"Hurry up there, Brian. We're gonna be late. That horse ain't gonna saddle itself!" Matthew adjusted Scout's reins, looking over at his younger brother who was still dawdling with the young mare's saddle blanket.
"Can't we just ride faster?" Brian shrugged, turning around and reaching for the polished saddle.
"No, got Colleen with us, remember?" Matthew raised an eyebrow, gesturing to Flash beside Scout.
"What about Ma?" Brian struggled with the heavy saddle, Matthew moving quickly to help him.
"She ain't comin' in Brian." Matthew grabbed the saddle and took over preparing the young boy's horse, "you knew that."
"Was hopin' maybe she woulda changed her mind. Matthew? Ma's gonna be goin' back to work ain't she?" Brian fidgeted with the horse's reins, eventually draping them over the pommel.
Matthew sighed, turning to check they were alone. Taking a step closer, he rested a hand on Brian's shoulder.
"I hope so, but I don't know, Brian. Ain't up to us. Up to Dr Mike. I know everythin's been real confusin' for you lately but just the way things are gonna be for a while. Just have to make the best of it. You've got school and your friends. Just gotta give it awhile to settle down," Matthew tapped Brian's shoulder affectionately, as he removed his hand and helped the younger boy saddle the horse.
"What about the other kids, Matthew? They gonna start teasin' us again? Will the Reverend think I was bad coz I didn't go back to school? Coz I missed heaps?" Brian bit his lower lip, suddenly worried.
"No, Brian, he'll understand. As for the others, don't you pay 'em no mind if they say anythin'. They don't understand, remember? Just ignore 'em." Matthew finished securing the saddle, taking Flash and Scout's reins and moving them towards the barn door.
"Guess so, I'll just stay with Colleen and Steven, he won't say nothin' bad about Ma," Brian nodded, more confident. Reaching for the saddle, Brian climbed up on his horse.
"Yeah, see, will be fine. And, Brian, I'll be in town all mornin' seein' Mr. Bray then havin' lunch with Ingrid at Grace's. So, if ya really need me, you'll know where I'll be," Matthew tried to reassure the young boy, however his words had the exact opposite effect.
"What 'bout Ma? She gonna be out here all by herself?" Brian frowned, the two boys walking the horses out into the yard.
"Brian, now don't start that. You just worry about yourself, all right?" Matthew glared at the young boy sternly.
"Well, then, can I go on ahead? You walk with Colleen?" Brian whined, eagerly moving Taffy ahead of Scout, as the homestead door opened, and Colleen emerged, several books in her arms.
"No, Brian. You'll just stay with us. Hey Colleen, got Flash all ready!" Matthew smiled, watching as she walked slowly across the porch.
"Flash? Where's the wagon? I said I don't like ridin'," Colleen sighed, stopping when she saw Matthew's deliberate frown.
"She needs the exercise, and you need the practice. Never know when you're gonna need to ride into town in a hurry or somethin'," Matthew handed her the reins.
"Yeah, with the luck this family's havin'," she rolled her eyes, looking suspiciously at the horse, "You just behave, ya hear?" she bargained worriedly.
Brian's face lit up as he noticed Michaela step out onto the porch, arms folded against her dressing gown.
"Matthew, where am I meant to put these?" Colleen complained, looking between the books in her hand and the horse.
"Here, I'll take 'em. Can tuck 'em in my jacket," Matthew leant over and grabbed the books, throwing another annoyed glare at his sister.
"Fine, and lunch?" she raised an eyebrow, the metal lunch tin in her right hand.
"Just put it over the pommel, like I did. See?" Brian announced proudly, raring to get going.
Colleen sighed once again, hesitantly mounting the horse, "Really, Matthew, couldn't we a just taken the wagon?" she growled in a low voice, pushing Flash into a slow walk.
"No, we couldn't. Just hush will ya?" his voice was lowered for his reply.
"Don't ya tell me to hush, just who do you think," Colleen walked the horse next to Matthew, raising her voice angrily.
