Chapter 5

Disturbed by some far off and indecipherable noise, Michaela stirred and stretched. The mid-summer night air was still warm and enveloped her in a velvety blanket of contentment. She opened one bleary eye to the dim, predawn light. Disoriented after days of camping by the trail or sleeping in a tipi, she blinked and looked again, uncertain as to where she was. Moonlight streamed through the lace curtains at the window and she became progressively aware of the soft mattress beneath her, the feather pillow on which her head rested and the cotton sheet that covered her. She smiled and stretched languorously again. She was home. Then she frowned in bemusement. She only vaguely remembered the ride out to the homestead late last night, or nursing William in the rocker by the fireplace, and she certainly didn't recall actually going to bed. She tilted her head to see Sully laying on his side facing her, sound asleep. He'd been anticipating a joyous return home and she'd let him down, not for the first time. Instead of taking pleasure in their opportunity to be alone together after several weeks away with the children, he'd obviously had to assist her into bed. She sighed, a little cross with herself.

She eased up on the pillows a touch and then realised she was still dressed in her camisole and bloomers. She smiled, recognising how difficult it must have been for Sully to undress her when she was all but asleep. She quietly edged herself across and out of bed and made her way to the dresser from which she extracted a light cotton nightgown. In a leisurely fashion, she untied the ribbons of her camisole and shrugged it off her shoulders, dropping it onto the back of the rocker, and then drew her bloomers down and off. She picked up the gown and then, inextricably drawn to the window by the moonlight, she wandered across, checking William in his cot on the way, and stood gazing out at a scene she knew by heart. This place had come to mean so much to her - this place to which she'd come upon her marriage to Sully, this place that had seen the arrival of their two precious babies, this place that had seen the three older children grow into wonderful young adults. She smiled and heaved a contented sigh. She truly had so much to be thankful for. She lifted the feather light gown and began to slip it over her head, but a quiet, seductive voice arrested her. "You don' need that ya know," Sully murmured.

She spun around to face him, the gown held shyly in front of her. Much to her chagrin, she had never quite overcome her prim Boston upbringing.

He was resting on his elbow, his hair mussed from sleep, his eyes agleam. "You look just fine ta me," he added throatily, turning the cotton sheet back and patting the space beside him.

She smiled, stirred by his sensual voice and gaze. She self-consciously brushed her dishevelled hair back behind her shoulders and then walked quietly across the room, carelessly draped the nightgown across the end of the bed and slid in beside him. He immediately drew her close, skin against skin. "You should be sleepin'," he said softly against her ear. "What woke ya?"

She peered up into his eyes. "I don't know," she replied, just as softly. She paused and then said contritely, "I'm sorry about last night ..."

His brow creased. "Last night?" he queried.

"Falling asleep," she returned. "I didn't mean to ..."

He smiled. "Hey," he said. "You were out on your feet ... hadn't slept for more 'an thirty-six hours ..."

"But we had plans ..."

He smiled again and tenderly kissed her forehead. "Plans don't always go the way you expect ... but that don' mean we can't go through with 'em later ..."

"Later?"

"Uh huh ... after you've caught up on your sleep ..."

She took a deep breath. "I'd sleep better if ..."

"If?"

"If  ... I mean after ..."

"After?" he teased.

She smirked when she caught the glint in his eye. She mischievously rolled onto her side away from him and murmured drowsily, "Perhaps I *should* catch up on some more sleep then ..." Striving to control the smile that threatened to come to her lips, she rested her hands under her chin and closed her eyes.

Behind her, Sully sidled closer until his entire body was pressed against hers. His arm came around her and he began to lovingly caress her already warming skin, starting low and then working his way up to her sensitive breasts. She lay as still as possible for as long as she could, until his intensifying ministrations caused her to moan softly and grasp his loving hand in hers. She rolled back slightly so she could look up into his gleaming eyes. "So you *did* know what I meant," she whispered breathily.

"Uh huh ... usually do," he returned huskily, his hand going back to work.

"Don't ever doubt how much I love you Sully," she murmured with adoration, rolling fully onto her back and reaching up to grasp the nape of his neck, to draw his lips down to hers. "I ... I couldn't go on if anything happened to you ..."

