Chapter 3

Michaela was feeling decidedly out of sorts. Ever since the family's return to the homestead just after dusk the evening before, she'd been unable to shake the despondency which was weighing her down. So far she hadn't arrived at a definitive reason for it, even in the few, unplanned moments when she'd allowed herself to think too carefully about the matter and its cause. Perhaps it was her fear for Katie's safety, or the guilt she felt for having fallen asleep when Katie was in her care and her care alone. Perhaps she sensed something in Sully - there'd been nothing overt, nothing she could pinpoint. She hoped she was only imagining the unfamiliar reserve in his manner towards her.

Supper had been a sombre affair. Michaela and Sully had been both astounded and displeased when Katie had blithely demonstrated the relative ease with which she'd reached the doorhandle and let herself out of the homestead. She'd been extremely quiet since then, subdued by her parents' unaccustomed disapproval of her antics. She'd also been tired out by her illicit adventure and Sully had put her to bed earlier than was usual. William had been fussy, perhaps disconcerted by a change to his routine and receptive to his mother's anxiety. Sully had been unusually quiet and although Brian had tried his utmost to get him to talk of his latest expedition for Welland Smith, he'd answered only in monosyllables and without enthusiasm. Eventually Brian too had retired to bed early. Aware of a certain unfamiliar tension in the air, Kathleen and Matthew had taken their coffee out onto the front stoop and stayed talking out there until quite late, leaving Michaela and Sully alone.

By the time Michaela had fed William, finished washing the supper dishes and rinsed out Katie's soaked and muddy clothing, Sully had disappeared upstairs, ostensibly to tuck Katie in and read her a story. When he didn't come downstairs again, Michaela extinguished the lamps and headed upstairs herself, William in her arms. Sully had not been in their bedroom as she'd expected, so she'd sat for a long while in the rocker before the fireplace, her tiny son held protectively against her as he slept. He'd stirred after a while and she'd nursed him again before tucking him securely into his cradle at the foot of the bed. When Sully still had not appeared, she'd quietly ventured across the landing to Katie's room and peeked in. He'd been sitting in the rocker by the bed, his little daughter nestled, sound asleep, in his arms. There'd been a faraway look in his eyes which Michaela had found disconcerting. He hadn't even noticed she was there. She'd backed away, changed for bed and dispiritedly climbed in, curling up under the covers, her back to the door. Eventually Sully had entered, quickly divested himself of his clothing and climbed in to lie beside her. She'd felt a soft, light kiss on her cheek and then he'd settled down to sleep.

She sighed. He'd left this morning with Matthew just after sun up to work on Matthew's new homestead. He'd said very little, kissed the children and herself goodbye and ridden off. Her heart was heavy. Perhaps he *did* blame her for what could well have been a tragedy yesterday. She shook her head ruefully. And he was right! She was directly where the blame should lay. She should never have fallen asleep leaving Katie unsupervised. She abruptly threw the wet dishcloth into the soapy water, sending a spray of droplets high into the air and then down the front of her clean blouse. She thumped her fist angrily on the bench top. How could she have been so stupid?

She wandered restlessly into the living-room, brushing at the water spots on her blouse with her handkerchief. William was peacefully sleeping in his cradle (for now) and Katie was in her customary place before the fire, playing with her toys. Earlier, Kathleen had invited them to accompany her into town, but in the end she just hadn't had the heart for it. Besides, at the moment she wanted to keep a very close watch on her adventurous daughter. She picked up the sewing basket from beside the chair and lifted out Katie's torn floral dress which had dried overnight before the fire. She examined the rather large and ragged tear and sank into the wingback chair, her shoulders slumped. What if Wolf hadn't been there with Katie? She shook herself again. It was no use dwelling on 'what ifs'. Katie was alright, even if some of her family *did* blame her for the incident. She determinedly withdrew several scraps of material from the basket, trying to find a piece with which she could patch the dress without it being too obvious. Finding the best of what was available, she cut a square and began to painstakingly tuck in the frayed edges and sew the patch onto the underside of the cotton fabric.

Nearly an hour later she held the little dress up to the light and proclaimed with satisfaction, "There .... its done ..."

Katie glanced up from where she was playing and reddened when she observed what her mother had in her hands. She stood and sidled over to lean against Michaela's knees. "I look pease?" she asked softly. Michaela turned the dress around so that Katie could see the patch. She studied it silently for a moment and then turned contrite eyes on her mother. "I sowwy mama," she said softly.

Michaela grasped her daughter by the waist and lifted her onto her knee. "Its all fixed and no harm came of it sweetheart," she rejoined quietly. "But you won't go out on your own again will you?" Katie gave her head a vehement shake. Michaela continued, "If you want to go out for a walk ... you ask .... and someone will go with you ..." The little girl's eyebrows rose hopefully, causing Michaela to add, "When they can ...." She glanced across at William sleeping peacefully in his cradle. "And when William isn't sleeping ..."

Katie humphed with disgust. "He's always seepin' mama," she lamented. "I never go out ..."

