Michaela felt her once stable breathing begin to increase slightly, the weight of his hand on her arm feeling overwhelmingly physically intrusive after several moments.
"Please," her voice was frail and defenseless, feeling his grasp only tighten against her struggles.
"I'm sorry but if it's gonna mean you'll open up to me, once and for all, then," Sully saw the desperation and fear sweep over her face, hating himself for cornering her like this. He knew Michaela's stubbornness, he knew this was the only way.
She tightened her arms against her sides, feeling the roughness of the wall behind her. Darting her eyes quickly from side to side, Michaela knew he wasn't going to give in. She despised his determination in that moment; hated him for what he was making her face; however unable to fight the reality that he was doing what he thought right.
No. Don't give in, Michaela. You're stronger than that. You can't tell him, he'll never understand. You can't tell him; he'll never let you go through with this. You have to decide Michaela. You know what you want. You know what's right for you. Don't let him win.
"Michaela, nothing is that terrible," Sully looked back towards the café; had somebody said something offensive to her? No. This had been going on for too long to be the result of anything that had happened today.
He maintained eye contact with her, although nothing could have prepared him for the response that followed.
A barely audible moan of protest escaped her lips, as a single tear fell from her left eye. In one split second, Michaela had decided on her course of action. Pulling back sharply from his grasp, she momentarily freed herself, looking immediately to her right, about to take a step in that direction, when Sully rested both his hands firmly on her shoulders.
She kept her head dropped, every spare ounce of energy being utilized to not give into his demands.
Two more days, then I can stop pretending.
She felt the silent words play over and over in her mind, reassuring herself that the façade was only temporary. Within two weeks, she'd be back and no-one would know any different.
Don't ruin it now, Michaela, don't. You'll never forgive yourself.
"Michaela?" Sully watched her eyebrows move, unaware of the mental discourse taking place within her.
Hearing his voice, although seeming to be a long way away, Michaela's only concentration was divided between the inner dialogue within her mind, and the sensation of his hands pushing down heavily on her shoulders.
Her heart racing, and muscles tensing, she knew she once again was left with only a physical response.
Drawing her hands instantaneously from her side, Michaela fought desperately against his arms, almost managing to duck and free herself from his grasp. She felt the stones behind her pressing harder, yet never painfully, against her back. Sully's hands moved to each of her wrists; leaving her completely pinned.
Michaela's eyes dropped closed in defeat at that point, feeling nothing other than physical suffocation and rage. How dare he presume he had a right to dictate her physical freedoms. How dare he presume he had the right to demand answers from her. In that instant of pure, irrational fury, Michaela's mind locked onto one undeniable conclusion.
"How dare you! This is all your fault," she felt the accusation leave her without a moment's hesitation. Michaela was beyond possessing the logical ability to discern truth from emotion at this point, seeing Sully's eyes narrow as a sign that he had taken in her words.
"Keep goin'," His voice was dull, hating to hear the words from her lips, however knowing that if it was what she needed to convey, then he could withstand it. It was the least he owed her.
"What gives you the right, to assume I'm accountable to you, to demand answers from me," Michaela pulled her arms desperately in struggle against his grasp, her fists clenched to the point where her knuckles had turned white.
Sully remained perfectly silent, letting her work herself up to the point where pure exhaustion would allow her to disclose to him.
"What makes you think you've the right to keep me here like this? You haven't a right to any of this. If it hadn't of been for you, none of this would have happened in the first place," her voice was ragged and strained, but still he kept his eyes locked on hers, and his fingers gripped around her wrists. He knew he was close.
"It's all your fault! If it hadn't of been for you, I never would have met Cloud Dancing, or Snow Bird, or any of them! I never would have been out there that day. I never would have seen them kill the soldiers. They never would have; He never," Michaela's voice cracked as she furiously flailed her fists against his chest, uncontrollable tears streaming from her eyes. He lowered his gaze, realizing Michaela was finally speaking the truth she'd been determined to deny from him; to deny from herself.