He tenderly kissed the corners of her mouth, gradually working his way to the centre. "Nothin's gonna happen ta me Michaela," he muttered between kisses. "You an' me ... we were meant to be together ... always ..." He finally claimed her mouth with his, the kiss deepening urgently, fuelled by the loving banter and touches.

With a passion only the two of them could imagine, they revelled in the joining of their two bodies, two hearts, two souls. While a gentle, warm breeze fluttered the lace curtains at the window, and the children slept soundly in their own beds, Sully and Michaela sated their desire for one another in ways that were at once familiar, yet new and exciting. Their lovemaking, accompanied by loving sighs and moans and urgent, synchronised movement, transported them, as it invariably did, to another time and place, where nothing else mattered or intruded, save their undying passion for each other. And once more the bond that linked them so powerfully was enhanced.

After, they reposed in each other's arms, still enjoying the tender caress of each other's skin. Sully lovingly kissed her temple as he held her against himself, and murmured,  "Sleep now ... still got an hour or two til the kids wake ..."

She nodded, and nestled in against him, absentmindedly tracing circles on his muscular chest. Then, as a thought recurred to her, she said softly, "Sully?"

"Uh huh," he responded, his thoughts wandering.

"The ... the other night," she breathed. "I ... I didn't mean it to come out the way it sounded ... I wasn't really angry with you ..."

"You mean when we were sittin' with Mrs O'Connell by the trail?"

She nodded. "Yes .. I sounded so mean ... even bitter ..."

He squeezed her lovingly. "We'd had quite an afternoon ..."

She nodded. "So ... you see ... I ... I wasn't angry with you ..."

"Just Red Fox ..."

"Mmm ... He doesn't care what he does to innocent families ..." She swallowed. "Something has to be done about him ..."

Sully's hold on her tightened. "Me an' Cloud Dancin' talked about that ..."

"You did?" she asked warily.

He nodded. "Uh huh .... Red Fox is right .... The army'll never find 'em ... unless its by accident ..."

"And?"

"Me an' Cloud Dancin' figure the only way we can help is to go back up there ... see if we can find him ... try ta persuade him to head north ... to the indian territory ..."

She gulped and said fearfully, "And if he won't go?"

He shrugged. "I dunno ... Cloud Dancin's worried about that ..."

She raised herself onto her elbow so she could see his face. "Please ... don't do anything silly ... He's a dangerous man ..."

He frowned. "You know we'll be careful ... but like ya said ... somethin' has to be done about him ..."

"Perhaps it should be left to the army after all ..."

"An' then he'll roam free ... doin' who knows what to other homesteaders like the O'Connells."

She swallowed again and nodded resignedly.  "You're right," she agreed softly. "But ... please ... be careful ... both of you ..."

He kissed her lovingly. "We'll be careful," he promised. "Now forget about that for now an' try ta git some more sleep ... You probably need it ..."

She lay down again, her head resting in its familiar place on his chest, but it was quite a while before sleep at last claimed her. When she closed her eyes an arrogant sneering, war-painted face came to mind causing her heart to pound and her breathing to quicken, this time in fear. How much more damage would Red Fox do before someone was finally able to stop him?

*********************
Reverend Johnson knocked lightly on the recovery room door and when a faint voice responded with a dejected, "Come in," he quietly entered and closed the door behind him again. He stood uncertainly just inside the doorway, a number of brown paper wrapped parcels in his hands. "How are you feeling this morning Mrs O'Connell?" he asked sincerely.

Faith warily eyed the clergyman as he awaited her response. She had not been feeling at all like company the previous evening when he'd called and it had come as quite a shock to discover the man was blind. She knew she'd been rude, but truth to tell, she still didn't feel like baring her soul to a stranger, especially one who couldn't see her. "A little better," she replied curtly.

He held the parcels aloft. "Loren Bray from the mercantile sent these things across for you and the children. He figured you'd need a change of clothes ... and some shoes," he explained, still waiting for her invitation to venture further into the room.

She sighed. "Thank Mr Bray very much," she said dully. "But you can take those things back. I have no way of paying for them as yet ... and I won't accept charity ..."

