"I, I can't stand this. I'm all cramped and," Colleen felt her brother grasp her arm tightly.
"Will you just stop whinin', we're all cramped and tired. Only gonna be another couple hours and we'll be in Denver," Matthew's voice was equally strained, although he tried to be mature.
"And then, still got a train trip," Colleen retorted, pulling out her crumpled skirt from under her.
"Won't be too bad, can get the train straight from Denver to Boston. At least we don't have to stop in St. Louis like last time, saves half a day, 'sides, stop thinkin' a yourself all the time," Matthew moved over towards Sully, who remained soundly asleep, giving Colleen more space.
"I'm sorry, I know. Just worried," Colleen sighed, glancing out over the sparse countryside.
"It's all right, we all are," Matthew brought his arm up to rub her right shoulder warmly.
"Even when we get there, what makes Sully so sure she'll wanna come home. Ain't so sure I would," Colleen drew a tired breath, and turned back to her brother for a response.
"I don't know, Colleen. I haven't got the answers." He lowered his head, his reply honest.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Michaela habitually reached for the edge of her skirt as she began the steady climb to the top of the staircase. She heard the high-pitched chatter of voices behind her, and noticed as they faded away with each step she took.
"Ma, ya gotta come see my room, wanna show you around, they've got a library, right in the house and, this big fancy meeting room," Brian felt his young cousin grasp the back of his jacket and turned as he continued climbing backwards up the stairs.
"What you want?" Brian groused, annoyed that Penny had taken his attention away from his mother.
"Mother says we have to go play. I think the checkers are in Edmund's room, come along," she ordered stubbornly, and pulled Brian to the left once they had arrived at the top of the stairs.
"But, Ma's," he frowned, as Michaela and Ellen continued down the hallway away from them.
"I said come along. You're such a baby sometimes," Penelope tugged on his arm harder, and the two children went in search of the game.
Ellen moved slowly down the long passage, the silence between them almost stifling.
"Mrs. Dickinson has said you are to be in the lavender bedroom, Miss. Freshly redecorated last spring, it is ever so nice and your son is right across the hall. He is a delightful child, isn't he? So well-mannered and easy to please. I brought him fresh towels for his bath this morning and you should have seen the look on his little face; told me he'd never had a bath indoors before. What a little darling," Ellen muttered, in an attempt to make pleasant conversation.
Michaela glanced around disconcertedly at the very familiar surroundings, although felt as if nothing appeared quite as it had in her memory.
"Here we are. Now you just settle yourself in and be sure to call for me should you need anything," Ellen escorted Michaela to the immaculately furnished bedroom, and waited until she'd taken several steps into the room before she continued, "Are you sure there isn't anything I can get you, dear? Some afternoon tea?" Ellen's usually cheery face dropped unconsciously to a concerned frown when she received no acknowledgement whatsoever of her inquiry. "Miss?" The brunette chambermaid hovered in the doorway for several moments, hopeful of a reply.
Michaela was pulled from her daydream by the persistent voice, and turned, her expression blank and dumbfounded.
Ellen was about to repeat the question when she heard a commotion commence across the hall. "Excuse me, dear. You just make yourself comfortable," Ellen smiled politely, and swung the large door closed softly, as she turned with authority back towards the young boy's room.
"You're a liar! They cannot!" Rebecca's daughter's shrill voice could be easily heard form across the landing.
"Can too!" A boy's voice retorted, as Ellen increased her speed and reached for the doorknob to the second guest room.
"It's against the law!" Penelope's voice intensified, as the door was opened and Ellen laid her eyes on the two children's hands interlocked around each other's upper arms.
"But it's true!" Brian pulled away from her grasp violently, however, the determined ten year-old girl had no intentions of retreating from the argument, and equally squeezed his arms in defense. "You don't know what you're talkin' about. My Ma's havin' a baby and she ain't married!" Brian pulled away slightly more forcefully this time, Penelope lost her balance, and dropped ungraciously to a heap on the floor.
"Children! What on earth," Ellen surveyed the checkers board, slightly crocked on the edge of the bed, as well as the pieces which lay in disarray around it.
"Nothin'," Brian froze for several moments, before he reached down to help his cousin to her feet.