Michaela chuckled. "To you he sleeps too much sweetheart ... to me he doesn't sleep long enough ..." When Katie turned quizzical eyes on her, she offered, "I tell you what .... if you're a good girl for the rest of the morning .... we'll go for a walk this afternoon ... We'll put William in the perambulator and go down to the stream .... as long as you promise not to go too close to the water so you can slip ..... how does that sound?" For the first time since her adventure the previous afternoon, Katie smiled broadly and then slid from her ma's knee and looked around as if trying to decide how she could best demonstrate she was a good girl. Michaela held out the patched dress to her. "Perhaps you could put this away in your cupboard for me?" she suggested. The toddler nodded, took the dress from her and set off cheerfully across the living-room for the stairs.

Michaela watched her go indulgently. The little girl held such a special place in all their hearts, it was impossible to think of something awful happening to her. Michaela straightened her shoulders. Nothing *had* happened. She was safe and well and for that she sent up a silent prayer. Perhaps she ought to just apologise to Sully, as Katie had apologised to her. Nothing good would come of bottling things up - something she was well aware both of them were inclined to do. She'd speak to him about it as soon as the opportunity arose this evening.

As she neatly stowed away her sewing paraphernalia in the basket and placed it back by the rocker, William stirred and began to grizzle, preparatory to wanting to nurse. She picked him up and rocked him gently, whispering soft nothings into his ear. He stilled for a moment and lay against her chest contentedly, responding to the gentleness of his mother's voice. She smiled and kissed him lovingly on the forehead, for now as content as he. Then she became aware of a the sound of wagon wheels on the hard turf of the yard. She peeked though the lace curtains and upon seeing who had come to visit, hastened across to the front door and pulled it open.

Still inclined to favour her right side, Myra Bing climbed awkwardly down from the Chateau buggy. She held her daughter Samantha's hand tightly as the little girl exuberantly jumped the last, steep step to the ground and then Myra turned to retrieve her cane from behind the seat. At last she looked up to see Michaela smiling at her from the top step of the Sully homestead porch. "Hey Dr Mike," she called cheerfully. "Hope ya don' mind me an' Samantha visitin' like this .... Its such a beautiful day, we decided ta git out for a bit ..." She slowly walked across to the bottom step and began the slow process of stepping up each one.

Knowing better than to rush forward to assist the self-reliant, younger woman, Michaela remained on the top step, a now petulant William in her arms, and responded with a wide smile, "Of course I don't mind you coming out here .... Its lovely to see you ... and Samantha ...." At this the little girl bounded up the last couple of steps and into Michaela's awkward embrace. Then she looked around inquiringly. "You're looking for Katie hmmm?" asked Michaela with a smile.

"Uh huh," replied the almost five year old.

Michaela pushed the front door open wider and her eyes rose upwards. "She's upstairs sweetheart ... putting her clothes away .... You go on up ..." Samantha immediately ran across the room towards the stairs.

Michaela turned back to observe Myra mounting the very last step. Her progress since her stroke last December had been slow but steady. It was hard to believe that the smiling woman who stood before her could be the same one who had been at death's door, when she, Sully and Horace had rushed to St Louis after being alerted that their friend was gravely ill. In need of constant care and rehabilitation, Myra had spent nigh on four months at the Chateau and hot springs now (thanks to the generosity of Hank), and the improvement in her health and wellbeing was indeed remarkable.

"Hey Dr Mike," she said again, as she at last reached her friend. "Let me look at this little darlin'," she added as she peeked over the blanket to peer at tiny William, who was by now becoming very impatient. Myra chuckled. "He's hungry huh?" she murmured. "I know that screwed up face well .... Saw it often enough on Samantha when she was real small."

Michaela nodded and smiled. "He's always hungry it seems," she said in mock despair, but there was a decided sparkle in her eyes as she said it. "Now come in out of the cool breeze ... and sit down so we can talk ...." Myra smiled and leaning on her cane, slowly preceded her friend into the house, immediately making for a comfortable wingback chair.

Michaela followed her, becoming concerned when William began to wail more demandingly. She watched Myra seat herself before the fire, but she remained standing. "Ah ... I'll just .... um ...." She turned towards the stairs. "I'll just feed William .... won't be long ...." She took a few hesitant steps, knowing that leaving her guest alone was not very hospitable.

Myra chuckled. "Ohh Dr Mike," she admonished with a broad smile. "There aint no need ta go off alone .... is there? I know what its like .... same as you .... Just sit there in the other chair ...." Michaela reddened, halted her hesitant progress towards the stairs, but did not return to the fireside. "Come on Dr Mike," encouraged Myra, over the wails of the crying baby. "You won't be doin' anythin' I aint seen an' done myself .... 'sides .... it was you helped me when Samantha wouldn' nurse .... soon after she was born ... remember?" Michaela gave her a rueful look and Myra laughed out loud. "This aint Boston .... Its just you an' me .... friends ...," she said. "An' it aint polite ta leave a guest alone .... right?" she added, her eyes twinkling. She turned her head away. "I promise I won't look if ya don' want me to ..."