"Its not a matter of charity Mrs O'Connell," stated the Reverend firmly. "Just someone helping out a friend in need."

"I don't know Mr Bray ... nor do my children ... It was bad enough having to accept nightclothes for them last evening ... And the children usually wear shoes you know ... but it was summer ... and they were playing ... when the fire started ..." She trailed off and tried to quell  the sobs rising in her throat.

Timothy's brow creased. "May I take a seat?" he asked, then moved forward before she could reject his suggestion. He felt around for the back of the wooden chair he knew was close by her bed, then turned it and sat, placing the parcels on the end of the bed. "I know this is difficult for you," he said quietly. "Coming to terms with a tragedy, no matter what its circumstances, is always hard, but please ... we want to help you get back on your feet .... You owe it to your two little ones ...."

Faith frowned. She really had no idea what she was going to do now. Their burnt out homestead seemed a million miles away and Mr Sully had told her there was virtually nothing that could be saved. The dog soldiers had even stolen their two horses. Her eyes welled with tears and she bit her lip. "I ... I ... really don't know what to do ... How am I going to support the children now?" she asked in a fearful whisper. "How am I going to survive without Peter and Hugh?"

Discerning the tears in her voice, the Reverend leant forward in his chair. "What you need to do now is recover from your injuries ... then we can talk about what you might do next ... Perhaps you'll want to return to your homestead ... start again ... perhaps that will be too painful ... but these decisions don't need to made right away ... the children are in the best of care with Colleen and Andrew ..."

She nodded and then realising that he couldn't see, she said reluctantly, "I suppose so ... but I don't want us to be a burden on anyone ..."

"Dr Mike and her family won't mind .. I can promise you that," Timothy reassured her.

Again Faith frowned. "About that ...," she said guardedly.  "I ... I ... don't want the children anywhere near that indian ..."

Timothy's brow creased in puzzlement. "You mean Cloud Dancing?" he asked incredulously.

"That's the one ... It seems he's a friend of Dr Mike and Sully's ... but he's no friend of mine ..."

"Dr Mike told me he's the one saved your life ... stopped you bleeding to death she said," he explained.

Remorse momentarily wavered Faith's resolve, before she said firmly once more, "I don't want anything to do with him ..."

"But he's well known around here ... lots o' the townspeople are friends with him," protested the Reverend.

"That may be ... but it doesn't mean I have to be," Faith rejoined determinedly. "It was Indians like him killed Peter and Hugh ... He's not going to hurt me or my children ..." She paused and winced as the pain in her head suddenly sharpened. "To be truthful," she added quietly. "I'm not even sure about the white folk who make friends with those savages."

"You don' mean Dr Mike and Sully?" queried the Reverend in disbelief. "They're the ones saved your life ... brought you here ..."

She turned her head away from his probing questions. "All I know is it was Indians destroyed my family ... and I'm not ever going to get over that ...," she murmured soulfully. "I'd... I'd like you to go now ... please ...."

The Reverend nodded and stood. "Just ask Colleen to fetch me if you need to talk again ... or pray," he offered quietly. "I'll be here right away ..."

"Uh ... yes ...of course," she replied as he made for the door. As he reached for the doorknob, she added, "Ah ... thankyou ... for your offer ... and also arranging for the children to sleep in here with me last night ... I needed them close ..."

"I could sense that ... Colleen was more than happy to organise it ... They're good people you know ..."

She shook her head. "Not while they keep the friends they keep," she said resentfully.

He sighed and pulled the door open.

Michaela, arriving to check on her patient, had heard the last comments. She'd sensed some resentment from Faith O'Connell, but hadn't been able to put a finger on the cause. Now she knew, and she wasn't sure how to get around it. She straightened her skirt and reached for the door handle just as the Reverend did the same from the other side. She plastered on a smile and with a touch on his arm let him know she was there.

"Dr Mike," he acknowledged soberly. "I suppose you've come to check on your patient?"

"Yes ... yes I have," she returned. "I hope she's feeling a little better this morning."

He stood aside. "I believe so ... but see for yourself," he suggested. "I'll be over at the church if you need me ..."

Michaela nodded, stood aside as he exited the room and then moved toward her patient, assuming a smile she didn't really feel.