"Well, young man, I'm afraid it doesn't look that way to me. Miss Penelope?" Ellen raised a single eyebrow at the young girl.
"Brian said that you don't have to be married to have a baby, but Mother said that it's a sin if you have baby without being married, and Father said that it only happens to bad women, and that they throw them in jail for it!," Penny gently smoothed her dress out over her crumpled petticoat.
"But that ain't true, Miss; my Ma's havin' a baby and she ain't married, and she ain't bad neither. Aunt Rebecca said so," The young boy folded his arms tightly across his chest.
"She is, son?" Ellen stammered, and unconsciously glanced back towards Michaela's room.
"Uh-huh, so tell Penny she's wrong. You don't gotta be married," Brian shrugged in vehement protest.
"Ah, children, what about if we all go downstairs for some nice shortbread and Penny, you might ask your Mother about your question?" Ellen opened the boy's bedroom door and swiftly shooed both youngsters back down towards the stairs. Turning as the children quickly launched into a new topic, Ellen looked back towards Michaela's room with a dejected sigh.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Thought he'd never get to sleep," Colleen smiled softly down at her brother's sleeping form.
"Reckon he was awake all last night. Can't say I blame him," Sully kept his voice low, knowing Matthew desperately needed the rest.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I know I ain't been takin' this real grown-up or anything. I know Matthew's probably been angry at me. He thinks I'm actin' like a little kid," Colleen began to idly fold the wool blanket she'd had wrapped over her legs, taking her time in order to avoid what she assumed would be a nod of agreement from Sully.
"Don't you go thinkin' that. I don't think people can say that someone's actin' childish, or wrong. Don't think anyone's got the right to judge another's opinions, coz, end of the day, no-one ever truly sees something through someone else's eyes. The hard part in life is realizin' that." He noticed the young girl's deliberate efforts to avoid his gaze. With great care and silence, Sully moved from the padded bench of the stage, to crouch down in front of Colleen. She still wouldn't look up at him.
"Colleen." He leant forwards to place his hands tenderly over her smaller ones, forcing her to look down at him.
"I," she automatically tried to prize her hands away, however, when that didn't work, bit her lower lip and reluctantly met his eyes.
"You think people forgotten just how hard this has been for you? Well, I ain't. You think I don't know how grown-up you've had to be. Think people ain't told me what happened? I know, Colleen, it was you saved ya ma's life. Since then, ain't been any easier. Everyone's been so caught up, trying to make sure Michaela's all right and I know Brian's been a nuisance. Ain't no-one been there for you and I'm sorry 'bout that. Don't you think, just coz we ain't said anything, that no-one's noticed," Sully saw the girl's cheeks redden. Supportively, he brought his right hand up to squeeze her shoulder, not expecting her to drop forwards against his chest.
"No-one ever talked about it, Sully. Everyone's just been ignorin' it. Miss Dorothy reckons it's best to 'try and forget' but I can't! And I can't talk about it with Dr Mike, neither. Even before I found out she was pregnant. I feel bad for wantin' to talk to her; if it were me, I wouldn't a wanted to know. She, she was so hurt, Sully. I, I can't stop seein', can't stop rememberin'. All the blood. And to think, how could somebody do that to her? He tore her apart!" Colleen felt her throat constrict with tears. "I mean, hurt someone that bad and then just leave 'em to die?" Colleen felt her nose push harder against his collarbone as the tears continued to run freely from her eyes.
For the first time in almost four months, she had allowed herself to let someone in. To be honest in how she felt, and express openly, the pain she'd carried since Hank had placed Michaela down on the examination table in front of her.
Sully felt the silence amplify around him. He had to say something. As he had heard the words fall from Colleen's lips, they united with the dark images he too carried in his mind. "Not all people see life the same, Colleen. We're lucky. You grew up respectin' the people in our lives, ya ma and pa, ya brothers and friends. Same as me. Same as Cloud Dancing and Snow Bird. Ain't everyone brought up the same. Ain't brought up knowin' love." He strengthened his tender grasp around the young girl's shoulder, as he felt her hands clutch around the back of his neck.
"I know everyone wants to forget about it, I know that's the right thing but," Colleen moved her fingers quickly, the memory of the traumatic experience enough to cause the sensation of blood trickling against her fingertips once again.
