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Chapter 7
Michaela
pulled the clinic door open and ushered her patient out onto the porch. "Now Mr
Malloy ... don't forget ... you must use that ointment three times a day until the ulcer
is healed ...," she patiently reiterated. The
frail, elderly man nodded and lifted the tin of ointment to show her he understood. She
smiled and gently rested her hand on his shoulder. "So I'll see you in two weeks ...
unless the ulcer worsens and then I'd want to see you back here straight away ...
alright?" He
nodded and limped off down the street towards the mercantile. Turning back to the bench by
the door, Michaela suddenly registered that Dorothy was waiting for her. The older woman
stood. "You got a minute Michaela? Before your next patient?" "Of
course ...," replied Michaela at once. "Come in ... I don't have another
appointment scheduled until after lunch ..." The
two women entered the clinic and Dorothy immediately made for the examination table where
she spread out a copy of the Denver Post. "Its this mornin's Denver paper
Michaela," she said urgently. "I knew you'd want ta see this ..." She
pointed to an article that took up a good third of the page. Michaela
bent over the newspaper and, as she read, her heart began to pound and her body tense.
"Renegade Indians Massacre More Homesteaders, Corporal Shot," she read the
headline aloud. She raised anguished eyes to her friend. "Oh God Dorothy," she
muttered in horror. "Not Red Fox?" "Ya
better read on," Dorothy instructed, her tone serious. Again
Michaela bent forward. "Two more families," she muttered as she read. "Two
more homesteads burned ... Massacres are indiscriminate ... No survivors ... A young
corporal on scouting duty shot in the back ..." She halted and took a deep breath.
"What are Sully and Cloud Dancing walking into?" she murmured in horror. Dorothy
wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulder. "They know him Michaela," she
rejoined, attempting reassurance. "That's
what Sully said ... but ..." "Red
Fox let us go on the trail cos o' Sully ... an' he didn' even know Cloud Dancin' was
travellin' with us ..." Michaela
turned to look into her close friend's eyes. "If they *do* find him ... what then? He
doesn't seem the kind of man who will just surrender peacefully ... or retreat to the
northern indian lands ..." Dorothy
took a deep breath. "Gotta admit that's what's got me most worried ... I dunno what
they're gonna do ...," she returned. "This
is my fault," confessed Michaela worriedly. Dorothy's
brow creased in puzzlement. "How do ya
figure that Michaela?" she scoffed good-naturedly. "You certainly didn' have
anythin' ta do with what made Red Fox so angry ..." "No
... but I chastised Sully for letting those men ride off when he knew what had happened at
the O'Connells ..." "An'
what else was he supposed ta do? I was there Michaela ... I saw the rifles ... Sully had
no choice ..." Michaela
hung her head. "I know that ... we talked about it ... but if I hadn't said what I
did to him ..." "They'd've
gone anyway ... both of 'em," responded Dorothy instantly. "They've both got it
in 'em to do what's right ... Neither one of 'em coulda stood by down here while Red Fox
goes on with what he's doin' ... You had nothin' to do with their decision ..." Again
Michaela raised her eyes to Dorothy's. "Aren't you worried about them?" she
asked wonderingly. Dorothy's
eyes opened wide. "Course I'm worried about 'em ... I'm worried sick about it all ...