"It never would have happened! It's all your fault! I wish, I wish I'd never come here, I," her breathing was shallow, her voice so high, it was almost childlike. Her throat was choked with tears, her hair splayed messily around her shoulders.
Sully swallowed, returning his gaze to her eyes, not expecting her to continue.
"I wish I'd never met you!" Michaela was hysterical by this point, her words however, still managing to carry complete conviction.
"You, you don't mean that?" Sully spaced his words out in hushed disbelief.
"Yes, I do! I never want to see you again!" She felt her arms fall back against her torso, not comprehending that it because he had released them from his grasp. Somehow, Michaela managed to maintain direct eye contact with him, the raw fury having projected her voice forwards, as breath alone could not.
Taking a silent step away from her, Sully studied her face, looking for any indication of remorse or regret. He could find none.
"If that's the way you feel, I'll, I'll go," His voice faded in defeat, both aware of the permanence of his final word.
Michaela clutched her hands desperately in front of her, both turning when they heard a distant holler.
"What the devil you doin' to her!" Olive stepped out from the café, having arrived into the narrow alleyway several moments before, witnessing the end of the physical altercation, and jumping immediately and unquestioningly to Michaela's defense.
Sully's face adopted an eerily calm expression; looking once from Olive, back to Michaela, before he nodded twice slowly, and turned towards his right.
"You know where to find me when you're ready. I wish I could have prevented this," he addressed her one final time, his voice soft and slow, before breaking out into a frenzied sprint, disappearing out onto the main street, the wolf trailing after him.
Arriving to Michaela's side as soon as she could, Olive grappled to take everything in.
"Dr Mike? Dr Mike, I," Olive managed to take her hands just as Michaela began to slide towards the ground in exhaustion. Neither woman made a sound for several moments; Olive busied herself trying to brush Michaela's hair from her face, the only sound Michaela's tearful breathing.
"What happened?" Olive shook her head, seeing the unfamiliarity in Michaela's eyes.
"I said it was his fault. Why, why did I say that?" Michaela was able, for the first time, to recollect her irrational words, and despite having no control over them at the time, knew she'd said things that she could never take back.
"Ssh, don't have to worry 'bout that. Maybe you have a point, wouldn't catch me goin' out there with him. Sometimes think we're all kept separate for a reason. Sully's never understood that but, with what's happened, maybe we're not meant to mix, just makes everything too complicated," Olive found a clean handkerchief tucked under her left sleeve, delicately dabbing at Michaela's tear-streaked cheeks, surprised when she'd not responded until now.
"You're right, Olive. It certainly does," Michaela sighed, looking from the alleyway leading up towards the main street, then back down to her hands locked in front of her waist.
"Come along, kids'll be worryin' where ya got to," Olive rubbed Michaela's shoulder supportively, helping her awkwardly to her feet.
"Please, would you fetch them," Michaela brought her fingers to her eyes, continuing to wipe the excess moisture from her face.
"Sure, everyone's headin' home anyway. Startin' to get dark," The older woman reassured, Michaela slowly recomposing herself as Olive left to get the children.
Feeling a burning sensation against her wrists, Michaela looked down to see the pale red marks left from the physical struggle.
Oh, God. What have I done?
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Time for bed, Brian. Aren't you exhausted?" Colleen directed her brother through the front door of the homestead, the young boy still full of energy as he slipped off the jacket of his costume, draping it casually over the back of the chair.
"What happened to Sully?" Brian frowned, addressing his sister, as Michaela appeared through the doorway behind them Matthew was still outside returning Bear to the barn.
"I dunno, go on, gotta be up early for church," Colleen deflected, her annoyance obvious. Without thinking, she picked up his jacket, folded it neatly, and headed across to the large walk-in wardrobe to the left of Michaela's bed.
