Chapter 5

Sully did his best to keep a light disposition at the dinner table, however nothing could keep the heaviness at bay. After they had finished dining, the children offered to clean up and Michaela was grateful; Sully had quietly snuck upstairs and she wanted to join him.

A worried conversation struck among the siblings, as they shared their fears for their father with one another.

"How could this of happened?" Colleen stood at the sink. "Pa's always been so healthy and strong."

"Perhaps it's hereditary," her husband reasoned. "Do we know anything about Sully's family history."

The siblings looked at one another with blank expressions.

"No," Colleen said.

"Maybe we could ask Daniel," Brian thought. "He might know something."

They nodded in agreement.

"Sully never had any prior illnesses?" Andrew inquired.

"Can't even remember the last time he had a catarrh," Matthew said. "He's been hurt many times but illness," he shook his head.

"Other than his migraines," Colleen mentioned. "You know we've had typhus, influenzas, diphtheria, that outbreak at Ma's clinic and Sully's never caught a thing."

"He must have a strong immune system," Andrew said.

Colleen handed the washed dishes to her husband to dry.

"It's more than that," she said. "There's something about Sully…his spirit, he's…the strongest person I've ever known. He and ma have fought against so much, this almost doesn't seem fair."

XXXXX

An inviting cool breeze blew in from the opened the window. Sully stood there staring out into the night sky. It was clear night, a vast number of stars shone in the distance; gazing upward, he recalled years ago when he would sleep under the stars. How he never dared to imagine his life to turn out this way, the good and bad. Somehow the good always outweighed the bad.

He remembered when he first came to this land, from New York City. He'd never seen mountains so high, smelled air for fresh or saw the sun so brightly. It was in this place, Sully met life, love and the Lord and it was this place he wished to live his final moments. He knew he really shouldn't ponder on such things, but when you're in such a boat as this, you really can't help it. Thinking back on the words of his mother, how she always told him it was the city that broke his father; he understood that better now.

Sully hadn't heard Michaela steal up behind him; but he wasn't alarmed by her touch on his back.

"Sully," her voice was gentle and soothing. "Are you all right?'

He momentarily remained silent and finally replied with a nod and blink of his eyes.

"It's getting late," she stroked his hair. "Why don't we go to bed?"

"In a minute," he reached for her hand. "Come here."

Allowing her husband to guide her, Michaela stood before him with her back against his chest.

"It's so beautiful," she said.

Sully hummed in agreement in her ear.

The couple gazed out the window for a while. Each feeling one another's pain and their own fears, strongly.

"Sully," Michaela said, holding his arms that were around his waist.

"I know," he inhaled the scent of her hair.

Michaela closed her eyes, relishing his embrace.

"I wish," she couldn't find the words.

Sully however, could always verbalize the expressions of her heart.

"We could just stop time…me too."

Gently reaching for her shoulders, Sully turned her to face him; willingly, she did so.

"Then let's do that," he drew his hands up to her cheek.

As he cupped her face in his hands, Michaela saw nothing but him and all they shared together. His deep ocean eyes peered into hers and she saw once again the mystery and wonder that she fell in love with years ago.

"Right now," his tone was precise and comforting. "It's just you and me…nothing can come between us," he brought her hand to his heart.

Michaela leaned forward and laid her head against his strong chest. Focusing on his heartbeat that felt like her very own.

She had so many questions, so many fears, so many what ifs. He had so much pain, restlessness and also what ifs; but in that moment, the fears stopped knocking at the door and left them alone. As long as they held onto one another, it left them alone and both were too afraid to let go, at least for tonight.

XXXXX

After the house was asleep, Daniel found himself restless. The heaviness of his heart prevented him from sleeping. He went outside to clear his head; and Daniel being a man of faith knew nothing else to do but pray. He knew his brother always had a difficult time with his belief, but he hoped his prayers would bring him some kind of reassurance. Facing many hardships in his life, Daniel could not be more convinced of the Lord's existence. Now more than ever he relied on him.

He walked around the property for many hours that night. Pouring his heart out to his Father for his brother's behalf. Overtaken by the emotion, Daniel was at a loss for words. His tears were his prayers now as he fell to his knees. When the emotion seized all that was left was the cool wind and the sounds of night.