"No, it ain't. That's just what people try to tell people when they're strugglin' to find the courage to heal themselves. Healin' is never about forgettin'. The opposite, it's about being able to remember and it not hurt so bad. Said the same thing to Dr Mike, Colleen. We know we're healing, when, each time, the pain of rememberin' ain't quite so bad as the last time and maybe, one day it'll go away," Sully heard the girl's cries dissipate, and moved both his hands to her upper arms, as she pulled her head from his chest. They locked eyes firmly. "but, I know this for sure; even if the pain don't go away, just havin' gone through something like this will make us stronger. Means that other stuff, stuff that other people would find painful, will never be as upsettin'," Sully saw the tears dry on her cheeks.
Colleen sniffled several times, as she cleared the moisture from her nose and throat. Her voice was still hoarse. "You're right. It puts everything in its place. I know I just get so mad at Brian. When he whines about gettin' a splinter, or when Becky gets upset coz she failed a math test. Makes me angry coz I know those things aren't really that bad." Her chin quivered as she involuntarily cast her mind back over that single, haunting day.
"Right. Makes you tougher. Means you can get through the hard stuff in life. When you said about actin' childish, that's not true, Colleen. What we've just talked about proves to me, just how much you've had to grow up these last months. Admittin' you're scared, admittin' you can't handle something. That ain't childish." Sully reassured her, as he let his hands drop from her arms.
"Guess," Colleen nodded, as she slowly began to calm down. She turned to gaze out towards the more built-up countryside. "Sully?" She dropped her eyes and turned back to him.
"Hmm?" He rested a hand on her knee, as he too looked out towards their surroundings.
"Once we find her, get her back, how we gonna tell the town. You saw how they were with that Indian baby, gonna be even worse like this.f" Colleen shook her head, as she contemplated the thought.
"Don't gotta think about it all now but, I know, it's hard not to. Don't forget, Colleen, town came 'round to the cowboy's baby eventually, even Jake. Ya Ma was gonna keep him in the end," Sully considered for the first time, what the end result of this nightmare would be.
"Yeah but she loved him. Ain't nothin' like this," Colleen dismissed immediately.
"Then, we just gotta help her out, don't we? I bet folks'll be more acceptin' this time. We'll make it work, Colleen. We will," Sully asserted deliberately. All he wanted was to know that Michaela was safe. Nothing would seem insurmountable once they were all together again; as a family.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Michaela?" Rebecca tapped lightly on the door. Not receiving a response, she pushed it open enough to glance into the room. "Thought I'd come to check on you," she noticed her youngest sister resting peacefully on her left side, her head turned. Michaela showed no indication of having heard her, and maintained her gaze out of the large window across the room.
"I can have Ellen bring some afternoon tea up for you?" Rebecca walked around to the far side of the room, and smiled softly when she saw that her sister was indeed awake. "Michaela, please speak to me. Say something?" Rebecca cringed, as she nervously settled herself on the edge of the bed.
Michaela's only visible reaction was to blink and shift her gaze in uncomfortable distraction.
Why won't she just go away and leave me alone. There's absolutely nothing she can do. All she'll try to do is talk, and I don't want to. There's nothing she, nor anyone, can say that can make this situation better. I can't even look at her.
Rebecca saw her sister's diverted attention, and deliberately slid further along the edge of the bed, until she was placed directly between Michaela and the window.
"Michaela, I won't pretend to know what you're going through but I do know what the doctors have said, and what Brian's told me. I know more than you think, probably more than you want. I know what it took for you to come here." Rebecca paused and adjusted her tone slightly. "I know our family as well as you do, why do you think I told Mother to leave last night?" Rebecca saw the distraught glare of angst flash across her sister's face. Very slowly, she reached forwards to grasp Michaela's left hand. "I promise, Michaela. She'll never know about any of this. It will remain between us and nothing will ever change that," her voice had dropped to a whisper, still not able to break through her sister's cold, emotionless stare.
Michaela dropped her head, distracted by the feeling of her sister's fingers interlocked with her own. There's nothing she can do. Nothing anyone says will change matters.
"Michaela, you need to talk to me," Rebecca cleared her throat to continue, unaware that her words were being silently responded to.
No, I don't.