"Dr Mike, where'd Sully go? Colleen asked innocently, waiting until Brain had pulled the curtain across, preoccupied in changing into his pajamas.
Michaela closed the front door slowly, frowning unconsciously at the mention of his name. She turned to her right, noticing Colleen emerge from her dressing area, expecting a reply.
"He, I don't know. I don't know," Michaela felt her lips tighten against her teeth, every facial muscle struggling to hold back the tears.
"What's?" Colleen's shoulders dropped, at a loss for Michaela's seemingly routine emotional breakdown. A heavy sigh escaped the girl's mouth, as she paced dutifully around the edge of the bed, quickly pulling back the quilt and top sheet.
"Thank-you," Michaela wiped her eyes with the back of her right hand, as she crossed the small space to arrive by Colleen's side at the edge of the bed.
"Did you tell him?" Colleen's voice was stern and demanding; she'd had more than enough over the past few weeks, and Michaela's evasiveness was only adding to her frustration.
"No." Michaela slipped the two combs from her hair, looking down as she placed them carefully on the table beside her bed.
"This is ridiculous! You gotta tell him. Can't keep hiding it from everyone. I can't stand it any longer; havin' to walk on eggshells around here, never knowin' who's throat you're gonna jump down next!" The young girl threw her arms out to her side in exasperation, before folding them tightly across her chest.
"He's gone, Colleen." Michaela perched on the side of her bed, reaching down and beginning to unlace her boots.
"Gone? I don't understand. What happened?" She took a seat nervously beside Michaela, the girl's voice softening somewhat, sensing the significance of the word 'gone'.
"It's all my fault. I told him I never wanted to see him again." Michaela's hands flew to her cheeks, cradling her head for several moments, still not believing the words had passed her lips only hours before.
"Why would you say somethin' like that? It's not true, is it?" Colleen whispered, reaching across to slowly unfasten the back of Michaela's dress.
"Of course it's not true! I didn't feel comfortable telling him the truth, and he was being rather insistent. I just overreacted. I'm sorry, I've been doing that a lot lately." Michaela nodded in gratitude to Colleen, her words referring to their altercation several days earlier.
"It's all right, Dr Mike, just think it'd be easier on everyone, you too, if ya let people know what's going on." Colleen pulled the corner of her mouth up slowly.
"Colleen, I," Michaela felt the guilt over her imminent departure resurface, wanting to warn the girl, however being simultaneously reminded of Colleen's words from their conversation on the bridge. She was too young to be able to understand the complexity of the situation. Michaela knew she could not expect Colleen to comprehend the dilemma she was facing.
"He'll come around, Dr Mike. Sully ain't gonna think you meant it. Gonna know you were just upset," she reassured supportively. Michaela nodded enough to suffice, however remained unconvinced. She'd seen the disbelief and hurt in his eyes; she'd heard the fury and conviction in her own voice.
Colleen took the opportunity to glance down hesitantly towards Michaela's stomach, a worrying thought still nagging at her.
"Dr Mike, shouldn't ya, I mean, you're over four months now. Aren't ya worried about people noticing? Maybe it's just coz I know but, well, Brian didn't know and he could tell. Wouldn't ya want people to know before they can see?" Colleen was suddenly aware of the realness of the situation. Somehow the term 'pregnant' had a clinically cold connotation; it wasn't until she began to visualize her mother over the coming weeks that reality began to set in.
Michaela's eyes dropped downwards instantly, adjusting her skirt awkwardly.
"No-one's said anything. Is it obvious?" Michaela very tentatively flattened her skirt over her firm abdomen, looking back towards Colleen for an answer.
"Not unless you do that," Colleen shrugged awkwardly. "But Brian's all worked up, thinkin' you're gettin' fat. Of course everyone will be too polite to phrase it like that, but you can't hide it forever," Colleen rose from the bed.
