"Dr Mike?" Sully cleared his throat, taking the seat beside her at the café, surprised when she didn't respond. Now able to see her face, cupped in her left hand, Sully smiled, noticing that her eyes were dropped closed, her right hand resting weakly around the fork next to her on the table.
"Michaela," he tried again, hoping that he'd be successful on a second attempt.
Her shoulders rose tensely and eyes immediately sprung open, she sat back, turning slightly dazed to realize it was Sully who had woken her.
"Mornin'. Nice sleep?" He smiled, nodding to Grace in gratitude when she brought him a fresh cup of coffee, refilling Michaela's also.
"I didn't?" she replied, somewhat embarrassed, quickly looking around to ensure no-one else had seen her.
"'Fraid so." He eyed the uneaten piece of blueberry pie in front of her with intense desire.
"Brian's been having nightmares this past week. Last night he ended up so terrified he couldn't sleep for the next three hours," Michaela reached forward to take several sips of the strong black coffee that had been freshly poured.
"I see, anything specific or just the general kind?" Sully, recalling Cloud Dancing's advice concerning dreams queried, once again looking between the slice of pie and Michaela's drained expression.
"Seems to be me, actually," Michaela noticed Sully's preoccupation with the food in front of her, quickly pushing the plate towards him.
"Thanks," Sully quickly dug the fork into the piece of pie, picking up from Michaela's last phrase. "You?" he queried, the word muffled as he began chewing on his first mouthful.
"Yes. That I've died, or left him," Michaela continued, watching with silent awe as Sully devoured the large slice of pie within three mouthfuls.
"Cloud Dancin' would say that dreams are the spirits telling us of the past, or the future," Sully replied, although quickly following his thought through and regretting it.
Michaela took several moments longer to process his words, turning to him in unimpressed shock.
"What are you saying, that I'm going to die?" Michaela raised an eyebrow, Sully's jaw dropped, as he furiously attempted to rephrase his previous statement, both however, being drawn from their concerns by Jake's urgent call from the street.
"Dr Mike! Dr Mike!" Michaela and Sully rose immediately, running up the alleyway beside the Clinic, being greeted by a crowd of townspeople surrounding a wagon.
"You gotta hurry, Dr Mike, one of Olive's ranchers, got trampled, he's hurt bad," Jake, his breathing strained, arrived by the wagon, Dr Mike and Sully by his side.
"Help me," Michaela turned to Sully instantly, he assisted her to perch awkwardly on the back of the wagon, pulling at the young man's shirt and beginning to assess his injuries.
"When did this happen?" Michaela looked around, Olive having arrived at the foot of the wagon by this time.
"'Bout, bout half an hour ago. Got here quick as we could. Was awake up until 'bout five minutes ago.
"He's got several fractured ribs, most likely internal bleeding," Michaela began to palpate the man's abdominal cavity, relieved when the cowboy started to regain consciousness.
"Just lie still. You're badly injured, we're going to take you inside," Michaela reassured the young man, continuing to carry out her preliminary examination.
"Get your hands, off a me," The cowboy quickly took in his surroundings, moving against Michaela's touch.
"Just relax, I know it hurts. I just have to see where the damage is," she attempted to calm him down. Jake, Olive, Loren and Sully moved in closer, the other townspeople trying to observe from a distance.
"I, I mean it, don't want no injun whore touching me! Get her off a me, I tell ya, get her off!" The young, blond-haired cowboy continued squirming from Michaela's side, despite being in agonizing pain.
Michaela, her hands falling away from the boy's torso to her lap, looked up speechless, meeting eyes with Jake Slicker of all people. Sully, barely aware of his actions, mounted the other side of the wagon, looking as if he was physically going to attack the boy. Jake, resting a hand on Sully's shoulder quickly to calm him, leant over towards the cowboy his voice gruff and defensive.