"Brian told me. He told me about," the mere anticipation of vocalizing such words caused Rebecca considerable distress, "about what happened. No-one thinks this is your fault, Michaela. No-one blames you," Rebecca saw her sister turn her head away.
Don't lie, I can't bear that.
"Michaela, we were raised in the same house; I know exactly how you believe everyone feels about this. It doesn't mean, however, that I feel the same way. I don't. It's not the same here. Attitudes to women are different, it's true. But life is so different here. You've told me so yourself. You've forgotten in the two years you've been away. Here, women don't leave the house unattended and are never in the company of single men without a chaperone. You can't hold yourself to the same standard that you were raised to. In your letters, why, Michaela, you raise three children all by yourself, miles and miles from town. The rules just aren't the same, I don't care what anyone says. Maybe here, with all the protection and formalities, I can see why women aren't afforded sympathy for allowing themselves to be," Rebecca couldn't say it, and merely drew a breath to press on, "but that's here. Brian told me about what they did to you," she felt her voice choke at the mere consideration, "Oh, why didn't you tell me, come home, I," Rebecca felt the tears gather in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to clasp her sister's shoulders. To embrace her with the warmth and love that she felt pouring from her chest. Instead, Rebecca merely glanced down at their entwined fingers, feeling the energy drained from her sister's touch.
"Please, Michaela, don't be ashamed to tell me the truth. How did it happen? Why did they kidnap you? Where, where was Sully, everyone? Why didn't they rescue you? Why was it allowed to happen?" Rebecca felt the sadness within her quickly turn into raw anger. "This is just not acceptable!" She saw Michaela pull her hand away at the unintentional rage in her voice.
Rebecca felt her heart drop, and immediately regretted her unplanned outburst. The damage was already done. She looked back up to see Michaela's hands folded defensively across her chest; the fingers of her left hand dug painfully into her right upper arm.
"Michaela, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, I don't for an instant blame you. I just meant, that the town, Sully, should have," Rebecca watched as her sister clenched her jaw tightly. "This, this isn't about anyone else. I'm sorry but I don't know what to say. You know I'm not the talkative one, Michaela. I just want to help," Rebecca saw the hopeless expression return to her sister's face.
"I'd best go and check on the children. William will be around later this evening to see that you're recovering suitably. Edmund and I will be having dinner at Mother's. I didn't particularly want to attend, however, it will be conspicuous if I'm absent and keeping Mother away will be difficult enough," Rebecca stood slowly, and paced to the end of the bed.
At a loss for inspiration, she gripped the frame of the bed tightly, and looked her sister up and down sorrowfully. "Stay as long as you need, Michaela. But please, I hope you'll trust me enough to let me in eventually." Rebecca could only imagine the tortures her baby sister must have endured to have rendered her in such a state. In that instant, unspeakable horrors swept through her consciousness, violent enough to send her rushing from the room.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Still reckon Grace's fried-chicken is better. If you come visit, you'll have to try some and see what ya think," Brian and Penelope jogged excitedly upstairs, having filled their stomachs with soup, roast beef and pudding for dessert.
"Is she your cook?" Penny phrased politely, as both children arrived at the top of the stairs.
"No she runs the café in town, for everyone. Hey, where we goin'?" Brian noticed that Penny veered to the left, away from his bedroom.
"My room, silly. Would you like to see the new doll Uncle Everett brought me for my birthday?" Penny turned back to address him.
"Um, yeah sure," Brian rolled his eyes, however continued to trudge along behind her, not wishing to seem rude.
"I have a cradle for her and different clothes. We can play pretend?" Penelope increased her stride excitedly.
"Play pretend what?" Brian grew hesitant; he knew what girls were like with dolls.
"Pretend like, I'm the Mother, and you're the Father. Here, let me find her," Penelope eagerly showed Brian into her spacious room, the young boy stunned by the wealth of lace and pink.
"This is bigger than our homestead," His mouth dropped as he took in the stunningly decorated room, from the large bay window, surrounded by toys and stuffed animals, to the writing desk and chair, to the expansive play area, and finally the large bed, chest of drawers, dressing table with ornate mirror, and walk-through dressing area.
"Don't be silly," Penny chuckled as she dragged the white-painted wooden doll's cradle to the center of the play area, quickly looking around for some accessories.
"I, I ain't," Brian swallowed, the teeth of envy nibbling on his heels.