Matthew quickly spoke over her, "Go on, Brian, you lead!"
"Bye, Ma!" Brian waved, giving Taffy an encouraging squeeze.
"Slow down." Michaela smiled, as she watched Brian's deliberate, yet amusing performance.
"Yes, Ma," he pulled the horse into a spirited trot, still well ahead of Colleen and Matthew.
"Matthew, why you gotta do things without tellin' me," Colleen groused, the two older children walking the horses behind Brian.
"Leave it, yeah?" he silenced, avoiding any further discussion by moving Scout into a trot, "Gonna get you little brother!" he teased.
"Oh, great," Colleen sighed, her brothers moving quickly into the distance, "Just what I feel like doin', ridin' a horse again." She reluctantly pushed the horse into a gentle trot, Flash more than obliging after many weeks of stable confinement.
Michaela stood on the porch, watching until the three children were out of sight. She turned at the sound of a low whining noise.
Looking down, she noticed the wolf approach from the doorway.
"You miss Brian already, Pup?" She smiled, bending down to stroke the top of his head.
"He'll be back this afternoon. Come on," she encouraged, patting the animal as he slowly walked back inside.
Closing the door, Michaela looked across the room. With the exception of a small pile of plates left over from breakfast, it was spotless.
Moving across the room, she pushed the curtain aside, peering into the children's sleeping area. Even Brian had made his bed.
She sighed, looking back at the pile of breakfast dishes.
Is this what my life is going to be from now on? Michaela slowly started the dishes, pausing every few moments to gaze out through the window.
Drying her hands quickly on the cloth, she began wiping the few plates.
There is nothing stopping you from going back to work, Michaela. She lowered her head as the thought festered. Oh, no? There's everything stopping me. I can't go back there.
Michaela tossed the damp cloth onto the bench and placed the dried plates away.
Without being aware of it, she began aimlessly pacing around the small cabin; from the side door across to her dressing area, around the bed, back to the children's sleeping area. It wasn't until the third lap that she realized.
"This is ridiculous," she murmured, Pup quickly jumping up from his splayed position next to the table and sniffing her right hand.
"Thank-you for the support," Michaela rolled her eyes, patting the young wolf on the head once again.
"I wish I knew why I was so eager before. Why treating patients meant so much," Again the wolf licked her hand. "I don't know if I'm afraid of them, or if I simply don't want to go back. What's the point? Life goes on regardless; people become ill, die, and life doesn't care. It just goes on." Michaela looked from her medical bag on the mantel, before pulling out a wooden chair from the table and taking a seat.
Slowing the horse, Dorothy veered along the uneven path which led up to the homestead. She took a deep breath as she brought the horse to a stop and dismounted carefully.
After securing the horse to the wooden rail, Dorothy took the three steps tentatively up to the porch. She was surprised Michaela hadn't heard her approach. Dorothy frowned, as she neared the front door. Still nothing.
Then suddenly she heard barking coming from inside. Dorothy shook her head, if a wolf was inside, then Michaela must be.
She cleared her throat and gave three sound knocks against the solid door.
Nothing.
Michaela remained frozen to the chair, only moving enough to pat Pup on the head. He ceased his defensive barking.
"Michaela, it's Dorothy," Dorothy stated clearly, pretty sure that there was someone other than the wolf behind the door.
Ssh. Just stay still. Stay quiet and she will go away. Michaela removed her hand from the wolf's head, locking her fingers together in her lap.
Dorothy knocked again, a little louder.
"Michaela? I just wanted to come see how you're doin'," Dorothy beckoned, pushing gently on the wooden door, hoping it might simply open.
Why won't she go away. I don't want to see her. Michaela corrected herself unconsciously, that's not exactly true. I don't want her to see me.
Michaela squinted her eyes closed, not moving a muscle for fear it would give her presence away.
Dorothy sighed when the door did not budge.
"Michaela, please, it's, it's just me," she stressed nervously.