"I have prayed to my spirits also," a familiar voice spoke from behind him.

Rising to his feet, Daniel composed himself and turned.

"You know?" He already knew to answer.

Drawing near from the shadows, Cloud Dancing nodded his head.

"I stayed in the mountains many days, hoping they were wrong," he said. "But one cannot fight against the will of the spirits."

Daniel although respected his friend's beliefs, could not share them and he found no comfort in his sayings. However, he realized there was something profound about Cloud Dancing and he silently prayed for his salvation.

"What do your spirits say?" Cloud Dancing wondered.

Daniel leaned on the fence and took in a deep breath.

"This ain't gonna be just Sully's fight," he replied. "There's something more here than just him getting sick."

"I believe you are right," Cloud Dancing said.

Daniel looked at him.

"It is more than just an illness," the medicine man said.

"What is it?" Daniel asked.

"I am not sure."

Daniel gazed upward at the night sky.

"My people believe that when a person is ill it can also be a sign of a spiritual sickness."

"Could be," Daniel said.

"What do your people believe?" Cloud Dancing inquired.

Daniel looked at him with a frown of uncertainty.

"My people?"

"Your beliefs?" Cloud Dancing clarified.

"For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen."

Cloud Dancing had never heard such a response. He knew Daniel in believed in what he called the white men's God, but he had never seen those man so display such certainty or diligence; it made him have a definite respect for Daniel.

"We have much to pray for, my brother," Cloud Dancing extended a hand.

Daniel nodded and accepted.

XXXXX

Sometime during the night, Michaela turned over and felt moisture beneath her arm. Becoming more aware, she sat up and reached for her husband; she perceived Sully to be perspiring profusely.

"Sully," she brushed the hair from his face.

Sully, breathing heavily turned to her.

"Mi…Michaela," his voice was hoarse.

"Oh, you're soaked," she drew back the cover.

Rising from the bed, she filled a basin with cool water and fetched a cloth. Returned to him, she put on a lamp. She unbuttoned his night shirt and began working to cool him off.

"Michaela," he reached for her hand.

"I'm here," she reassured.

"My head…" he shut his eyes.

"Shh," she laid a cloth over his forehead. "I'll brew you some tea for your headache," she said.

"No," he squeezed her hand, tightly. "Don't…leave me."

"I won't leave you," she stroked his forehead. "But I need to go downstairs to make the tea. It will help you, Sully, please."

Exhaling loudly, Sully put his head back on the pillow and nodded.

"Hurry back," he pleaded.

"I will," she kissed his cheek and departed.

Michaela prepared the tea as fast as she could, not wanting Sully to try to move about. Upstairs, Sully's pain had significantly increased. He was reminded of his state just a few days prior, before his diagnosis, when he was ill. How he never imagined how things could escalate so quickly. However, his pain stopped him from pondering and he sank into the bed.

Feeling a strange sensation run down his beard, Sully slowly sat up and wiped his face. At that moment, Michaela returned and grew concerned.

"Sully," she came around the bed.

"Michaela," he became alarmed and showed her his hand.

A significant amount of blood marked is hand and dripped from his nostrils.

"It's all right," she grabbed a cloth. "Sit up."

Sitting back, Sully allowed his wife to tend to him. Michaela held his nose close with a wet cloth.

"Breathe through your mouth," she directed.

He did so and glanced at her.

"I'm sorry," his voice was slightly muffled.

"Shh," she stroked his hair. "There's nothing to apologize for."

Sully sighed with a nod, still feeling bad but he knew he needed her help.

After a few minutes, Michaela removed the cloth and instructed him to blow his nose. The cloth came clean and she sighed in relief.

"You may lay down in a few moments," she said. "Does your head still hurt?'

"Yeah," he rubbed his temples.

Michaela reached for the steaming cup of tea.

"Here you are."

After consuming a significant amount of the healing liquid, Sully laid back down. Still holding his wife's hand, he willed for sleep to take over. Coming behind him, Michaela spooned herself against him rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"Michaela," he suddenly reached for her.

"I'm here," she whispered in his ear.

"H-hold…me."

She held him tighter and gently rocked him until he drifted off. It was while before Michaela was able to fall asleep herself, keeping an eye on Sully, making sure he was all right.