but you an' me don't have a say in the matter Michaela ... They're always gonna do what
they think is right ..." "Like
Sully trying to free Cloud Dancing from Palmer Creek," murmured Michaela in a small
voice. "Uh
huh ..." Michaela
swallowed and gave her friend a wan smile. "You've grown very wise Dorothy," she
said with deep respect. Her
friend chuckled. "Must be the company I keep," she returned. She grasped her
friend's hand. "Come on ... lets go to Grace's for some lunch ... I think we could
both use some bright company." Michaela
squeezed her friend's hand gratefully and turned to lock the clinic door. ********************** The
first burnt-out homestead had been shocking enough. Not far from the trail on which they'd
encountered Red Fox just a few days earlier, the house and barn had been burnt to the
ground and two fresh graves had been dug in a nearby field. But
the second, discovered late the previous afternoon, had devastated them both. It was
obvious the destruction had been wrought within the past twenty-four hours and a small
contingent of soldiers had only just arrived on the scene. An entire family of five still
lay where they'd been slain. With Cloud Dancing remaining hidden in the brush, Sully had
offered assistance, asked some questions, and quickly come to the conclusion that this was
indeed the work of Red Fox. The soldiers seemed at a loss, even a little afraid,
understandably so when Sully learned that one of their own had been shot in the back the
evening before, most likely by the same indians. Now
Sully and Cloud Dancing were back on the trail of Red Fox, both unsure as to what they
would do when they eventually found him. It was the arrogance and the audacity of the man
that both astounded and frightened them. To their amazement, they'd discovered he did not
fear travelling by the main trails and sometimes moved within only a few miles of small
settlements. He was not difficult to track either. Four men on horseback, leading at least
four other horses, left plenty of telltale signs for those who could recognise them. Less
than an hour before, they'd come across the extra horses loosely tethered deep in the
woods, so they knew they had to be getting close. Sully
reined in his horse and peered up into the clear sky. The summer sun was relentless and
there was little breeze. "How much longer you wanna go on?" he asked his brother
as he mopped his sweating brow. Cloud
Dancing halted, running his hand comfortingly down his horse's neck. "The horses must
be watered," he said determinedly. "But we should then continue." Sully
nodded. Both were mindful of the havoc Red Fox and his men could be wreaking in the
meantime. They rode their horses into a shallow stream to let them drink, slid from their
backs and slaked their own thirsts. In the shade of overhanging branches and the coolness
of the water, they could almost believe this to be a peaceful place. They did not linger
long and soon remounted, once again on the trail of Red Fox. Late
that same afternoon, as the still fiery sun was making its descent in the western sky,
Cloud Dancing abruptly reined in his horse and signalled to Sully to also stop and remain
silent. Ahead, beyond a curve in the trail, raised voices could be heard, their words
indecipherable, their tone heated. The pair exchanged worried glances and then nudged
their horses in the ribs, urging them forward. Around the bend the extent of the problem
came into view. The dog soldiers, led by Red Fox, had ambushed a young family travelling
in a large covered wagon bearing all their worldly goods. Red
Fox's rifle rose and aimed at the two horsemen as they approached His eyes narrowed and
his jaw set when he recognised the riders who halted and then slid from their horses'
backs, their hands in full view of the renegade. "I told you last time I never wanted
to see you again Sully," Red Fox stated disdainfully. His eyes met Cloud Dancing's.
"You are still riding with this man?" he queried with disbelief. "After
what has happened to our people?" "Sully
did not destroy the Cheyenne," responded Cloud Dancing quietly. The
dog soldier snorted with disgust. "He is a white man," he sneered. "They
are all the same." He raised his disgusted eyes to the terrified family of three in
the covered wagon. Cloud
Dancing shook his head. "No ... you are wrong ... They are not all the same ... just
as all Cheyenne are not the same ...," he adjured. "Sully has done much for our
people ..." Again
Red Fox scoffed, "So where are our people now medicine man?" "Living
peacefully in the north ..." "A
few of many thousands," the dog soldier sneered. "I
too do not like what has happened to the Cheyenne ... but Sully is not to blame ...,"
Cloud Dancing rejoined. He cast his eyes up
to the frightened family. "Nor are these people," he added quietly. "They
have come here to take the Cheyenne lands ..." "They've
come here to make a home ... They do not mean to harm the indians ..." Red
Fox raised his rifle menacingly. "The white man will never live free here when the
Cheyenne must die or run," he warned, slowly moving his rifle from first Sully, then
to the terrified family in the wagon. ********************** "You
got a problem Michaela?" chuckled Hank, as he stooped to pick up her bag. He'd just
exited the Chateau and was heading toward his horse tethered in the shade. She
started in surprise at the deep male voice and then smiled wryly as she finally managed to
release William's hold. "He seems to have a fascination for my hair," she
remarked good-humouredly, tenderly rubbing her scalp where it still smarted. Hank's
eyebrows rose and he seemed about to make a quip, then thought better of it. Instead he
changed the subject. "Sully in town?" he asked unexpectedly. Michaela
frowned. "Ah ... no ... actually he's away at the moment ..." "But
you only just got back!" he rejoined in surprise. He grimaced. "Let me guess ...
its gotta be either indians or some job for that Smith fella ..." When Michaela
remained silent, he grinned smugly. "I'm right aint I?' he chortled. "How long's
he's gonna be away this time?" She
shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure ... it depends ..." "Depends?" "On
... on how long it takes ...," she murmured uncertainly. Hank
frowned. "What *is* he doin' Michaela?" he asked. "You look kinda worried.