**********************
"Ma .. Sully?" said Colleen, her brow creased with worry. "Have you noticed little May ... how she's acting?" They were all standing in the clinic watching the three children, Katie, Douglas and May, play together in the corner, prior to the Sully family leaving for home.

"You noticed too hmmm?" said Andrew from the back of the clinic where he'd been checking supplies.

Jiggling William on her hip, Michaela frowned. "Noticed?" she asked in puzzlement.

"Maybe its cos I've been spending so much time with her," explained Colleen. "But ... well ... have you ever heard her say anything?"

Michaela and Sully exchanged glances and then shook their heads simultaneously.  "Just figured she'd bin through so much she was tryin' ta git over it," Sully answered for them both. "Aint she said anythin' while she's bin here?"

Colleen shook her head. "Not a word," she replied worriedly. "An' watch her with Katie an' Douglas ... She does what her brother tells her, but seems ta ignore Katie ..."

The adults watched on for a while, pondering Colleen's observations. Abruptly, Sully reached for William. He drew the baby boy from Michaela's arms and then strode across the room to the three young children. "Thought William might like ta play too," he commented, as he placed him on the floor with the children. "You look after him now."

Katie beamed up at her pa and nodded vehemently, while Douglas reached across and tickled the baby under the ribs, causing him to giggle. While Katie and Douglas joined in the baby's laughter, May remained passive, placing one building block on top of the other until the tower became too tall and toppled over, at which point she began again. The adults watched on worriedly. At last Sully said quietly, "Maybe she was like this before the fire ... someone oughta talk to her ma ..."

"I .. I'm not sure we should be bothering Mrs O'Connell with this at the moment," recommended Michaela. "She's still very weak ... worry will only impede her recovery ..."

Her eyes fixed on the children, Colleen said thoughtfully, "I'll have a talk to Douglas at supper ... or maybe when they're goin' ta bed ..."

"If this *is* caused by the fire ... what can we do about it?" asked Sully with a frown.

All four adults exchanged worried looks. At last Michaela replied, "I don't know .. she's so little ... and experienced something horrific ... She may never recover."

Sully regarded her in horror. "You mean this could be permanent?" he exclaimed. "That can't be!"

Michaela swallowed. "It probably won't be," she said quickly, trying to reassure herself as much as the others. "She's very young ... All we can do is try to provide her ... and her family ...with some stability ... and friendship."

Sully abruptly drew her close in against himself. "Red Fox has gotta pay," he stated firmly. "He can't keep doin' what he's doin'."

Michaela wrapped her arm around his waist comfortingly and rested her head against his shoulder knowing that Sully would never abide children being hurt, no matter what the circumstance.

Chapter 6

The entire Sully family and several of the townspeople stood impatiently peering down the railroad tracks towards Denver, anticipating the arrival of the morning's Denver Rio Grande train. The hot summer sun was already beating down, baking the dirt road and creating a shimmering effect where the ground was hardest and smoothest. As Horace emerged from the telegraph office, Sully called up to him, "On time Horace?"

The telegraph operator nodded. "Was when it left Denver," he returned loudly. "Should be here any minute now."

There were smiles all round, then Colleen, seizing the opportunity, gently tugged on her mother's sleeve and drew her aside. "Before the train comes ma," she began. "I wanted a tell you ... I talked to Douglas ... about May ..."

Michaela nodded. "And?" she prompted.

Colleen shrugged, her brow creased in puzzlement. "It was hard to know what to ask him ... but I got the feelin' May's usually fine ... He said she loves to play act with her dolls ... an' tell stories ... so she must talk usually ... an' he told me their pa used to play with 'em a lot and take them both out to the barn to feed the animals ... They had names for all of them ... May's favourite was a new calf ..."

"She sounds like any normal four year old ..."

Colleen nodded. "That's what I thought ... but she's sure not acting normal now ..."

"There's no change from yesterday?" queried Michaela.

Colleen shook her head. "She spends most of her time curled up beside her ma ... or she sticks close to Douglas ... an' she still hasn't said a word," she explained softly.

"And Mrs O'Connell hasn't mentioned it?"