"Here, you wear these," Penny emerged from the large toy chest by the far wall, and thrust a musky-smelling suit jacket and hat into Brian's hands. "Put them on and I'll put this on." She slipped the long, layered skirt over her head, and arranged it neatly until she was content with her appearance.
"Uh, all right, so you're the Ma and I'm the Pa? What do we do?" Brian shrugged his shoulders, as he slipped on the jacket and hat, both several sizes too large for him.
"Um, well you have to be at work and then come home and I'll be at home. Go outside, then come inside, all right?" Penny instructed rather bossily, Brian, however obeying meekly.
"Alright, whatever you say, I ain't done this before. Ya sure it ain't gonna be silly?" He hung his head and moped towards the door leading from the hallway.
"No, trust me, it will be fun. We play this all the time at parties. So you knock then when I say so, you come in. Ready?" Penelope crossed her bedroom to reach for the small doll in the cradle, as Brian dutifully stepped out into the hallway and prepared to re-enter the room.
Brian closed the large, wooden door behind him, as he adjusted the slightly mangled top hat more securely onto his small head.
"All right, I'm ready," Penelope ordered from behind the closed door.
Brian raised his hand, about to knock as instructed, when he heard voices at the end of the corridor to his right.
Quickly forgetting the proposed game, the young boy ran hurriedly to the source of the noise, seeing Ellen escorting Dr Burke down the hallway towards him.
"Evening, Brian. Must say, you do look rather dashing there," William smiled as the boy momentarily forgot his embarrassing attire.
"Sorry, Sir, Penny and I were just playin'. Ya come to see Ma again?" Brian looked towards the closed door between them. He had been placed under strict instructions that he was to allow his mother to rest for the evening.
"That's right," William ruffled the child's hair, as Ellen knocked on Michaela's door.
Brian and William turned back around at the sound of a high-pitched voice from behind them.
"Brian! We haven't finished! You ran off!" Penny hurtled down the corridor, doll clutched tightly in her hands as she blushed at the presence of company.
"I, yeah, I'm sorry," he muttered, trying to sound as sincere as possible.
"Then I had best let you two get back to it, hadn't I, Mister Cooper," William chuckled lightly, as Penelope skipped back along the hallway.
"Ah yeah," Brian sighed and hung his head resolutely. "Guess so. Hey, ah, Dr Burke?" Brian grasped his arm lightly, as William was about to step towards the ajar door.
"Can you tell Ma that I really don't hate her? Coz I think she's upset, thinking that I do," Brian chewed on his lower lip, and looked away.
"Brian, your mother knows you don't hate her," William reassured, placing a hand gently on the boy's shoulder in support of his words.
"Well, can you make sure? Was thinkin' maybe that's why Aunt Rebecca said I can't see her," Brian swallowed, before locking eyes with the physician.
"I will, indeed, son. How does this sound; I need to check on your mother for a little while. After I've left, you may sit with her until bedtime. That do?" William softened his tone and slipped his hand from the child's shoulder.
"Uh-huh," Brian perked up somewhat, and paced back towards his cousin's bedroom.
William watched the confused child depart for several moments, before he cleared his throat and turned towards the open doorway which led into Michaela's room.
"Shall I stay outside, sir?" Ellen queried politely, as she stepped away from the open door.
"Yes, thank-you," William replied curtly, aware of propriety. As he paced into the room, he reminded himself that professional detachment was required.
"I apologize for the late hour, however I said I would call by this evening, to check on you," he spoke brusquely, as he noticed the vacant expression on Michaela's face.
After gingerly closing the door, William set his black medical bag on the corner of the bed.
"You're looking a lot brighter, I must say," he attempted to conceal his awkwardness with light pleasantries. "This won't take long. Have you been sleeping much today?" William retrieved the stethoscope from his bag and moved around to the farthest side of the bed, Michaela eyeing him suspiciously as he took a seat beside her.
He was thrown by her continued silence. "Michaela?" He frowned slightly and decided to reiterate the question. "How have you been feeling?" When again he did not receive a verbal response, William sighed, and realized he'd need to resort to closed questions as he had the night before.
"At least answer my questions with a nod or a dismissal. Have you been feeling unusually tired today?" He waited several moments until she comprehended his question and shook her head, still not looking at him.