He aint got himself into trouble again?" She
immediately shook her head. "No .. of course not ... well not like that anyway,"
she rejoined. "He'll be just fine," she asserted, trying to convince herself as
much as the barkeep. He
regarded her face carefully. "You're hidin' somethin' Michaela," he muttered.
"Somethin' the town council should know about?" She
met his gaze. "No ... not at all ...," she responded sincerely. "It has
nothing at all to do with Colorado Springs ... Why were you asking about him?" He
shrugged his shoulders casually. "Said he'd start on my house when ya got back ...
Was wonderin' when he might be doin' that," he admitted. "But if he's away agin
..." He trailed off and tickled William under his chin, causing him to giggle. "I'm
sure he has every intention of beginning very soon Hank," she reassured him, jiggling
the baby on her hip. "So you're going ahead with the house hmmm? ... I thought you
may have changed your mind ..." He
gave her a wry smile. "It's a good investment ... that's what they say about property
aint it ..." "Not
when its tenanted rent free," she teased. "Myra
won't be livin' in it rent free," he asserted. She
smiled. "Uh huh," she returned with a grin. When he refrained from commenting
further and deliberately lifted his hat onto his head, she desisted with her teasing.
"Speaking of Myra," she said. "Is she working on the reception desk this
afternoon?" He
shook his head. "Its her afternoon off," he answered. "Last I saw her she
was sittin' out back in the shade with Samantha an' Bess ..." Michaela
glanced at the watch pinned to her blouse. "I may have time before my next patient to
visit with them," she mused. "They'd
like that," he returned, moving off towards his horse. "Tell Sully when he gits
back I still wanna go on with the house ... alright?" She
nodded. "I will," she said. As he climbed up onto his horse and rode off, she
added worriedly under her breath, "As soon as he gets back." Michaela
made her way into the Chateau lobby where, unexpectedly, the heat of the day had also
managed to permeate. The lack of breeze through the front doors made the heat hang heavily
in the air. She strode through to the clinic
which she unlocked, then checked her appointment book. She still had nearly half an hour
before her first patient. Adjusting her son on her hip, she wandered towards the back of
the establishment seeking her friends. Myra's
face lit up when she spied Michaela exit the rear doors of the Chateau. She immediately
stood and beckoned her across to her side. "Hey Dr Mike," she said with a
welcoming smile as Michaela neared. "Didn' know you were back from your trip
..." "Arrived
home a few days ago," she replied, handing William to an eager Bess. "I haven't
had a chance to visit with anyone though ... I've had a patient at the clinic ..." "Bad?"
asked Myra worriedly. Michaela
sat down and hauled Samantha up onto her lap. "Bad enough," she said in a low
tone, cuddling the little girl. "A family of three ... We came across them on the way
home ... attacked by dog soldiers ..." "Near
here?" asked Myra in alarm. Michaela
immediately shook her head. "No ... some ways north of here ..." "What's
dog soldiers mama?" asked Samantha innocently. Myra
swallowed. "Ah ... just some bad men honey," she replied. The
little girl frowned. "An' they hurt some people?" she asked of Michaela with
concern. "Ah
... yes ... they did," she replied cautiously. "They
gonna be alright?" Michaela
nodded. "Yes ... they are ... Perhaps when you're in town you can visit with Douglas
and May ... Douglas is a little older than you ... and May a little younger." Samantha
eyed her mother hopefully. "Can I ma?" she asked eagerly. "Sure
ya can honey," replied Myra. "They might need some new friends right now
..." The
little girl beamed. "I'm gonna go tell Charlie 'bout the two kids," she
exclaimed, sliding from Michaela's knee. She scampered off into the Chateau interior
watched by the three indulgent women. "Dog
soldiers Michaela?" queried a nonplussed Bess after a few moments Michaela
lowered her eyes to her lap, and explained quietly, "Indians who have decided to
fight ... for their land ... their freedom ..." "And
they attack innocent families?" Michaela
shook her head. "No ... not usually ... but this time ..." She took a deep
breath. "Its only a very small group ... Red Fox ... and three of his followers
..." "You
know 'em!?" exclaimed Myra in horror. "We
came across them on the trail ... on the way home ..," responded Michaela. "They
let us go ... because of Sully ..." "And
if he hadn't been there?" asked Bess, suspecting she already knew the answer. "Then
we'd probably be lying dead too ... like Douglas and May's father and brother,"
finished Michaela, her lip trembling. Both
women gasped in horror. "You've
