walking along the street.

After several moments, he turned his attention back to Jake, seeing his hands drop from his mouth.

"Jake, ya alright?" Loren asked slowly.

Jake had to struggle to hear the man's voice over his troubled thoughts. Oh my God, his mind persisted. Why? How?

" Jake," Loren pressed, his voice just that bit louder.

"Right, ah, well, thank-you for letting me know, Loren." Jake rubbed his hands together slowly, before finally letting them drop to his side.

"You sure this ain't botherin' ya?" Loren checked, looking between his friend and the whiskey bottle. If anything was going to send Jake back into dangerous levels of drinking.

Jake followed his gaze, arriving at the same conclusion, "Oh, Loren, ya don't gotta worry about me. Told ya, I'm fine," he enunciated, with just a little too much energy.

"Now, now. Ya don't gotta pretend around me. If anyone'd find this distressin'," Loren spoke calmly.

"No, told ya, it's fine. Really," Jake assured, gesturing to the whiskey bottle.

"If you say so. Guess ya can't do that much damage with just that one bottle," Loren nodded, although pretty certain that Jake had others stashed in various locations around the room.

Jake battled against the sea of questions being fired at him. When did she find out? What's she gonna do? What is the town gonna do?

"Jake?" Loren prodded, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry. Look Loren, I appreciate ya comin' over and tellin' me. Sure am sorry for Dr Mike but ya don't gotta worry about me."

"You sure?" Loren wasn't convinced.

"Be fine. It's a shock but, ain't my worryin' gonna change nothin'," Jake thought quickly for a diversion, "So how's Dorothy handlin' it? Gotta be worse for her, bein' so close to Dr Mike."

"Actually was Dorothy told me, last week, said Olive told her after Sully and the children left." Loren saw Jake's face relax, his concern abating.

"But you said everyone'd know by now?" Jake frowned, wondering why he hadn't yet heard about it.

"Were a few people 'round when the stage come in this afternoon and between Hank and Dorothy, well, was surprised you hadn't heard in any case," Loren finished, carefully redoing the top button of his vest.

"Ain't you got a store to close up?" Jake changed the subject swiftly.

"Guess but you sure ya gonna be all right?" Loren stressed, reaching his right arm forward to grasp Jake's shoulder.

Jake looked down at the unexpected contact. "Be fine, Loren. Ain't me ya gotta worry about anymore, is it?" Jake tilted his head, as Loren dropped his arm back down.

"Suppose not," Loren nodded, "Best go back to the store, nearly time for supper."

"Hey, Loren you goin' to that poker night Hank's got planned for next week?" Jake brushed some hair clippings from the front of his shirt.

"Might as well. You?" Loren turned towards the door.

"Wanted to," Jake began hesitantly. "Just a bit worried," his voice dropped, "been spendin' too much time over at Hank's lately."

Loren nodded, his face neutral. "I know. Hank was tellin' me earlier. Listen, Jake. Do a deal with ya; Stay away from Hank's until next week and I'll go in the game with ya and if ya feel like ya need to go to Hank's, come talk to me. Any time." The older man offered sincerely, their eyes locking once again.

"Yeah, thanks, Loren. Feel kinda stupid tell ya the truth. I mean, I'm a grown man; only little children get nightmares," Jake shrugged, Loren opening the small door across the room.

"Most grown men don't go through somethin' like we did. 'Specially you and Horace," Loren tilted his head to convey his subtle meaning.

"Then why ain't Horace a mess like me?" Jake frowned, folding his arms.

"Just affects some people different than others, I suppose. Maybe Horace ain't really had time to think about it, what with the wedding and Myra expectin', The man hasn't had time to come down outa the clouds yet," Loren contemplated, one hand absent-mindedly supporting his sore back.

"Yeah; suppose. Maybe he just tried to ignore it more, never seemed to bother him in the least," Jake sighed, feeling very alone in the small confines of his shop.

"Between you and me, Horace ain't the type who'd think much about anythin'. Aww, he's a nice enough man and all. Just ain't, well, never has been one to go in for gossip; never talks 'bout his feelin's. Keeps to himself too much, I reckon," Loren tried his best to appease Jake.

"Maybe I oughta try that," he shrugged, following Loren out onto the porch.

"Nah, life ain't as much fun when ya don't got people ya care about, who care about you. My pa used to tell me; 'Loren, ya only get out a life, what ya put into it,' and he's right about that. Seen a lot a people come and go in this town but if ya don't get involved; risk gettin' hurt even, ya also miss out on great friendships. Like when my wife died. Angry as I was, I realized, it was coz she meant so much to me. It hurt so bad coz I loved her so much, and I wouldn't a taken that back for nothin'; no matter how much it hurt, it was worth it." Loren had been surveying the passersby. It was just after five o'clock, and the town was busy with people making their way home for supper.