Dorothy turned and quietly paced across the porch, down the steps, and towards the side door.
Michaela hadn't realized she'd held her breath, until she exhaled in a relieved sigh. She's gone. Her eyes opened, expecting to hear the sounds of a horse trotting away. There was nothing.
Pup immediately launched into a series of growls and barks, rising to his four paws, as the door in front of him opened.
Michaela startled, her shocked gasp combining with Dorothy's announcement, "Michaela?" She slipped inside. "I'm sorry, I thought the door might be open. I knew you'd be here," she looked away, feeling guilty.
The wolf's barking abated.
Dorothy remained silent as she closed the door and walked slowly into the cabin. "Michaela, I heard barking, I knew someone had to be at home. Besides, after yesterday, got the impression ya wouldn't a said yes even if I'd told you I was plannin' to come out."
How dare she just barge in here. I don't want her here. I don't want anybody here.
"Then, perhaps that should have told you something, Dorothy. I don't wish to see you." Michaela looked away as she spoke, she couldn't bear the look on Dorothy's face. It was pity. Nothing but pity.
"I understand, Michaela, but I'm your friend. I thought I was your best friend. Surely you know I only want to help." Dorothy tentatively eyed the wolf, waiting until he sat back down, before she made her way to the table, taking a seat in the chair to the right of Michaela's.
"I don't need your help," Michaela spoke flatly, making a deliberate effort not to meet eyes with the older woman.
Dorothy nodded, "I know, Michaela. But I know what you've been through. Olive spoke to me the day Sully and the children left. She told me everything," Dorothy softened her voice, leaning closer, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Michaela shook her head slowly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I, I wish I'd been able to help you," Dorothy continued.
"Well, you're certainly not helping me now, barging in here as you did."
"Michaela, you can't just shut yourself away out here. On your own," Dorothy spoke calmly.
"Why not?" Michaela sighed miserably, "They don't need me."
"That's not true, Michaela. Besides, you've got friends who miss you. Myra was heartbroken when she heard you might not come home, so was Loren. And I need you, Michaela. I miss going to morning tea with you," Dorothy trailed off, the room falling silent.
Dorothy saw Michaela's shoulders rise, her jaw tensing as she concentrated desperately on a nonspecific spot on the wall.
"Michaela?" Dorothy leaned closer towards her, slowly bringing her hand to Michaela's right shoulder. "I know you don't want go through this on your own."
Dorothy watched intently, as Michaela clenched her jaw tighter. Studying her empty eyes, she saw them begin to glisten. Dorothy frowned, remaining silent.
Michaela didn't blink, didn't move an inch. "You don't know anything, Dorothy," she whispered, her voice breathy and constricted. Michaela blinked, a single tear running from her left eye.
"Oh, Michaela, why won't you let anyone help you?" Dorothy stood quickly, moving to her friend's side, placing her hands over Michaela's, on each upper arm.
"Because there's nothing that will help!" Michaela drew a breath, blinking again. Another teardrop trickled down from her right eye.
"That's not true. Your friends, we can support you. Nobody who counts will judge you, Michaela. You don't need to be afraid of that." Dorothy knelt down beside her. Michaela's hands, now interlocked with Dorothy's, fell to her lap.
"You're only saying that. You don't know what it's like; how humiliated I feel. How embarrassed," her voice was thin, clouded by the tears which still collected in her eyes.
"I think I do, Michaela. How do you think I felt every time I came to town? A black eye, split lip; there was always something I had to hide. And having to make up endless excuses, that was the worst. By the end, I knew people didn't believe me; Maude, Olive, I was so angry at both of them." Dorothy became lost in her own memories.
Michaela turned suddenly, looking at the woman beside her. "Angry? I don't understand?"