"Now you listen, Jeff, you're gonna die lessin' you let Dr Mike treat you. So just keep that shut!" The barber pointed his right hand squarely at the boy's mouth, Jake's eyes narrowed in deadly seriousness.
Michaela, too nervous by that stage to continue, crawled uneasily to the end of the wagon, slipping slowly to the ground, turning to address Jake.
"Get him inside, I'll, I'll give him something for the pain, until I can examine him properly." Michaela brushed her hands against her skirt, more as an excuse to avoid the uncomfortable glances from the townspeople.
Jake took control, organizing for the boy to be carried into the Clinic, Sully arriving by Michaela's side, looking between the slowly dispersing crowd to Michaela's impassive expression. Approaching her very slowly, he waited until she was aware it was just the two of them, her head still lowered, her fingers clasped against her waist in front of her.
"Michaela, don't listen to him. It ain't true what he said," Sully dropped his eyes, waiting for Michaela to acknowledge his words.
She looked between the tips of her fingers idly fidgeting with her belt buckle back down to the ground, before eventually returning her gaze upwards, however not meeting Sully's eyes.
"You know it is true," Sully could barely hear the words pass her lips, their meaning not sinking in until Michaela had crossed the short distance to the Clinic porch. Sully sighed, noticing Michaela take a deep breath, disappearing inside away from his view.
He stood, looking around the street, watching as people resumed their previous activities, Sully unable to shake two thoughts from his mind: She truly thinks I believe that? She believes it about herself?
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Michaela dried her hands quickly on the nearby towel, closed the lid of the instrument case, and glanced around the room, checking that everything had been returned to its proper place.
"Dr Mike?" Sully tapped lightly on the door behind her before entering, ensuring they were alone.
Michaela turned, an eyebrow raised in inquiry, Sully closing the door, however remaining at an awkward distance.
"Was there something you wanted?" She was at a loss as to his presence, her patience being tested by his continued silence.
"Want to talk to you 'bout before," Sully moved to the other doorway, leading to the corridor, making sure more thoroughly that no-one was around.
Michaela remained silent, however quickly busied herself collecting the dirty gauze and cloths from around the room, before pulling the top sheet from the examination table, piling it together with the other items that required laundering.
"Dr Mike, before, what you said," Sully was unable to determine how to obtain her attention, for a month ago he merely would have rested a hand on her arm.
"I really have to finish this before the children are dismissed from school," Michaela continued refitting the crisp white sheet to the examination table, looking around the room desperately for her next task.
"You are finished," Sully gestured to the spotless room surrounding them.
Michaela idly smoothed the sheet out in front of her, now at an utter loss for an excuse.
"I just didn't want you thinkin' what was said out there was true. You know that's just some lad don't know any better. You know nobody really believes it. Dr Mike?" Sully watched as she fussed over the corners of the sheet around the table, with no intention of responding to his words.
Crossing the room several paces, Sully was only several feet from her, when she turned, quickly, taking a step backwards, away from him.
"I, please, just talk to me," Sully managed to meet her eyes, Michaela at least not looking away this time.
"If you'll excuse me, I've a patient to check on," Michaela repeated after a beat, Sully not convinced she had even heard his words. Standing stationary in the middle of the examination room, Sully followed her every movement with his eyes, until she had once again disappeared into the corridor.
Hearing Michaela's evenly-paced footsteps as she ascended the stairs, Sully raised his head, titling it backwards slightly as he gazed up at the ceiling, trying to combat the helplessness welling up inside of him.
~.~
X.O.X
Monday, 31st May, 1869
Three Days Later
X.O.X
~.~
"We won't be disturbed here. Think Benjamin's learnt his lesson," Becky gestured to a thick green patch of grass behind the schoolhouse, she and Colleen taking sitting down quickly, taking out their lunches to eat.
"Yeah, he certainly has been on his best behavior, ain't he? Don't think Brian coulda taken much more," Colleen stared at the sandwich held in her right hand, breaking small pieces of the crust off unenthusiastically.