"I think I get what you mean but sure not like you," Jake took a brief glance in Loren's direction, following his eyes back out to the main street.

"Well, things a changed, ain't they? Reckon I've learnt a thing or two; reckon most a the people 'round here have; know Dorothy and Olive have and the Reverend, even Hank," Loren moved his hands to his pockets, preparing to leave, "And, even though you'll deny it, think you have too, Jake." Loren nodded a quick farewell and began an unhurried pace back to the general store.

Jake narrowed his eyes against the lowering sun, watching until Loren faded out of sight. Maybe he's right. Just wish it coulda been an easier lesson is all.

He turned back towards the small double doors, seeing the bottle of whiskey next to the velvet chair.

"I ain't got a right, drowning my sorrows," he took a quick breath, acting before he had time to reconsider, retrieving the bottle and moving quickly back outside as he opened it.

Dr Mike was right about that at least. Just gonna make everything worse.

He tipped the bottle upside down, exhaling as the contents seeped into the dry dirt of the roadside.

~.~

X.O.X

~.~

"Anyone want more?" Matthew gestured to the large pot on the stove behind him.

"Nah," Colleen shrugged in disregard, having barely eaten more than two mouthfuls of the rabbit stew.

"Dr Mike? Sully?" Matthew offered in turn, Brian getting to his feet eagerly.

Both shook their heads.

"All yours little brother," he sighed, the little boy quickly spooning the remains of supper onto his plate.

"Thanks, Sully. Dunno what we woulda done if ya ain't showed up." Colleen smiled weakly.

"No problem, figured ya'd be needin' somethin'." Sully muttered quietly, getting to his feet and beginning to collect the plates.

Matthew frowned, watching as Sully busied himself cleaning off the plates and carrying them to the basin. He looked across at Michaela, trying to tell whether she had noticed, however wasn't able to catch her eye.

Getting to his feet, he arrived at Sully's side, helping him clean off the plates and cutlery.

"Dr Mike, all right if I go lie down for a bit?" Colleen spoke softly, leaning across Brian, who was consumed in finishing the stew.

"Of course, are you feeling ill?" Michaela studied the girl's face for a moment, observing that she was unusually pale.

"No," Colleen muttered, raising an eyebrow subtly.

Michaela nodded slowly, Colleen not sure whether it was in understanding or disinterest. Silently, Colleen left the table, disappearing through the white sheet.

Leaning forwards, Michaela rested her right elbow on the table, cupping her chin in her hand as she moved her gaze between Brian, Matthew and Sully.

"I don't think you're eating fast enough, young man," Michaela chastised softly, shaking her head as Brian barely chewed between gulps.

"S-sorry, Ma, I," he swallowed quickly, afraid to be reprimanded for talking with his mouth full, "Just, it's real good stew and it was thanks to Pup that we got it," he continued.

"How you figure that, Brian?" Matthew turned from next to Sully's side.

"Well, if Pup hadn't a made Colleen drop the eggs, then we wouldn't a been havin' stew. Would have to of had egg and bacon pie, except there weren't no bacon, so just woulda been egg and tomato pie, yuck," Brian savored the last mouthful, before quickly pushing his chair back and handing his plate to Matthew.

"Ma, gonna go check on Taffy again. Think she's been missin' me too," he announced, departing through the front door in a jog crossed with a skip motion.

He finished helping Sully stack the dishes, intrigued by Sully's odd behavior, Matthew was about to question him on it, when Michaela rose to her feet, and silently crossed the room.

"Dr Mike?" Matthew inquired, for she'd not uttered a word over supper, except if it was to reprimand Brian, or in answer to a direct question.

"I'm going to get some water for the dishes," she replied dully, and stepped outside.

Matthew glared at Sully, expecting him to have immediately objected. Hearing the wooden door close after Michaela, Matthew turned directly to Sully, "What's put you in such a bad mood?"

Sully folded his arms, taking a step back from the basin. "Ain't nothin' ya gotta worry about," he deflected.

"Oh, fine." Matthew's disapproval only intensified, "Guess I'll go help Dr Mike with the water. You don't seem to give a damn," he shrugged, striding towards the door.

Sully merely sighed, looking away from Matthew, down at his clasped hands.

Halfway towards the large barrel of water, Michaela heard the sound of footsteps behind her.

"Sully, I'm perfectly," turning around, Michaela paused, surprised to see Matthew several yards away. "Oh sorry, Matthew," she muttered quietly.