"Olive never thought I was good enough for Loren. She was glad I rejected his proposal, and Maude, I was so jealous of her. She had everything I could have had; a happy home and a loving husband. But worst of all, she felt sorry for me. All those years, when we were having our children, we'd meet now and then in town and she'd look at me. I knew she knew about Marcus. I knew most people knew. Even you, Michaela. First day I met you, when you examined me." Dorothy smiled softly, "You gave me that same look. So, I know what it's like to feel humiliated. To feel as though everyone's lookin' down on ya. And pity only makes it worse," Dorothy squeezed Michaela's hands softly.
"I didn't want to come back, Dorothy." Michaela lowered her eyes, looking down at the older woman's hands, wrinkled and rough with years of hard work, against her own.
"I know. When Olive told me, I was so frightened for you. I was worried about you, and you were so far away. There was nothing I could do. I understand the humiliation at least. Everyone lookin' at me, whispering under their breaths, wondering why I could stay married to Marcus." Dorothy studied Michaela's face, as she stood from her crouched position by the table. She gently patted Michaela's right arm, as she rose.
"Dorothy?" Michaela looked down, blinking several times as she tried to think of what she wanted to ask.
"Mmm?" the older woman had been about to suggest they have a cup of tea, but turned quickly back to her friend's side.
"How, how did you? Love him, I mean? How did you not hate him? I never understood that," Michaela whispered.
Dorothy paused, to think of a truthful answer.
"I suppose, I separated who he was. Almost made him into two different people. I loved the man I'd married, that was the father of my children, and then there was another side to him. I only saw that side when he'd been drinking. I knew they were the same person, but I found a way to forget about the bad side of him when he was sober. I spent so many years convincing myself that the man who could cause me so much pain, was not the same person I'd married – that I almost came to believe it myself." Dorothy watched Michaela take in her words, realizing after a moment that she had an ulterior motive behind her questions.
"I think my sister was trying to explain the same concept to me," Michaela looked up at Dorothy with a grateful smile.
"I don't understand? Michaela, we knew you'd gone to Boston, but seeing your family was the last thing any of us," Dorothy took a seat again.
"I hadn't planned to, I," she looked away, remembering the sequence of events that had taken place in such a short period of time. "I ended up in hospital. It was Brian who asked that my eldest sister be contacted." Michaela's eyes began to glaze over at the memory.
"Michaela, that must have been just awful," she stated honestly.
"No, actually it wasn't so bad. Rebecca and I have always been very close. Closer than Mother. And she was discrete. I stayed with her until Sully and the children arrived. I don't know how they found me," Michaela inhaled sharply, remembering the nauseating scent of the chloroform. "But I'm glad they did," Michaela swallowed, wiping her moist eyes.
"But what about your family? You said they wouldn't understand. That it was different?" Dorothy clasped her hands together in her lap.
"The way events unfolded, I didn't have any choice. By the time I regained consciousness, the doctors already knew. Rebecca had arrived and they'd informed her of my condition. Since she knew that, it didn't seem to matter what else she knew. Brian told her." Michaela shook her head, almost amused, in a cynical way, as she reflected on the series of events.
"Brian? Michaela, he's so young, how does he understand?" Dorothy looked momentarily horrified, quickly recalling the conversation she'd had with the boy many months earlier.
"Sully said you told him." Michaela looked up, her tone soft.
"Well, I, I tried to explain. Michaela that was months ago, how could he possibly," Dorothy stopped at Michaela's raised eyebrow.
"Brian is one very intelligent little boy, Dorothy." She shook her head dismissively, "It doesn't matter, it's best he knows the truth. Ignorance only makes him more vulnerable." Michaela dropped her eyes closed wearily for a moment.
Quickly, Dorothy decided to redirect the conversation. "I figured you'd have a lot to do out here, and Loren's insistent I spend some time with you. So, what needs to be done?" Dorothy clapped her hands together, eager to get down to work.
"I," Michaela looked around, shaking off the conversation, "There's quite a bit of washing and cleaning to be done. I suppose I was going to start there," she shrugged, as Dorothy rose quickly to her feet.