"He's sure been quiet these last few days. not raisin' his hand. not even wantin' to help with the play, neither," Becky began chewing on her sandwich, waiting for Colleen to respond.
"He's been havin' bad dreams, keeping everyone up every second or third night, actin' out, bein' a right pest," Colleen hated to speak badly of her younger brother, however was quickly tiring of his tantrums and clinginess.
"That coza Dr Mike?" Becky frowned, Colleen continuing to pick at her lunch.
"Guess so, won't leave her side, won't listen to a word I say. I try to get him to do something, runs straight to Dr Mike, acting like he's the only one who's findin' it tough," Colleen sighed, glancing over at Becky for reassurance before taking the first actually bite from her sandwich.
"What does Dr Mike, say?" Becky questioned, seeing the exhaustion in Colleen's eyes.
"She's lettin' him get away with it! Even though he knows exactly how to worm his way 'round her. I don't get it! She never used to be that soft on him. Readin' to him, tellin' him stories until all hours of the night, even lettin' him sleep with her," Colleen shook her head in exasperation, beginning to feel thoroughly taken for granted.
Becky raised her eyebrows slightly, never having thought of Dr Mike as an easy parent, and certainly not over the past few weeks.
"I woulda thought she'd be tougher on you all, like, in a bad mood all the time or something," Becky pondered, trying to reconcile Colleen's depiction with her own expectations and that of her family.
"Nah, just fussin' over Brian. Tryin' to do too much, She's just pretty quiet mainly. Not really what I expected. Thought she'd be cryin' and stayin' in bed," Colleen lowered her head, her thoughts divided between needing someone to talk to and not really wishing to dwell on the horrendousness of the matter.
"Maybe you oughta talk to Miss Olive or someone. See if they can help?" Becky reached for Colleen's left hand, sincere in her loyalty if not overly helpful.
"Maybe. Just feels like it ain't right," Colleen breathed out very slowly, her tiredness evident in the sinking of her shoulders. "As if Dr Mike's tryin' to pretend it didn't happen."
~.~
X.O.X
Thursday, 3rd June, 1869
Four Days Later
X.O.X
~.~
"Didn't I tell ya to leave well enough alone? You're telling us men not to banter amongst ourselves and here ya all are, doing the same exact thing," Loren, his hands rested securely on his hips, approached Dorothy, Olive and Grace in the corner of the store, the three huddled together under the guise of leafing through recipe books.
"Ain't the same thing at all, Loren. We're showin' concern," Dorothy defended quickly, slipping the recipe book back onto the shelf, now that their little diversion had been discovered.
"Showin' concern, huh? Meddlin' more like," Loren muttered under his breath, turning back to rearrange stock on the shelves.
"So, we absolutely certain she still ain't said a word to nobody?" Olive queried, looking between Grace and Dorothy, her eyes moving sharply.
"Like a said, nothin' since before Dr Cassidy was here. When I tried to ask her couple of weeks ago, she nearly took my head off. Said she just wanted to go on with her life," Dorothy quoted Michaela's words precisely, as only a journalist could.
"That's Dr Mike, all right. Just like her to keep everything all bottled up. Maybe it's time for us to take matters into our own hands?" Olive contemplated, Grace looking across at her doubtfully.
"That's just some folk's way of coping. If she don't wanna talk, then ain't right us trying to make her. 'Sides, I'm more worried about those children. Colleen's got nobody helpin' her with chores or nothin', and little Brian," Grace trailed off, Dorothy quickly picking up from her.
"Brian's been clutching to her like a bee to honey. Maybe Grace's got a point. Poor boy's been havin' nightmares, missin' school. Michaela's probably just too busy frettin' over him. She'll come 'round, 'sides Olive, you of all people oughta know, she'll just push against us harder we try and make her face somethin' she ain't ready to," Dorothy gave Olive a slightly sly look.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Olive frowned, her left hand instinctively going to her side in confrontation.