Michaela remained silent, her hands moving to unbutton her skirt, slipping the bodice of her outfit from her arms, and reaching for her nightdress under her pillow.
"Night, Ma," The young girl whispered, a worried frown creeping over her face as she made her way to her bed, Brian already having drifted off to sleep from the day's excitement.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"I just thought it'd work, thought she'd give in. Cloud Dancin', you know how stubborn she is," Sully brought his knees up to his chest, gazing reflectively into the fire that lit the night sky.
"You cannot blame yourself. All you can do is try and do what is right. The choice is up to us, we cannot be responsible for the consequences," Cloud Dancing adjusted the blanket around his shoulders, watching as other Cheyenne villagers settled into their tepees for the night.
"Do you think I'm expectin' too much? Expectin' her to heal too soon?" Sully frowned, wrapping his hands around his knees.
"I do not know. No-one knows. You forget, Dr Mike does not even know. Spirits tell me the two of you are not meant to be apart, however," he offered, Sully responding somewhat skeptically.
"Well, we sure ain't meant to be together after what's happened, only causin' each other more pain. Thing is, it ain't just me. She's being snappy with everyone. The children are struggling too, and I thought, I suppose I thought it was my place, my responsibility to confront her, because no-one else will. I just can't see the light ahead any longer. Not if she's going to keep herself so closed off. It's like she's sayin' everything she thinks she oughta, even doin' everythin' like before but something's missin'. There's this emptiness. Like she's not feelin' anythin', and I don't know how to fix that." Sully threw another stick onto the fire, shaking his head in frustration.
"Maybe it is not something you can fix. It is something she will need to discover for herself. It is not just about returning to the way things were before. It is acknowledging the loss, allowing oneself to grieve. Snow Bird has been through a similar journey. It is not simply a matter of moving on, it is accepting that a time of grief is necessary. I do not know how long such a time will last. I try to accept that living every day is not about ending this grief, it is about accepting that it is there, trusting that it will improve in time. One must live in hope," Cloud Dancing looked back up at his brother, Sully's eyes remained downcast and cold.
"But how much time? She seems to be gettin' worse, and I don't know how to get us through this any longer," Sully sighed, looking up hopelessly towards the stars.
"You need to take some time; you need to balance yourself. My brother, it is not only Dr Mike who is grieving, you too have suffered a loss. What has happened has taken from your future, also," Cloud Dancing considered, his voice evenly-paced and calming.
"I don't care about me, it's s Michaela. I only want her to stop being in this pain. I don't care if we never have a future together. I wish I'd died out there, rather than havin' to see her hurtin' so bad." Sully lowered his head, feeling Cloud Dancing's arm come to rest on his shoulder, as if attempting to transfer pure strength through physical contact alone.
"You need to rediscover your purpose, if only for a few days. You need to find the right path again." Cloud Dancing waited for Sully to glance back up at him, both men knowing they were speaking of a vision quest.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Why so long, Michaela?" Josef closed the large door behind him, removing his spectacles and slipping them into the top pocket of his jacket.
"It's not up to me. This isn't real, is it?" Michaela looked back hesitantly towards the corridor she'd spent the last few weeks traveling, having finally arrived outside the dark wooden door, her father blocking her path.
"That depends on you. Do you still want my help?" Josef reached a hand to her upper arm, Michaela suddenly feeling extremely confused, reality and dream fighting against each other.
"But you can't help me, you're dead, Father." She felt his hand squeeze her arm soothingly; his touch was real.
"That is true, but I can offer you guidance Michaela. Why did you wish to become a doctor?" His words were deliberately paced, his hand still brushing against her arm.
"You know why. To relieve pain, to save lives, to," Michaela stopped, silenced by the hypocrisy of her response.
"Come," Josef turned back towards the door, having decided it was time for Michaela to enter the room she'd previously been unable to.
"I," Michaela hesitated, irrational nervousness taking over, not sure if she was truly ready for what lay beyond that door.