met this man before?" Bess urged after a moment. "Sully
knows him ... He's not like the rest ... he's set on revenge and revenge only ..." Bess's
eyes suddenly opened wide. "He's the one I've read about ... isn't he? ... But not by
name ... The story was in the Denver Post ... The army has been unable to find him
...," she exclaimed. Michaela
nodded and Bess sat back in her chair, flabbergasted. "So what happens now?" she
asked incredulously. "The authorities must be told ..." When Michaela remained
silent, Bess asked, "Michaela? ... Is something being done about him?" She
nodded and admitted fearfully, "Sully and Cloud Dancing are up there now ... They've
been gone a few days ... They're trying to find him ..." "An'
what's gonna happen when they do?" Myra inquired with concern. "This Red Fox
don' sound like the sort o' man who's just gonna up an' surrender .." Michaela
raised her head and in turn met the concerned eyes of her friends. "I .. I don't
know," she rejoined anxiously. "They're going to try to persuade him to head
north ... to the indian territories ..." Bess
frowned. "One has to wonder whether such a man deserves that amount of consideration
..." "But
the Cheyenne have been through so much," protested Michaela half-heartedly. "Yes,"
the elderly woman readily agreed. "I've learnt a great deal about the Cheyenne people
since I arrived here three months ago ... But does their suffering give them a license to
kill? To destroy innocent lives?" "No
... of course not," rejoined Michaela in a small voice. "I'm so afraid for Sully
... His dilemma must be almost too much to bear .." Myra
reached out and placed her hand over her friend's. "He'll do what's right Dr
Mike," she assured her. "He's good at that .." Michaela
nodded. "I know," she returned softly. "But what will it do to him in the
process?" She again bit her lip, fighting the threatening tears. "You
don' know when he'll be back?" asked Myra solemnly. Michaela
shook her head. "They have to find him ... talk to him ... decide what to do
..." Bess
reached across and took her other hand. "He's an honourable man ... and with you to
support him ..." "I
just want him to come back alive," murmured Michaela. "Red Fox is so dangerous
..." She abruptly shook herself and straightened in her chair. "He'll be fine
... I know he will," she said determinedly. She took a deep breath. "Now ...
what were you two discussing when I interrupted?" Bess
looked a little sheepish. "Actually we were deciding when it would be best for me to
return to St Louis ...," she admitted. "You're
leaving?!" exclaimed Michaela in dismay. Bess
and Myra exchanged conspiratorial looks. "I cannot stay on here at the Chateau
indefinitely Michaela," she rejoined quietly. "No
... of course not ... I just hadn't considered you leaving ... that's all ... well ... not
yet anyway ...," Michaela confessed regretfully. "I've
enjoyed my stay here ... more than you could ever imagine," stated the elderly woman
with assurance. "I hadn't realised what an isolated existence I lead in St Louis ...
but I have a home there ..." Michaela
swallowed. "It won't be the same here without you," she said quietly, her eyes
downcast. "But we can write," she then suggested eagerly. Bess
beamed. "I'd like that ... very much," she agreed. Michaela
nodded her head in satisfaction, then as a thought occurred to her, she glanced at the
watch pinned to her blouse. She abruptly stood. "I have a patient in a few minutes
... so I'd better go ... Perhaps the two of you would like to come to supper soon? With
Samantha of course ..." "I'm
sure we'd both love to," answered Bess for them both. "You just tell us when and
we'll be there ..." Michaela
nodded. "Soon," she rejoined. "Now I'd better go ..." She gave each of
them an affectionate smile and headed inside. As
Michaela disappeared through the double doors, Myra turned excitedly to Bess. "I told
you I knew Dr Mike ... an' how she'd feel," she bubbled. "You've gotta do it now
... you've just gotta ... She's gonna love it when she finds out ..." Bess
returned the infectious smile and squeezed her new friend's hand, her eyes suspiciously
bright but definitely twinkling at the same time. *********************** She
sat down on the top step and raised her coffee cup to her lips. She knew she should be in
bed as the children were, but she was also aware that if she was, she would be lying there
awake anyway, alone. When he was away for
Welland Smith she's tell herself he was safe and would return as quickly as possible to
her and the children, but this time there were too many unknowns, too many factors to make
her sick with worry. She again took a deep breath as her heart began to pound. He would be
alright, she had to convince herself of that. He'd spent so much time with the Cheyenne.