"Oh, please, you're just as stubborn as Michaela. If you're that desperate to make her talk, you do somethin' 'bout it," Dorothy nodded, her face quickly melting into a curt, yet polite smile, as she departed from the pair.
"She told you," Grace returned, placing just enough edge on the second word, to remove any harshness from her statement.
Olive remained where she was, Grace pacing towards the counter to pay for her groceries. Olive's face stayed slightly aghast for several moments, a mistake of shock and contemplation plastered across it.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Michaela, her head propped up in her right hand, blinked, attempted to read the same sentence for the third time in a row, still not comprehending it. Although having seen a few patients that morning, she'd soon run out of cleaning and reorganizing, and was now trying to absorb herself in a newly arrived medical textbook.
Idly flicking the page between the index finger and thumb of her left hand, Michaela realized trying to distract herself in something she had no interest in, was not going to work. Reflecting on the last few hours, Michaela found herself concerned with Brian's continual nightmares, not knowing how best to help him. That morning had been an eventful one; Brian, had again been searching once again for any small, trivial reason to avoid attending school. Although she'd managed to get him into town, Brian had physically opposed Matthew's attempts to remove him from Michaela's side, the young boy kicking wildly at his brother as he was lowered from the wagon to the grass of the meadow.
Despite there being little in the way of child psychiatric literature, Michaela crossed the room, beginning to sort through the array of journals and books before finding one she thought might be of benefit. Taking a seat delicately once again, Michaela was just about to open the book when the Clinic door flew open beside her, causing her to startle and the book fall heavily to the desk below.
"Michaela, you gotta come quick," Hank caught his breath quickly, the look of unmitigated fear in his eyes drawing her immediately to her feet, fetching her medical bag from the examination table as she rushed behind him out onto the main street.
"What's happened?" she tried to question, one hand grasping her bag, the other keeping her skirt raised just enough to avoid tripping on it as she ran behind the bartender to the porch of the Saloon.
"One of my girls, Suzie," he trailed off, Michaela slipping through the French doors into the Saloon, Hank directing her back to the corridor, Michaela noticing the assortment of men and girls crowded around.
"Clear off! Ain't nothin' to see here!" Hank bellowed, helping Michaela advance her way through the crowd, Myra in the ajar doorway waiting for her.
"Oh, Dr Mike, you gotta do something. She's all cut up like," The petite brown-haired woman grabbed the physician's arm, pulling her into the room, Michaela barely having time to catch her breath as she was confronted with the disturbing scene before her.
Suzie, a young woman of a similar age to Myra, however with striking blonde hair, lay, barely moving on her bed. Blood ran from a nasty cut on her forehead, a split lip, and what was left of her clothing was torn and stained with drops of blood from her mouth and head.
"Had this fella, said he seemed real aggressive, like, but he'd paid Hank so she didn't have no choice," Myra reached her friend's bedside, trying to comfort the traumatized young woman.
Michaela stood motionless for several seconds, longer than she needed to take in the extent of the girl's physical injuries, her eyes drifting from the assortment of clothing strewn around the floor and bed, to the bruising appearing on Suzie's upper arms and left cheek.
"Dr Mike?" Myra's simple call was enough to draw Michaela to the side of the bed, immediately attending professionally to the girl, placing a compress firmly over her forehead.
"Suzie? Suzie, you gotta show Dr Mike your chest," Myra prompted, Suzie moving her hand slightly, in indication, towards her torn chemise.
Michaela gingerly leant across the girl to push the remnants of the garment from her shoulder, feeling her stomach drop and her hands go numb as her eyes locked onto the lacerations and scratches covering the woman's upper body.
"He cut her, Dr Mike," Myra added, her words communicating disbelief as opposed to confirming what was a more-than-obvious fact.