"Michaela, you wanted my help. This is the only way I know how." Josef reached his left hand towards the doorknob, turning it slightly and opening the door just a crack.
Michaela swallowed, about to take a step towards him, when she heard the piercing cries; a baby's cries. Her mouth clenched closed, eyes widening in fear, Michaela turned back towards the long, dark corridor, her father gripping her right arm more strongly.
"You're stronger than that, Michaela." Josef let the door swing open completely, the infant's cries intensifying. Michaela glanced back over her right shoulder, squinting to see into the darkened room.
"I don't understand," Michaela drew her hands instantly to her stomach, fingers padding desperately against her flesh; she no longer was pregnant. Looking up in mortification, she met her father's eyes; that, was her baby.
"I know what you are planning, Michaela. I know my approval was important to you, but it does not have to be that way," Josef gestured into the seemingly empty room with his left hand, Michaela's shoulders rising and falling with her heavy breathing as she reluctantly followed him.
Once again feeling her footsteps slow and heavy, Michaela entered the room, her eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness, seeing a wrought iron bed in the far corner. It was then she noticed the small bundle of white blankets in the center of the bed.
"I can't," she whispered, and turned to her father. His hands were clutched tightly to the lapels of his jacket.
"Will it not help you to decide?" Josef lowered his gaze, Michaela's jaw dropping as he unemotionally nodded for her to approach the distressed infant.
"Father, I," Michaela blinked uncomfortably, knowing his presence was not helping matters.
"If you want me to go, I'll go," The familiar words echoed traumatically through her mind as she saw him turn and leave the room.
All she could hear by that point was the crying. It was a desperate and rich wailing. She knew she had to see. Hearing the door close across the room, Michaela knew what she was afraid of. She'd known from the moment she'd discovered she was pregnant. Being reminded more graphically only the previous evening, when Hank had managed to unknowingly voice her preoccupations.
She was terrified of what her child would look like.
The floorboards creaked under her feet as she crossed the room. Michaela felt a choked gasp pass her lips. Her eyes locked first on the child's impossibly dark hair, visible over the edge of the white woolen blanket. Moving closer still, Michaela clasped her hand over her mouth, her chest tightening.
"That baby's gonna come out lookin' like its bastard of a father," Hank's voice was chilling. Michaela looked around, almost expecting to find him in the room.
"No." She arrived by the side of the bed, tilting her head downwards, so as to be able to see the child completely; her blood ran cold.
In a single flash of time, Michaela's most haunting, impossible fears were confirmed. This child bore no resemblance to her whatsoever. In that moment of unmitigated terror, Michaela had no ability to dispute the irrationality of what lay before her;
"That baby's gonna come out lookin' like its bastard of a father."
It was then that she noticed the unmistakable scrap of material covering the baby's left eye. Her shoulders drawing immediately upwards, Michaela let out a shrill screech, the sound of her own voice echoing around her for several moments, when she realized the torture her mind had chosen to inflict upon her.
The child continued screaming, arms flailing either side of its tiny body, tears staining its small, brown cheeks. Her hands gripped firmly in front of her, Michaela took another strangled mouthful of air, her imagination creating an impossibly abstract creature; the infant's long black hair hung around its neck; pale brown animal skins, swaddled around its small form.
Without being aware of her movements, Michaela had backed away from the bed, terrified squeals continuing as she looked around desperately for the wooden door leading back out to the corridor. In the surrealism of the nightmare, the room had altered, and the door vanished completely. She was trapped, hearing nothing other than her child's cries blending with her own petrified screams.
"Ma! Ma, wake up. Ma!" Colleen had been ripped from her sleep several moments ago by the sound of Michaela's blood-curdling screams. Crossing the homestead, Colleen had arrived by her bedside, Michaela struggling desperately against the quilt she'd become entangled in.