"That's settled then. Shall we? And then I'll fix us some lunch, you can take a nap. What else do you," Michaela cut her off.
"Dorothy, I'll accept your help on one condition." Michaela waited for a quick nod, "that you don't treat me like an invalid for the four months. I spent the last week being mollycoddled and waited on; it's the last thing I want here."
"Can we strike a compromise, Michaela? I won't harp if you'll promise to take a rest when you need it?" Dorothy bargained as Michaela rose to her feet.
Michaela nodded, gesturing towards her dressing area. The odd utterances passed between them, as they moved about the small homestead, collecting various items of clothing.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Afternoon, Grace," Myra smiled, as she looked around the crowded tables of the café.
"Just you today?" Grace enquired directly, her voice sharp.
"Well, I guess so. Horace's busy workin', was hopin' Dorothy'd be here," Myra scanned the tables yet again.
"Heard she's out at Dr Mike's. 'Least that's what Loren mentioned this mornin'. You gonna take a seat or ain't ya?" Grace demanded, keeping an eye on the steaming vegetables behind her.
"I suppose," Myra muttered, Grace about to show her to a table, when the younger woman had a change of heart. "Actually, Grace, I might leave it. There's someone I gotta go see first," Myra apologized, moving quickly away from the tables.
"I wouldn't go botherin' Dr Mike, if that's what ya had in mind," Grace warned, her voice acquiring a bitter edge.
"Weren't gonna, why'd you say it like that?" Myra frowned, confused.
"Matthew," Grace indicated to the couple finishing their lunches at the far table, "Apparently Dr Mike ain't ready to head back into town. Said he don't know when she'll be goin' back to work," Grace moved quickly back to the vegetables, which were threatening to boil over.
Myra looked between Matthew and Grace, before deciding to continue the conversation. Arriving next to Grace, she lowered her voice, "Grace, you heard, didn't ya? I mean, about yesterday. About Dr Mike?"
Grace, two plates of roast beef in her hands, interjected harshly, "heard she's back," she scurried away to a nearby table, ensuring her customers were content, before walking back to the stove.
"That all you heard?" Myra fidgeted with her hands, first in front of her, then behind. She didn't abide gossip, but then this was different.
"Well, Myra, I do have a business to run, ain't got the time to just stand around chattin', like some," Grace barely glanced back to Myra, as she quickly sliced a loaf of bread.
"No Grace, this is important. Didn't Robert E. tell ya?" Myra continued.
"What on earth could Robert E. have to tell me that was so important?" Grace spooned the hot vegetables onto the plates, placing the sliced pieces of bread on the edges.
"Thought he woulda told ya 'bout Dr Mike. After all, he looked more upset than anyone else," Myra shrugged, expecting Grace to dismiss her hastily.
Grace turned her head away from the plates, to glare up at Myra, "He ain't said more than two words to me all night. Tried askin' what was wrong, thought maybe he was gettin' sick. Wouldn't talk to me." Grace maintained eye contact with the younger woman.
"He's probably real upset. Horace was the same all evenin'. Kept lookin' at me, then lookin' away, thought I didn't notice. It's coz a Dr Mike, Grace. Coz a her havin' this baby. Reckon they all feel responsible somehow. Between Robert E. and Horace, reckon they're more upset than we are," Myra sighed sadly, assuming that Grace knew.
"What, baby?" Grace said the word awkwardly, the subject a little too close to home for her, especially knowing that the woman standing opposite her had also had her dreams fulfilled so easily.
Myra merely turned her head slightly, not sure where to look. "You ain't heard, did ya?" she muttered flatly.
"The last I heard anyone talk about a baby was when you and Horace were here for lunch yesterday," Grace looked back at the four lunch plates, about to reach for them, when Myra continued.