"Fine. Have you felt unwell at all?" Again she dismissed his question. "Have you been monitoring the baby's heartbeat several times throughout the," William didn't even bother pursuing the question when he saw her recoiled and cold expression.
"No, that's understandable. However, you know I need to." He clutched the stethoscope in his right hand and waited for a reaction.
Michaela shrugged lightly, before unfastening the clasp on the back on her skirt and turning onto her back without a single sound. She felt her breathing become shallow as she stared up at the elaborately detailed ceiling.
William took in the rigidity of her movements with increased concern, as he sensitively leant forwards to push aside the gathered fabric of her pale lilac skirt. He brought the bell of the instrument to rest on her exposed flesh, as he alternated his glance subtly between her turned away face, and her protruding abdomen.
"I'm sorry. I know this isn't pleasant." He kept his gaze rested on her hollow expression, as he moved the stethoscope slightly, before locating a consoling heartbeat. "There." He couldn't help the pleased smile that came to his mouth. It lasted only momentarily, however, as William noticed the force Michaela had exerted on her lower lip.
He frowned in concentration as he ensured the satisfactory pace and regularity of the child's heartbeat. William removed the stethoscope from his ears, and worriedly studied her detached expression for several moments longer. "Michaela," he voiced to gain her attention. "Here," His eyes narrowed in intrigue as he slipped the instrument from around his neck and held it out towards her. It was more to gauge her reaction, than in expectation that she would accept the offering.
Her eyes lowered towards a small portion of the finely embroidered quilt by her left side. William understood her rejection, and discreetly returned the instrument to his bag without another word. The room remained deathly silent, as he tentatively reached for her left wrist, Michaela involuntary flinching at the unexpected contact.
"It's all right." He let her wrist drop back to the quilt after having checked her pulse. "Well, you appear to be fully recovered from yesterday's incident," William sidestepped around the issue immediately, whilst he tried to read the emotionally neutral, yet guarded look upon his patient's face.
As he closed the bag beside him, William knew he had to say something. "Michaela, I know it all seems very scary right now and very hard to talk about. However you will, eventually, need to talk. To your sister, to me if you so wish." He picked up his medical bag in his left hand, and remained by the left side of the bed whilst he spoke, "I, we all care about you, very much. We wouldn't have fought to see you here safely if we did not." He felt uncomfortable at such open candor, however believed it was warranted.
"I'll check on you again tomorrow," William muttered softly, his gaze lowered down towards the bag clutched in his hand. As he turned to move from the edge of the bed, William felt his right wrist grasped firmly. The unanticipated movement shocked him more than he thought possible. "What?" He faced her, his eyes searching her lost, soulless expression for any clue as to her motivation behind the gesture.
Michaela felt her jaw move slightly, aware of the unconscious desire to voice the two words she had repeated again and again in her mind ever since she'd arrived the day before. She couldn't. As the air collected in her throat, Michaela willed herself to utter the plea; but no sound was heard.
"You're perfectly safe here. Tell me, Michaela. Please," William perched back on the end of the bed as he clasped her left hand in his, as it remained fastened around his wrist. She simply glanced away, downwards, to watch her chest rise and fall with each breath in and out of her lungs.
"It's all right. I promise you, when you're ready. We're here." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and gently placed it down against her side. "See you tomorrow," he repeated, and departed forlornly from the bedroom.
Michaela quickly readjusted the waistband of her skirt, unable to ignore her swollen stomach, even through the many layers of petticoats and material. As she stared unconnectedly downwards, she remembered more clearly, the events of the previous day. She had felt it. She knew then, what had driven her to such despicable measures. Michaela's eyelids fluttered several times, as she concentrated her attention inwardly. She could not feel that same feeling now. She could not feel anything, aside from mild nausea and the remnants of a headache. She could no longer feel what she had the day before.
Michaela dismissed the realization immediately; it didn't mean anything. In the early stages, the first movements could come and go, only becoming permanent at approximately the sixth month. She tried to separate medical expertise from emotion. It was so difficult to remain as detached as she could have, had she simply been informing someone else.
As she moved back over onto her right side, Michaela heard William's earlier words play over in her mind several times. She wanted to trust him; she wanted more than anything to ask for his help.
Maybe.