Frowning worriedly, the young girl managed to catch Michaela's right arm, stopping it from colliding against the wooden head of the bed, kneeling on the edge of the mattress as Michaela emerged from unconsciousness with a disorientated startle.
"Ma, only a dream. Ma, it's all right," Colleen cringed in dismay, seeing the raw panic behind her mother's eyelids. Michaela sat up and looked around the darkened homestead.
"Where? I," Michaela concentrated all her efforts on regulating her breathing, both looking across as Brian pushed his way through the white curtain.
"Who's makin' all the noise?" He wiped his eyes groggily, having noticed that Colleen was no longer in her bed.
"It's all right Brian, go back to bed," Colleen comforted, rubbing her right hand along Michaela's arm, looking between her mother and younger brother.
"Ma all right?" He stepped across the room, scuffing his bare feet across the rough floorboards, crawling onto the opposite side of the bed.
"Ma?" Colleen looked back down at Michaela, expecting immediate reassurance. She frowned, taking in the paleness of Michaela's face, and her blank stare.
All three people jumped slightly to the sound of the back door opening, Matthew appearing after only a second, having heard the disturbance from the barn.
"Dr Mike?" His eyes were cold and large. The young man arrived by his sister's side, the two older children starting to be concerned by Michaela's silence.
"Maybe she had a bad dream? I know when I have a bad dream, I get real scared. Did ya have a bad dream, Ma?" Brian tilted his head, carefully moving further up the bed to obtain his mother's attention.
"Ma?" Colleen looked down at Michaela's limp arm, before turning back to her older brother for support.
"Maybe get her a glass of water?" Matthew shrugged, having no clue as to how to rouse Michaela's attention. Colleen nodded and got to her feet, Matthew taking her place on the side of the bed.
"Everything's all right, Ma. Just us here," Matthew pushed a handful of her tangled hair back over her shoulder, Michaela looking between each of her sons, hands moving quickly, yet not overly dramatically to her stomach, as if to ensure the events still fresh in her mind had really only been illusion.
"Here," Colleen handed her the glass of water, nodding in encouragement as Michaela hesitantly sipped the contents.
"Thank, thank-you." She slowly handed the glass back to the girl, Brian having slid up to the top of the bed, leaning gently against her left side.
"Bad dreams ain't real, Ma. Remember what you told me? So ya don't gotta be scared. I'll stay with ya and then if I see ya havin' a bad dream, I can wake ya up 'fore ya get too frightened." Brian pulled decisively for the quilt, settling himself comfortably for the night's stay, neither Colleen nor Matthew having the heart to disturb him. Colleen shook her head as Brian helped Michaela rearrange the pillows behind her head; things were getting out of hand.
"Matthew," The young girl brushed her brother's arm lightly, pulling herself to her feet, gesturing for him to follow her as she made her way towards the back door.
"Need me to tell ya a story, Ma?" Brian let his small fingers run over the back of her left hand, delicately tracing out each individual finger, Michaela still somewhat detached from reality.
"Once upon a time, there was a woman who had five daughters," The young boy kept his voice hushed as he began the familiar story his Grandmother had told him several years ago.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"You wanna tell me why you're out here in the middle of the night in just a nightdress? Gonna catch your death, Colleen!" Matthew shook his hands through his hair, watching in disbelief as Colleen softly closed the barn door, turning back to face him, a bewildered tentativeness creeping into her voice.
"Listen, I promised I wouldn't say nothin' but I can't keep this up any longer, we gotta do something." Colleen wrapped her arms across her chest, the night wind they'd just walked through having chilled her to the bone.
"What are ya talkin' about? Ain't nothin' we can do about Dr Mike havin' nightmares," Matthew took a step backwards, surprised at the snappiness in Colleen's reply.
"I ain't talkin' about that! There's just no way to say this Matthew. Dr Mike's, Ma's," Colleen patted the palms of her hands rhythmically against her upper arms, pacing in a small circle around the barn, looking undecidedly between the homestead and her brother.