"No ... but she must be starting to notice ..."

Michaela pondered the matter for a moment before coming to a decision. "We'll leave it one more day ... I'll be back at the clinic tomorrow and if things haven't changed with May I'll speak to Mrs O'Connell then," she said resolutely. "In the meantime, just do all you can for her, and make sure she's not separated from her mother or her brother." She paused and bit her lip. "It just doesn't seem fair that such a tiny child should have been made to endure so much," she added, fighting the tears welling in her eyes.

Colleen reached out to grasp her mother's hand comfortingly. "Pa an' Cloud Dancing are ready ta go?" she asked softly.

Michaela nodded mutely.

"They'll do somethin' about him ... I know they will ..."

Michaela swallowed. "But Red Fox is so dangerous," she murmured in a strangled whisper.

Colleen's hold on her mother's hand tightened. "They can look after themselves ma ... They leaving today?" Both heads suddenly flew up as a train whistle sounded in the distance. Michaela took a deep breath and quickly explained, "Yes ... this afternoon ... after we've welcomed Matthew and Kathleen home ..." She returned the reassuring squeeze of her daughter's hand and then they quickly went back to their places beside their family.

Matthew emerged first from the rear door of the train carriage, his new bride's hand firmly grasped in his. He carefully guided her down the steps to the ground and then both were suddenly enveloped in welcoming and enthusiastic embraces. At last Michaela stepped back from hugging her son and, hands still on his shoulders, appeared to examine him carefully, before stating proudly, "Marriage seems to agree with you." He blushed profusely, causing a bout of good-natured laughter from all those present.

Sully, observing the young man's discomfit, clapped him reassuringly on the back and said, "Come on ... Robert E an' me'll help ya collect your luggage while the ladies talk ..."

Matthew regarded him sheepishly. "Ah ... Sully ... there's an awful lot of it ... Kathleen brought some things from Charleston ... It aint gonna all fit in your wagon ..."

Robert E, standing by them both, chuckled. "I'll go hitch up another wagon from the livery an' be back in a jiffy ... We'll git all your stuff to your new place Matthew...," he offered.

Matthew smiled gratefully. "Thanks Robert E ... Kathleen'll be pleased ..." With a nod, the blacksmith hastened away down the street and then Matthew and Sully strode to the rear of the train where the baggage was being unloaded.

Her arm around her new daughter in law's shoulders, Michaela asked, "Did you enjoy your trip? How was Charleston?" Then added, before Kathleen could reply, "You look a little pale."

Kathleen lowered her eyes. "It's a long trip Michaela," she said softly. "We've been travelling for several days."

"Of course you have," responded Michaela immediately. "Now, while the men load the wagon, tell us what you did in Charleston ... Catch up with some old friends? ..."

Kathleen's eyes flew to the rear of the train where the men were struggling with a large and obviously heavy trunk and she smiled. "It was wonderful," she said with contentment. "I showed Matthew the city I grew up in ... and he insisted I bring some things I wanted to our new house ... things from home ... I'm afraid there was rather a lot in the end ..." She turned to Michaela and Colleen and said earnestly, "It was so strange being home ... The house has been closed up since Thomas was there in the winter ... everything is shrouded in dustcovers ... Our housekeeper, Mrs Blakely, is still there, but she's really only ensuring the house is kept safe ... It was home ... but it wasn't ..."

"No regrets?" asked Michaela quietly, already certain she knew the answer.

A broad smile appeared on the young woman's face. "Not one," she said adamantly. "I can't wait to settle into our new homestead ..."

They began to walk towards the wagon. "We moved yours and Matthew's belongings over there this morning," Michaela explained. She glanced across at Colleen and smiled. "I remember coming home from my honeymoon ... I couldn't wait either ... we had to move that very morning ...," she murmured conspiratorially. The women all chuckled and, with a definite skip in their step, joined the rapidly tiring men.

*********************
Reverend Johnson knocked on the recovery room door and then pulled it open. "Mrs O'Connell ... you awake?" he asked quietly.

"Yes ... I'm awake," she replied dully from a chair by the open window, through which a warm breeze wafted.

"You're out of bed today!" exclaimed the Reverend with a smile.