He called them his family. He would find some way of dealing with Red Fox without getting
himself hurt. He would return home soon. She
drained her coffee cup and stared up into the sky once more. Nothing had changed, except
the moon was a little higher. She sighed, stood and turned to go inside, only to be
arrested by the sound of a galloping horse in the distance, one that was rapidly drawing
nearer. She held her breath, daring to hope it was Sully, as the horse and rider turned
off the road and galloped toward the homestead. She started down the steps as he entered
the yard, but then the moonlight caught the dark gloss of his long hair and the unique
design of his Cheyenne dress. It was Cloud Dancing ... alone. Chapter 8
Her
heart pounding so hard she found it difficult to breath, Michaela halted half way down the
front steps of the homestead and watched mutely as Cloud Dancing reined his horse in and
slid from its back. She took one hesitant step down as he approached, then she breathed
fearfully, "Sully? Is he? ...." Cloud
Dancing quickly covered the distance between them and grasped her arm. "He is
alright," he said assuredly. "He is alright ..." She
expelled the air she hadn't been aware she'd been holding, then abruptly slumped down on
the step, overwhelmed. As the medicine man
sat on the step beside her, she asked worriedly, "Where is he? Why are you
alone?" His
eyes left hers and he took a deep breath. In a low tone, he said regretfully, "He is
doing what I cannot ..." She
regarded him quizzically. "What's that?" she asked in bewilderment. "Tell
me what's happening ..." He
grasped her hand and nodded. "I stopped in town to see Dorothy ... She said I should
come out here ... though it is late ... She said you would want to know .." Michaela
squeezed his hand. "Please ... where is he? What happened to Red Fox?" she
implored. He
licked his dry lips and took a deep breath. "We found Red Fox ... two days ago
..," he explained soberly, deliberately omitting the circumstance. "He would not
do as we asked ... He would not surrender ... or journey to the indian lands in the north
..." She
held her breath trying to contain her impatience. "And?" she prompted. "Though
he did not want it ... we stayed with him ... at his camp ... for one night ..." He
lowered his head. "He would not listen to us," he concluded sombrely. "So
where is he now? Where's Sully? We saw the newspaper ... We know what Red Fox has been
doing ... How can he be stopped?" "That
is what Sully is trying to do .." "What?!"
she exclaimed. "On his own ... Why did you come back without him?" "He
is with the army ..." Cloud
Dancing's announcement flummoxed her. "He is?" she asked in a small voice. "We
could see no other way ..." "So
he's leading the army to Red Fox and his men?" He
nodded "Yes ..." "And
you agreed to this?" "As
I said ... we could see no other way ..." He sighed. "We talked much about it
... but there was no other way to stop Red Fox ... At first we both rejected the idea ...
he is Cheyenne ... but then Red Fox's words came to me ..." "What
did he say?" "He
said all white men were the same ... I told him he was wrong ... All white men were not
the same ... nor were all Cheyenne ... There is good and bad in every tribe ... Sully had
to stop the Currier brothers ... though they were white .... In the same way I had to stop
Red Fox ..." "But
you're here ..." Cloud
Dancing swallowed. "The only way he can be stopped is by the army ... and they would
not trust a Cheyenne to help them," he rejoined regretfully. "I did not want to
leave Sully ... but he knew what would happen if I stayed ... He sent me back ... to
Dorothy and to you ..." "I'm
glad you're safe," Michaela assured him. "But I wish I knew what was happening
to him ... I can't imagine him working with the army ..." "It
is very hard for him ... He does not trust them ... he cannot trust them ..." "I
know ...," she murmured, wondering at her husband's state of mind. She suddenly
swivelled to face her friend as a thought occurred to her. "What if Red Fox decides
to fight?" she asked anxiously. "He could still be hurt ..." "Sully
will be careful ..." "There
could be more bloodshed .." The
medicine man nodded. "There has already been too much ..." The
pair sat in silence for some minutes, lost in their own thoughts, the faint sounds of the
peaceful night enveloping them. At last Cloud Dancing edged forward and stood. "It is
late," he stated quietly. Michaela
too stood. "Yes," she agreed solemnly. As he began to move off towards his
horse, she entreated, "Please ... you must be thirsty after riding all day ... I have
some lemonade ... Stay a while ... I know I won't be able to sleep anyway ..." His
eyes met hers and he nodded with understanding. He turned back and accompanied her inside. Michaela
brought two glasses of the lemonade to the table and sat down beside Cloud Dancing.