"What's goin' on, Colleen? This got somethin' to do with Sully and Dr Mike havin' that fight?" Matthew placed his hands on his hips, trying his best to remain sympathetic, however aware of the late hour.
"Probably." Colleen rolled her eyes, firmly believing Michaela had just made things harder on herself by stubbornly refusing to tell Sully.
"Well?" Matthew brought his arms forwards, palms up in indication of his exasperation.
"Only found out last week, Brian, he was," Colleen stuttered, hardly knowing where to begin.
"Colleen, will you just get to the," Matthew glared at his sister, somewhat taken aback by the outburst that followed.
"Ma's pregnant!" The young girl's blonde hair dropped over her shoulders, the anxiety that had built up during her admission, left her somewhat out of breath.
Matthew looked up, an uncomprehending frown appearing on his face. "What?"
Colleen glared furiously back at him, appalled that he'd had the nerve to question her.
"What? What the hell do you mean 'what'! How many different things does the word 'pregnant' usually mean, Matthew?" The remainder of the trapped air in her lungs came out in a noisy huff, her older brother stuffing his hands into his pockets, before also beginning a slow pace around the barn.
"But, how, ah, I mean, hell," Matthew glared back at her. "Who else knows?" Matthew felt the necessary masculine protectiveness he knew was expected of him, begin to flow through his veins.
"Well obviously Dr Mike, me, you, that's it. I only know coz Brian was snooping and you only know, because, because I, I can't deal with this!" Colleen's fingers had latched themselves together, her face crumbling and previously denied tears clouding her eyes.
"Hey, aww," Matthew saw his sister's face drop. Aware of the tears running down her cheeks, he took a step towards her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, as Colleen dropped herself wearily against his chest.
"She said she was gonna tell Sully, but she won't. Think that's why they had the fight. She's just pushin' everyone away, Matthew," Colleen's face reddened slightly with the emotion she was withstanding. Matthew brought his hands to her shoulders, locking his jaw and trying to decide on the best response.
"Probably real scared, Colleen. You know what she's like, all been too much," Matthew pulled back, allowing Colleen to glance up at him.
"But, she's worryin' me. She's not takin' care a herself, not eatin', and the horse ride last weekend. That weren't no accident. Reckon she knew exactly what she was doin'," Colleen turned her head back towards the homestead. Matthew removed his hands from her shoulders and crossed them decisively in front of himself.
"You sayin' she's tryin' to, but she wouldn't, she'd never," Matthew shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he mentally willed his sister to recant her words.
"But she is, says it ain't fair on us." Colleen chewed idly on a fingernail, looking nervously between her hand and her older brother.
"Not us I'm worried about. You imagine Hank's face when he hears about this, we'll never hear the end of it. Everyone'll, didn't you say Brian told you?" Matthew's face twitched; a panicked look of concern coming to his eyes; his younger brother was hardly the most reliable child when it came to keeping secrets.
"Yeah but he doesn't get it, I don't think. Came to me coz he thinks Ma's worried she's 'gettin' fat'. I knew enough not to tell him anymore," Colleen reassured Matthew, locking eyes with her older brother, relieved that she at least now had someone to talk things through with.
"So, ah, you're right, we gotta have a talk with her. This thing with Sully just don't make sense. Tomorrow, after church," Matthew continued nodding lightly, trying to convince himself facing this nightmare was the right course of action.
"All right," Colleen sighed heavily, her distress having been alleviated by their talk.
"Ain't nothin' we can do about it at this hour. Just try and get some sleep," Matthew paced across the barn, hands resting either side of the ladder that led up towards the hayloft.
"Easy for you to say, out here," Colleen rolled her eyes, arriving by the door.
"Come get me if there are any problems," Matthew began climbing the rungs back up to his bed.
"Yeah, you bet I will," Colleen pushed the large wooden door open, disappearing back out into the night.