Faith frowned. "How did you ...?"

"How did I know when I couldn't see you?" he finished.

"Ah ... yes ..." replied the woman.

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "The same way I know that Grace has meatloaf on the menu today and old Buck Stone over at the saloon has had a skinful ... I may not be able to see you ... but that doesn't mean I'm ignorant of what goes on around me ... The direction of your voice told me you were in a different part of the room ...," he explained quietly.

Despite him not being able to observe her, she dropped her eyes to the floor, abashed.

"You must be feeling better today then ...," he continued. "If you've been allowed out of bed ..."

"Dr Mike says its time to start moving around ... and the pain is much less now ..."

The Reverend sat himself in the wooden chair by the bed. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied. "I also believe the children are not in the room? ...," he queried.

"Grace from the café took them over there for an early supper ... She said she'd bring mine back when they return," explained Faith, her tone disinterested. 

The Reverend leant forward in his chair. "And how are the children doing?" he asked intently.

She shrugged her shoulders and then replied, "As well as can be expected I suppose ..."

"From what I hear ... Douglas is a brave little boy ..."

She swallowed deeply and then answered in a low tone, "He gets that from his father ..."

"And May?" queried the Reverend. "How is she? You know I've never heard her speak ... or laugh ... or play? I've heard Douglas talk to her ... but she doesn't seem to reply ... I thought perhaps ..."

Faith's brow creased at the Reverend's observations. "You must be mistaken ... She's a bright little girl ...," she interjected, a touch indignantly.

He shook his head. "I hear as you see," he responded. "I would remember ..."

She shook her head in first incredulity and then fear. "She's ... she's just trying to overcome a tragic ordeal ... She'll ... she'll be fine," she opined, trying to reassure herself.

"I never meant to suggest anything untoward," rejoined Timothy hastily. "I just wondered ..."

"Oh God," muttered Faith weakly. "I ... I should have noticed ..."

"You too are trying to overcome an ordeal ..."

"But I should have noticed ...."

"There may be nothing wrong ... I shouldn't have mentioned it ..."

Faith heaved a deep sigh, and remained silent.

"Mrs O'Connell?" he asked quietly. "Please ... don't worry ... at least not yet ... Its only a few days since ..." He trailed off. 

She snorted derisively. "Since that indian and his men destroyed my family!" she retorted angrily. Needing to take her anger out on someone, she raised her eyes and demanded scornfully, "What are you doing here anyway? ... I didn't ask you to come ..."

"Colleen and Dr Mike asked me," replied the Reverend, keeping his tone neutral. "Because they were going to be out at the homestead with their family this afternoon and evening."

"The children and I are just fine on our own," responded Faith immediately. "We don't need looking after."

"I'm aware of that ... I just wondered whether you might like company ..."

She shook her head and then said decisively, "No ... we don't ... thank-you ... at least for now ..."

The Reverend rose from his chair. "I'll be leaving then," he said quietly. "But I will check back after supper ... to see if you ... or the children ... need anything ..."

She swallowed, again regretting her outburst. "Ah ... yes ... thank-you," she replied, her tone low. As he strode to the door and pulled it open, she added, "I'm sorry Reverend ... I'm not usually so ... so ... rude ... I'm afraid things are all a little difficult to take at the moment."

He swivelled around and smiled at her. "I know," he said simply. "And I don't mind really ... I'm sure things *will* get better."

She took a deep breath. "I hope so," she muttered in a whisper, her hand rising to her bandaged face. "I really do hope so ..."

He nodded and quietly left the room.

**********************
Michaela and Sully emerged from the house hand in hand and made their way to the top of the porch steps. A teary eyed Dorothy climbed the last two steps, acknowledged them with a nod, brushed past and entered the house, while in the yard Cloud Dancing stood quietly waiting, the reins of two horses in his hand.

Michaela turned to Sully and their eyes met and held. At last, Sully said quietly, "It'll only be a few days."

She swallowed and nodded. "I know ... but ... well ... you *will* be careful ... won't you?"

"Course I will," he replied at once. "Me an' Cloud Dancin' know this man ..."

"Perhaps he's changed since he rode with Black Moon?"