"I hope its still a little cool," she remarked. "It was fresh this
afternoon ..." "After
riding since early this morning I have developed a thirst," he returned wryly.
"The children are well?" She
nodded. "Growing quickly," she responded ruefully. There
was a long silence while Cloud Dancing drained his glass, then as Michaela took it and
stood to refill it, she suddenly noticed her friend's face. "You're hurt!" she
exclaimed, gently touching severe bruising on his cheek and under his eye. He
shrugged his shoulders. "It is nothing," he replied dismissively. Her
eyes narrowed. "When did this happen?" she asked suspiciously. "Some
days ago ... It is no longer painful ..." "Sully
was with you?" "Yes
..." "But
he was not hurt?" Cloud
Dancing refused to meet her eyes. At last he said quietly, "He has a small wound on
his arm ... that is all ..." She
sat down beside him again. "Tell me the truth ... please," she implored. This
time he did meet her gaze. "By the time he returns the wound will be nearly healed
..." She
swallowed. "How did you both get hurt? I need to know ..." His
gaze left hers and he seemed to stare off into space. At last he explained, "When we
finally found Red Fox and his men they had ambushed a young family travelling in a covered
wagon ..." She
frowned in consternation. "They were dead?" she asked in a small voice. He
immediately shook his head. "No ... we found them in time ... but Red Fox was armed
and intent on killing them ..." "So
how did you stop him?" "We
tried to talk to him ... He would not listen ... That was when he told me all white men
were the same ... We did not know what he would do ... I knew Sully would be thinking
about the family ... there was a small boy ... younger than Katie ..." Michaela
nodded and held her breath as Cloud Dancing continued, "While I talked to Red Fox ...
trying to make him understand ... Sully stepped quietly to the wagon ... Then he quickly
jumped up and took the reins ... He pushed the child down onto the floor and then looked
Red Fox in the eye ... It seemed he was challenging him to act ... That was when he raised
his rifle to shoot ..." "And?"
"And
he did this to my face ... with the butt of the rifle ..." "You
tried to stop him," she concluded. He
nodded. "Yes ... I pushed at the rifle and it went off ... the bullet grazed Sully's
arm ... but he set the wagon racing down the trail ... They got away safely ..." "And
Red Fox's men?" He
smiled wryly. "They were not going to kill a medicine man ...," he commented.
"They were the followers of Red Fox only ..." "So
you were separated? But you said you and Sully spent the night at Red Fox's camp?" He
nodded. "I knew I had to stay close to Red Fox ... to stop him hurting anyone else
... until we could decide what to do ... We were sitting by the campfire ... It was late
and very dark ... Red Fox was still very angry ...He didn't want me there ... then Sully
calmly walked into the firelight ..." "What
did Red Fox do?" Cloud
Dancing shook his head ruefully. "He was very angry ... He threatened to shoot Sully ... and then me
..." Michaela
swallowed. "But he didn't ..." "No
... he didn't," agreed Cloud Dancing, again shaking his head. "He raised his
rifle and Sully just stood there ... meeting his eye ... Then suddenly Red Fox ordered his
men to check on the horses and he sat down again ... He did not speak to us again that
night ... We left early the next morning ..." "And
now Sully is tracking him again ..." "Yes
... if he has been able to convince the army that he can ..." Michaela
smiled ruefully. "He'll convince them," she said assuredly. "He always
finds a way ..." She stood and picked up his empty glass once more. "I'll get
you some more lemonade now shall I?' she asked rhetorically, walking into the kitchen, her
mind racing. ********************** Downstairs,
she pulled the door open to Kathleen who stood patiently on the doorstep. "Good
morning Michaela," she said with a smile. Then she frowned. "Are you
alright?" she asked. "You look tired." Michaela
grimaced. "A late night," she explained. "Cloud Dancing returned ..." "And
Sully?" asked the younger woman eagerly. Michaela
shook her head. "No ... not yet," she said, the disappointment evident in her
tone. She beckoned Kathleen inside. "The children are almost ready ... I'm afraid I
overslept ..." "That's
alright ... I had trouble getting out of bed myself this morning ... must be all the
unpacking ... and settling into our new homestead ... I seem to always be tired ...,"
chuckled Kathleen, opening her arms to Katie as she descended the stairs with Brian. "Are
you sure you want to go back to looking after the children while I'm at the clinic?"