Drawing an effortful breath, Michaela began dabbing the blood from Suzie's chest, able to determine that the lacerations were not as severe as first expected and therefore did not require suturing.
"Is it bad, Dr Mike?" Myra asked, an arm resting on Suzie's shoulder as Michaela checked that the bleeding to the young woman's forehead had ceased.
"She'll be all right, Myra," Michaela replied briskly, satisfied that the damage to Suzie's chest was also relatively superficial.
Reaching across to her bag once again, Michaela applied some rubbing alcohol to the end of a fresh cloth, and brought it to Suzie's lip, gently disinfecting the area.
"Sorry, I," Michaela tried to comfort the girl, who whimpered under her breath at the sensation of the burning substance against her raw skin. Sighing as she continued wiping the blood from the girl's face, Michaela focused her mental efforts on remaining detached. She pushed away, once again, the recollections infiltrating her conscious thought.
"You're shaking, Dr Mike." Myra leant forward to brush her arm tenderly, seeing Michaela's eyes narrow in desperate frustration, forcing herself to complete treating her patient's injuries.
Michaela dismissed Myra's comment in frustration. She struggled to focus her attention on the task before her, although after several minutes had managed to clean most of the blood from the young woman's chest and face.
"That's it, ain't it Suzie? He didn't hurt ya any place else?" Myra pushed her friend's hair back off her face, the young woman's strength returning enough to push herself to the edge of the bed.
"No, I'm all right. Was just the shock more," Suzie replied, looking between Myra and Dr Mike before standing slowly and crossing the room, opening a dresser drawer to find a change of clothes.
"She all right to get dressed, Dr Mike?" Myra, relieved at the reduced seriousness of her friend's injuries, turned to the physician, frowning slightly when she saw the blood drained from Michaela's face.
"Are you all right, Dr Mike?" Myra became aware of Michaela's slightly dropped glance, staring down at her bloodstained hands.
Hearing her name, Michaela, quickly turned in Myra's direction, her response slow, her voice wavering.
"She'll just need to take it easy for a few days. Fortunately, the damage is only superficial," Michaela, her anxiety rising instantly within her, reached for her medical bag, trying to find a clean cloth for her hands.
"Dr Mike, I, I can stay with her, if you wanna step outside for a moment," Myra saw the agitated expression creep over Michaela's face as she began furiously wiping the smeared blood from her palms and fingertips.
"I, I'll just," Michaela, looked up, her eyes meeting Myra's, aware of the petrified tears welling in her eyes. Standing and fleeing quickly into the corridor, Michaela closed the door behind her, unaware of her location, until she felt her head lean back against the solid wall of the corridor.
She knew she couldn't fall apart. Her breath held in her lungs for the longest time whilst she allowed her eyes to drop closed. Michaela hadn't realized she had company until she heard a man clear his throat only several feet from her.
Her eyes reopening with a flash, Michaela pushed herself from the wall, recognizing the longhaired man who had now arrived by her side.
"She's ah, going to be fine," Michaela sufficed, Hank nodding, however bringing his arms slowly from behind his back rather than replying.
"Ain't her I'm worried 'bout," His voice was soft, Michaela trying to avoid making eye contact; however, Hank, like Sully, had a piercing glare that was inescapable.
Michaela was only able to avoid Hank's glance by staring at the two objects gripped securely in his hands. Swallowing awkwardly, she looked blankly from the empty shot glass, to the bottle of whiskey, before returning her eyes to Hank's, his expression one of non-judgmental and empathetic support. Michaela blinked several times, trying to compose herself, aware of Hank pouring the liquid into the small glass.
"I," Michaela drew another strained breath, trying to refuse the offer. Hank took a single step towards her, his right hand outstretched, the glass arriving only inches in front of her. The words that fell from his lips were simple; precise; the bartender managing to convey more understanding in three words than Michaela would have ever thought possible:
"Just, drink it, Michaela."