Sully shook his head. "He was always kinda defiant ..."

She lowered her eyes. "I just hope he hasn't done too much more damage since the O'Connells."

"Guess we aint ta know ... but me an' Cloud Dancin'll do our best ta stop him ..."

She abruptly stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'll be thinking of you all the time you're away," she whispered against his ear.

He embraced her and drew her close in against himself. "Same here," he returned lovingly. "Look after the kids for me ..."

She nodded and rested her cheek against his chest. "I love you Sully," she murmured, her voice barely audibly.

He squeezed her lovingly, acknowledging the fact that he'd heard and then stepped back a little. "Better go," he said with a half smile. He glanced up into the clear blue summer sky. "Still about three hours o' daylight left ... Should get ta where we last saw Red Fox by late tomorra mornin' ... then it'll be a matter o' trackin' him after that ... Course we might come across him sooner ..."

Her hold on his hand tightened. "Please ... approach him warily ... He didn't seem too pleased to let us go last time ..."

He nodded, dipped his head to kiss her soundly, and then strode down the steps to where Cloud Dancing patiently waited. The two men agilely mounted and then peered up toward the house. Dorothy at the open door, and then Michaela, raised their hands and waved. Both men nodded and then rode swiftly out of the yard in a cloud of dust.

**********************
"Hey Reverend," greeted Douglas, as he made his way down the landing to the recovery room at the clinic. He was dressed in his nightshirt and smelled of soap. "You come ta visit with us again?" he asked.

The Reverend smiled. Despite his ordeal, Douglas always sounded welcoming and friendly. "Just to see if you or your mother need anything ..." replied the Reverend. He was touched when he felt a little hand slip into his.

"We're gettin' ready for bed," the little boy stated, leading him into the room. "Even though its still early," he added with the typical disgust of a child. The Reverend smiled more broadly.

"Its late enough for two children who need their sleep," Faith responded assuredly.

Timothy was struck by the woman's tone. It was different to the way she had sounded this afternoon, more positive, more lilting. "I won't disturb you then," he said quietly. "Just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed."

"We're fine Reverend," replied Faith. "And thank-you ... for everything ..."

"You're welcome," he rejoined immediately. He turned toward the door only to be arrested by Douglas asking hopefully, "You know any good stories Reverend?" He spun back. "Ah yes ... a few," he replied, unsure as to what   Mrs O'Connell's reaction would be.

"Maybe you could tell us one?" wheedled the little boy.

"Well ... if its alright with your mother."

"I think the children would enjoy it," Faith returned.

"Very well" he replied. "Douglas ... perhaps you could show me where you'd like me to sit ..."

The little boy immediately clambered up off his bed and ran across to take the Reverend's hand. "Over here sir," he said positively.

Once settled by the children's beds, the Reverend took a deep breath and began, "Once ... long long ago, lived an old man in a cabin by a stream ..."

Faith settled back against her pillow and listened to the Reverend's assured, soothing voice as he weaved a tale of adventure. Douglas's face was a picture, his eyes bright, his expression eager. May, on the other hand, lay on her back staring up at the ceiling. Occasionally, in a particularly exciting part of the story, her eyes would dart to the Reverend's, but for the most part she appeared to be only half listening. So it was with astonishment that, as the story neared its conclusion, Faith observed her tiny daughter suddenly sit up and silently crawl onto the Reverend's knee to nestle in against his chest, something she'd seen her do many times in the past with her father. Tears sprang to Faith's eyes and she swallowed to stifle the sob that threatened to escape.

Timothy tried desperately to maintain his demeanour as the tiny child crept onto his knee. His hands came up to embrace her protectively and he lightly kissed the top of her head, before continuing on with his story.

********************
Michaela quietly stepped out onto the homestead porch and peered up at the millions of stars twinkling in the night sky. It was probably well after midnight, the day's light breeze had dissipated and the air was heavy with warmth rising from the sun-baked earth. She sat herself on the top step and took a deep breath. It was so quiet, so peaceful, here. Again she peered up into the infinite sky, then sent a silent and fervent prayer to God to keep Sully and Cloud Dancing safe and to bring them home to their loved ones as soon as possible.

Continued ....