asked an anxious Michaela. "I really don't mind if you'd rather not ... I know how
busy you are with your new home ..." Sweeping
Katie up into her arms and returning the little girl's enthusiastic hug, Kathleen quickly
dispelled Michaela's misgivings. "Its no trouble at all," she said reassuringly.
"This little one can help me ... and looking after William for the first time will be
a new challenge ..." Michaela
smiled wryly. "It will certainly be that," she agreed. "I've just started
weaning him ... so he may be a little ... ah ..." "Cantankerous?" Michaela
chuckled. "Exactly," she returned. "We'll
manage," Kathleen asserted as she followed Michaela into the kitchen. While the older
woman toasted a thick slice of bread over the stove, she asked in puzzlement, "Why
did Cloud Dancing return without Sully? I thought they were riding together against this
Red Fox?" Michaela
swallowed. "They were," she replied in a low tone. "But they had no success
... They decided the army had to be brought in ...." "So
Sully is working with the army?" queried Kathleen warily. Michaela
turned to meet her daughter-in-law's eyes. "Yes," she replied quietly.
"Ironic isn't it ..." Kathleen
nodded. "So you have no idea when he'll return ...," she mused. Michaela
shook her head. "All I know is that he'll need our support when he does ... He has no
respect for the army ..." Again
Kathleen nodded, then abruptly set Katie down on the floor as William, who had been
sitting quietly in his high chair, loudly claimed her attention. ********************** The
handle turned and the Reverend poked his head around the door. "Any patients Dr
Mike?" he asked. "No
... not at the moment," she replied with a smile. "Come in ..." The
Reverend entered and quietly closed the door behind him. "I thought I'd visit with
Mrs O'Connell and the children," he explained, standing just inside the doorway.
"How are they doing?" "As
well as can be expected," Michaela rejoined. "I'm going to remove the bandaging
from Mrs O'Connell's face tomorrow." "Was
the wound bad?" asked the Reverend with concern "Yes
it was actually ... Its jagged and extends from her temple to her chin ..." The
Reverend winced. "It must have been very painful ..." "Mmm
... and she lost a lot of blood ..." "That's
why she was in bed for so long after ya brought her here huh?" Michaela
nodded. "Yes," she replied. "But she's doing much better now ..." "I
... I guess she'll have a scar then?" "Unfortunately
yes ... I was as careful as I could be ... but the wound was in poor condition and very
deep ..." The
Reverend nodded with understanding. "Hope people pay it no mind ...," he mused. "I
agree ..." He
began to move towards the door that lead upstairs, then halted and turned back. "Any
word from Sully?" he asked. "No
... not yet ... I'm hoping he'll be home in the next couple of days ..." "I
was wondering .. well ..." The Reverend hesitated and then plunged in. "I was
wondering whether he might do something for me when he gets back ..." "He's
always pleased to help," she adjured. "What is it you need?" "Actually
... its as much the O'Connells as me," he replied. "Mrs O'Connell is still
trying to decide what to do ... She's not ready to go back to their homestead yet
..." "There's
nothing left there," Michaela interjected quietly. The
Reverend nodded. "And she knows she can't stay on here at the clinic ... but she
can't afford the guesthouse ... so ... well ... I offered her my room behind the church
... I haven't used it for a long time ... Its kinda small ... an' probably needs a coat of
paint ... but ..." "You're
right about it being small ... especially with two children ..." "But
... well it wouldn' cost her anything ... until she decides what she can do ..." Michaela
considered the proposal for a few minutes and then smiled. "I believe its an
excellent idea Reverend ... and I'm sure Sully and a few other men in town could help make
it habitable ... They'll need some new beds and other things ..." The
Reverend nodded. "That's what I thought ... only we have to be careful ... Mrs
O'Connell resents anything that looks like charity ..." "Then
we'll have to think of a means by which she can pay her way ...," rejoined Michaela.