"Dr Mike," he arrived in front of the barrel, lowering his voice, "What's up with Sully?"

Michaela sighed, reaching for the wooden bucket by her feet. She shook her head slowly, "What do you mean?"

"He's been actin' so strange; Left soon as we got home this afternoon, barely said two words over supper." Matthew watched attentively as Michaela filled the bucket with water.

"It's probably my fault, Matthew," she spoke in a disheartened tone.

Matthew succeeded in taking the bucket from her. "Don't reckon so, he was like it when he arrived tonight," he reasoned, interrupted by the sound of the closing door behind him.

Both turned as Sully made his way out of the homestead.

"Gettin' the dishes started," Matthew mumbled, not making eye contact with Sully, as the two men crossed paths.

Michaela, unable to shield her discomfort, walked slowly from the water barrel to cross Sully's path.

"Are you leaving already?" she gestured to the jacket slung over his right arm.

"Yeah, ah pretty tired," he answered awkwardly.

"Sully," Michaela hesitated, seeing the evasiveness in his eyes. "Is everything all right? It's just, you haven't seemed,"

"It's nothin'," he cleared his throat.

Sully still wasn't looking directly at her. She loathed it when he did that. "I don't understand. Is it because of this afternoon, in town?" Michaela arrived in front of him, forcing him to look at her.

"No, Michaela, it ain't you. I promise." Sully took a step closer.

Against the distant sound of crickets chirping, Michaela felt the night breeze blow refreshingly against the back of her neck.

"Sully, where were you?" she asked quietly.

He turned his head, looking out towards the scrub, illuminated by the full moon. "Gettin' supper," he replied quickly, looking back at her with a dismissive smile.

"It took you over three hours to check a trap?" she scrutinized.

Sully dropped his arm from her shoulder, taking a step away. Michaela hadn't realized she'd been leaning back against him until she had to readjust her footing quickly to avoid losing her balance.

"Sully? Where were you?" she repeated, her tone much more demanding.

"Michaela, can we just leave it? Please?" He barely turned his head enough to look at her, absorbed in the dimly lit landscape before him.

"No, we can't. You wouldn't let me get away with withholding anything, so why should I let you?" She folded her arms even tighter across her chest.

"Sully!" she voiced louder.

He turned around, but still did not look at her.

"There's only one place you'd be and not want to talk to me about. What I don't understand, is why you'd think I'd not be able to work it out for myself." Michaela rationalized.

Sully alternated his glance between her and his feet, hesitating before he eventually answered, "Well, if ya know where I was, then don't gotta tell ya," he shrugged, taking several steps away.

Fuming by this stage, she pivoted around on her left leg, arms pressing harder against her chest in anger.

"Sully," she stated, trying to remove all emotion from her voice. He at least stopped walking, although did not turn to her. "In the future, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me be the judge of what information might bother me or not." Michaela tightened her jaw, feeling her back teeth grind together.

Sully slowly brought his gaze around to her, his voice cold, "After everything we've been through this last week, figure it ain't worth the risk. 'Sides, nothin' to do with you," he considered his last statement a slight untruth, however, knew there was little his news would do, but cause her further distress.

"And who's decision is that?" she demanded assertively.

"Mine," he replied succinctly, swallowing and looking away from her. "'Night, Dr Mike."

Michaela frowned as he continued walking away from the homestead, her eyes following his fading outline, until she could no longer see him.

Dr Mike? She felt the trapped air expire from her lungs in an angered huff.

Sometimes he treats me like such a child.

Michaela sighed, dropping her hand to her side as she turned and headed back towards the homestead to help Matthew with the dishes.

~.~

X.O.X

Tuesday, 31st August, 1869

One Day Later – 19 weeks gestation

X.O.X

~.~

"No!" Jake pushed the sweaty blanket away, sitting straight up as he awoke. Gasping for breath, he squinted, in an attempt to confirm his surroundings.

"Just, just a bad dream," he muttered to himself, quickly getting to his feet and crossing to the basin of water against the other wall.

Splashing the cold liquid over his face, Jake tried to regulate his breathing, but was still haunted by the awful images from only moments earlier.

"I, I need to, I need to know," he muttered, eyes darting around the room until he found his robe.

"Need to check," he stumbled determinedly down the stairs, a lantern in one hand.

"There was too much blood. Gotta be sure," he struggled with the lock on the front door of his shop, eventually prizing it open, and stepping out onto the porch.

"Need, need to go check. Need help," the fragmented words poured from his mouth, as he stumbled down the steps to the dusty road.