"That's why she left, Grace. Didn't no-one know. She's at least a month further along than me and, well, can't exactly hide it any longer. Just thought you'd a heard about it yesterday. That's probably why Dorothy's out there this mornin'. Apparently, Dr Mike didn't take all the attention too well, yesterday and from what Horace said, don't sound like she's ready to leave the homestead, yet." Myra watched, as Grace's bitterness and impatience melted away, her mouth opening in disbelief.
"But, she's gotta be nearly five months. Must've known for ages," Grace brought her right hand to her mouth as she looked up, and then slowly back to Myra. "Dear God, and all I've been goin' on about is how unfair my life is. What did she leave for, anyway?" Grace managed to recover from the shock, resting her right hand on her hip.
"No-one's really discussin' it, but I heard from Dorothy that," Myra trailed off for a moment, seeing the tables full of townspeople. She looked back at Grace, deciding the specifics should best be kept to herself, "that, she ah, had to see a doctor. You know, make sure everythin' was all right," she recovered quickly, and from the serious look on Grace's face, she'd not suspected anything from her quick stuttering.
"Oh, I see," Grace nodded, as she turned and reached for the plates yet again. She blinked, looking down, and then turned quickly back to Myra, as if complete understanding had just set in. "Oh, Lord, what's gonna happen? With the baby I mean? She ain't gonna keep it, surely?" Grace's eyes widened, as her gaze locked onto Myra's.
"Really, I don't know, Grace. Ain't even spoken to her about it, coz none of us found out till after she'd gone. From what I heard, she's takin' it real bad. Guess anyone would. I wouldn't expect she'd keep it. I can only imagine what it'd be like. I'm whinin' to Horace enough as it is. At least I've got him to blame," Myra sighed, lowering her gaze miserably.
"It's just such a horrible mess." Grace looked around at the townspeople seated nearby, noticing one man get to his feet when he saw her, "I'm just comin', sir!" Grace turned quickly back to Myra. "I'm sorry, gotta get back to servin'. I'll take some supper 'round for Dr Mike and the children tonight. Of what help that'll be," Grace shook her head, as she reached for the plates and nodded a goodbye to Myra.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"All right, children, does anyone have any more suggestions for the events on Sunday?" the Reverend looked around the classroom as he spoke, paying particular attention to Brian and Colleen, who had been exchanging glances all morning.
"Do we have a three-legged race?" Steven spoke up, eagerly.
"Ah, yes, we do," the Reverend looked down at the piece of paper in his hands. "Have you another idea, instead, Steven?" he encouraged.
"Hmm, how about something, where we try to jump and far as we can? And the person who can jump the longest wins," he shrugged.
"Excellent, Steven. That makes eight events. That should be plenty. Now, do you think we should have some special events for your parents? Missy, what do you think?" Timothy had noticed Missy and Alice whispering in the back row, and quickly drew attention to them.
"Oh, ah, I don't know, Reverend. My Ma ain't really keen on sports. Maybe we could get the pa's to do wood choppin'? My pa thinks he's real good at that," Missy talked her way out of trouble.
"That's a very good idea, Missy. Perhaps if you weren't talking so often in the future, we'd hear more of them," the Reverend made his point, realizing it was well and truly time for lunch.
"I think that's an excellent list, children. So we'll break for lunch now, and go through our new spelling list this afternoon," Timothy leaned back against his desk, watching in fascination as the children scrambled to varying degrees for the back door. He was always intrigued at how much he could deduce about a particular child, from their behavior outside of formal class times.
As predicted, Benjamin and Cal raced for the door, Alice stood, and summoned her small group of friends around her, with nothing more than the simple raising of her eyebrows.
Becky and Colleen closed their books and wiped down their slates, neither in a hurry to move outside. The one child however, to catch the Reverend's attention on this particular day, was Brian. Instead of eagerly pushing his way towards the door, with Steven in tow, the young boy watched as his friend hurried outside, before quietly wandering over to his sister. They exchanged words briefly, before both girls, and Brian moved towards the door.
The Reverend shook his head slowly, remembering Olive's conversation from the previous week. With a tired sigh, he turned and collected his lunch from his desk.