"Perhaps looking after the church? Cleaning ... fresh flowers etcetera ..." The
Reverend beamed. "I'll suggest it when she protests again ... Like I said ... I'm
sure that's what she'll do ..." He again moved toward the inner door. "Thanks Dr
Mike," he said sincerely. "Guess I'll go on up now ..." "The
children will enjoy your visit," returned Michaela, watching as he fumbled for the
door handle and then pulled the door open. She smiled as he started up the stairs. The
Reverend was in his element when he thought he could make someone's lot better. She turned
back to her files as his footsteps could be heard on the landing above. ********************** "Might
not be any rain at all," responded Michaela. "Summer storms are often just
thunder and lightning ... no rain ..." Brian
nodded. "Kids sure went off ta sleep quick tonight ...," he remarked. Michaela
chuckled. "Kathleen seems to keep them busy ... and happy ..." "They
like her a lot ... even William ..." "Mmm
... though I hope she's not doing too much taking them on again ... so soon after moving
into their new homestead ..." "I
don' reckon ma ... she seems ta have a way about her ... the kids don' play up ... an' its
good she can look after 'em in her own house ..." Michaela
nodded. "Can
I ask ya somethin' ma?" "Of
course ... what is it?" asked Michaela curiously. "Well
... I wrote ta the editor of the Denver Post a while
back ... asked him if I could spend some time in his office ... maybe a
coupla weeks ... Figured it might help when I apply for colleges next year ..." "And
he wrote back?" "Uh
huh ... Said he'd read a coupla things I'd written for the Gazette ... Said he'd be happy
for me to come ... I just have ta let him know when ..." "So?" "So
I was thinkin' ... when pa gets home ... an' seein' Kathleen's lookin' after the kids ...
I might go then ... If its alright with you ..." Michaela
grasped her son's hand and squeezed it lovingly. "I think it's a wonderful
opportunity Brian ... and please ... don't ever think you have to stay here to help with
the children ... I want you to have as many opportunities as possible ...," she
urged. Brian
smiled in delight. "An' I figure I can use a little o' Mr Beauchamp's money ta pay
for a boardin' house while I'm there ... He said it was for my education ..." "I'm
sure he'd be more than pleased to see it used that way ...," she responded with a
smile. "Perhaps when you come back you can write to him and tell him all about the
experience?" "I
already thought o' that," Brian agreed. "I'm gonna write him before I go
..." He suddenly flinched as dazzling lightning flashed across the sky. "Storm's gettin' closer," he remarked as
he stood. "I'll go check it aint disturbin' the kids ... then I think I'll turn in
... Night ma ..." He bent to kiss Michaela's cheek and then went inside. For
more than an hour, as the darkness of night slowly overcame the day, Michaela watched the storm develop over the
mountains and loom closer. The lightning was frequent and startling and the rolling
thunder ominous. She was awed by its beauty and contained power. The wind blew up finally,
gusting across the yard, picking up the dry dust in its path, and yet no rain fell. She
lost track of time, her thoughts with Sully trying to bring Red Fox to justice. At
last, awakened from her reverie by the ache in her back caused by her slumped position,
she stretched, flipped her heavy fall of hair back over her shoulders and stood. Despite the lateness of the hour, she was
reluctant to go inside. The spectacle of the storm and the wildness of her surroundings
made her feel closer to Sully somehow. She leaned on the porch railing and again
contemplated the impending storm. Many a
night she'd cuddled up close to Sully while a storm raged outside. He always made her feel
safe, secure, loved. She sighed and turned to enter the house. A sudden gust of wind
howled across the yard. She shivered and turned back momentarily to spy a vague, moving
shape in the distance, a shape gradually, eerily, emerging from the gloom. She held her
breath. There was little moonlight tonight because of the heavy cloud, but she wasn't
mistaken. It was a rider, approaching fast. As he neared, the rapid hoof beats became
audible above the howling of the wind. She sent up a silent prayer - please don't let it
be bad news about Sully. The
rider rode assuredly into the yard and at last the porch lights could hint at his
features. It was all Michaela needed. As he slid from his horse and opened the corral
gate, she ran down the porch steps calling his name, "Sully!" He spun around to
face her, dropping the horse's reins as he did so. She caught only a glimpse of the
tiredness and pain in his eyes before she launched herself into his arms. He silently drew
her in against himself and, as the first large drops of rain began to fall unheeded, they
held each other close, safe, home. |