It was the small hours of the morning, and the streets were deserted; pitch-black but for the small lantern in his right hand.

"Horse, need to find." Jake wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking around confused for a mode of transport.

Oblivious to his surroundings as well as the peculiarity of his behavior, Jake staggered further down the main road. He couldn't feel the cold wind against his face or hands, nor was he aware of the ground under his bare feet.

"Gotta find her, need help," Still he continued, moving his lantern from side to side, desperate to find a horse within reach.

The only thing to stop him, was the light that came from an upstairs window of the Mercantile. Loren.

"Be all right. Loren, he'll help me, he'll make it all right," Jake's troubled, incoherent thoughts continued, and he increased his pace towards the light ahead.

It wasn't until several moments later, when he heard the door open, that Jake knew for sure he'd found help.

"Jake! Jake, what in heaven's name ya doin'?" Loren, a lantern gripped tightly, poked his head out of the door.

"Oh, Loren. Knew, knew you'd help me. Something's wrong, I saw, I. We gotta hurry," Jake rushed forwards, onto the porch of the general store.

"Jake, you realize what time it is? Get back to bed!" Loren ordered, stepping out onto the porch to avoid having to talk too loudly.

"No, ya don't understand, Dr Mike, she, we gotta get to her. She's in trouble," Jake demanded, reaching forwards to grab the front of Loren's robe with his free hand.

"Jake, listen to me, the trouble Dr Mike's in, ain't we gonna be able to do nothin' to help," Loren paused, seeing the genuine horror in his friend's eyes.

"But I saw. We gotta hurry, be too late by mornin'," Jake pleaded.

Carefully reaching a hand to the younger man's shoulder, Loren lowered his voice, "Please Jake, come on, gotta trust me. You just had another bad dream, nothin' more. Promise ya, Dr Mike's fine," Loren kept his voice evenly paced. She darn well better be.

"No, no she ain't," Jake pressed, hyperventilating.

"Calm down, Jake. It's only a dream, ain't real. Dr Mike's at home, with the children. Anything happens, and they can come get help. You don't gotta worry about her, ya hear?" Loren patted Jake's shoulder, gesturing for him to go inside.

Entering the store, Loren relocked the door. He looked over to see that Jake had calmed down a bit.

"Yeah, maybe was only a dream. It just seemed so real, Loren. But I couldn't a seen her. I was at my place, now I'm here; Dr Mike ain't in town, so I couldn't a seen her," Jake reasoned, lucidity beginning to take over.

"That's right, Jake, ya just had another bad dream. Tell ya what come upstairs, will get some blankets for ya. Stay a few more hours till mornin'. So if ya have anymore bad dreams, I can talk some sense into ya," Loren directed the barber across the room and guided him carefully up the stairs.

"Loren?" Jake muttered, in a small, scared voice, "Was only a dream, weren't it?"

"Promise ya, Jake. Nothin' more than another bad dream. But I know one way a checkin'. Ya say Dr Mike was in the dream?" Loren whispered, as they arrived at the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, I could see her lyin' there. Weren't movin' or nothin'. I tried to wake her up. Then saw all the blood and it was too late," Jake held his breath, letting it out finally, in a horrified sigh.

"So ya saw her?" Loren helped Jake into his bedroom, sitting him down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, but she wouldn't wake up," Jake's eyes were wide, as he relived the nightmare.

"Did she look like she was havin' a baby, Jake?" Loren cleared his throat awkwardly, still not having had completely adjusted to the new reality.

"N-no, just looked like her normal self and when I picked her up, was real light," Jake put up no resistance as Loren carefully removed his robe.

"Then, only a dream. Coz I saw her today, Jake and, well, sure didn't look 'normal'," Loren informed glumly.

"Guess, guess it was just a dream. Know you wouldn't lie to me," Jake slowly settled himself back against the pillows, Loren draping the blankets up over him.

"That's right, Jake, you just rest there. Be mornin' in just a few more hours," Loren dimmed the lantern, and took a seat in the chair by the window.

He didn't get any acknowledgment for what felt like a long time.

"Loren," Jake eventually spoke.

"Hmm?" he looked up glumly.

"Wish I knew what was happenin', why I was gettin' these dreams. Sorry for botherin' ya," Jake rolled over onto his side, nestling his head against the pillow.

"I dunno, Jake. Reckon once you stay away from drinkin', will clear up, like last time." Loren yawned, settling himself down for what was left of the night.

Jake nodded to himself, closing his eyes, and forcing himself to ignore the petrifying images that invaded his mind.

"Thanks for helpin' me," he whispered, receiving a tired grunt in response.