Michaela finally gave in. She knew she was being prudish, but she always found doing something so intimate, private, in front of someone other than Sully difficult. While Myra determinedly looked the other way, she quickly seated herself in the chair, unbuttoned her blouse and put William to her breast. Suddenly, there was silence in the previously noisy room as he set to satisfying his hunger. She pulled the blanket up so that she and William were shielded a little and then relaxed back into the chair. Myra turned back to her, her smile broad and Michaela gave her a rueful smile in return. "I know .... don't say it," murmured Michaela self-deprecatingly.

Myra chuckled again and then turned her eyes upwards. "The girls are sure quiet," she remarked bemusedly.

"They're probably playing with Katie's dolls," suggested Michaela. "Now tell me how you are .... and what's been happening out at the Chateau ..."

Myra looked serious for a moment. "I've bin doin' all my exercises .... just like you said Dr Mike .... an' I go in the hot springs every mornin' .... an' rest every afternoon .... Seems hard ta believe I've bin back here almost four months now ... don' it?"

Michaela nodded. "It certainly does .... Have you given any thought to what you're going to do? .... I mean it won't be long and you'll be well enough to leave the Chateau ..."

Myra shrugged her shoulders and then gave Michaela a somewhat accusing look. "Why didn' you ever tell me it was Hank payin' my bill?" she asked, obviously a little put out.

Michaela blushed. "I ... we .... Hank asked us not to .... we thought ....," she stammered, her eyes all at once focussing on the child at her breast. She suddenly looked up. "How did you find out?" she asked in puzzlement.

"I've bin helpin' Charlie Burns with the books .... New manager came an' wanted everythin' done over ... all neat an' proper .... Since Preston left they aint bin done right .... or at least not to his likin' .... Charlie an' me were talkin' one day, an' when he found out I used ta do that sorta work in St Louis he asked me ta help him ....," explained Myra, adding with emphasis, "*That's when I found out* .... I'd always bin worried that you an' Sully were payin' somehow ..." She shook her head. "All those bills .... paid by Hank .... I'm gonna owe him for the rest of my life ...."

Michaela frowned. "You don't owe him anything Myra .... and he won't expect any repayment ... in fact I believe he'd resent it ... He cares for you .... and I have a feeling this is his way of repaying you for his poor treatment of you over the years ...."

"Still feel like I owe him ....," murmured Myra, unconvinced. "Aint like him ta do somethin' for someone without expectin' somethin' in return."

"I think you're misjudging him there Myra .... He's been genuinely concerned about you ..."

"We'll see Dr Mike .... I must admit he's been awful good .... comin' out ta help me with my exercises .... helpin' me git in an' out o' the hot springs ..." She suddenly smiled. "He often stays for lunch or supper with Sam an' me .... seems ta like it ....," she remarked, a little self-consciously.

This time Michaela chuckled. "Perhaps he's sweet on you," she suggested lightly. When she saw the resultant panicked expression on Myra's face she wished she hadn't. "I ... I'm sorry .... I ... I .... didn't mean anything by that ....," she stuttered. "I was teasing ... that's all ..."

"I hope that *is* all Dr Mike .... I like Hank .... fact is .... maybe I love him .... but not in *that* way .... We got a history together .... its almost like he's family ....," Myra clarified. "I don' know what I'd do if he started ta think o' me as ... as ...."

"Its alright .... I'm sure he won't .... doesn't .... Forgive me for saying anything," gushed Michaela. She lifted William and changed him to her other breast. Her mind was spinning, trying to think of an alternative topic of conversation. She raised her head as William settled and asked, "You were saying there's a new manager at the Chateau?"

"Uh huh ... arrived 'round the time William was born I guess," Myra elucidated, her mind still obviously on their previous conversation.

"What's he like?"

Myra shrugged her shoulders, and then frowned as she forced herself to concentrate. "Seems kinda stuffy .... Everyone hasta call him *Mr Tilson* ... wants everythin' done *his* way .... Charlie an' the rest o' the staff aint sure 'bout him yet ... though I git the feelin' that if they hadta choose between him an' Preston Lodge .... they'd choose the new fella ..."

"You said Mr *Tilson*?" inquired Michaela. "That's an unusual name ..."

"Uh huh .... comes from back east .... Senator Dinston hired him when he was in New York I heard ...."

"What's his first name?"

Myra shrugged her shoulders. "Don' know," she rejoined. "Nobody's allowed ta use it ... so I aint heard it ..."

"What does he look like," Michaela persisted, her mind suddenly whirling.

"Sorta ordinary," replied Myra, quickly realising that Michaela was intensely interested in her reply. "Little bit taller 'an Sully .... 'bout the same age .... dark brown hair .... brown eyes .... Wears real good clothes .... but they always look a little rumpled .... like he don' care too much .... not like Preston ..." She paused and then asked pointedly. "Why'd ya ask?"

"From back east you say?" asked Michaela, ignoring Myra's question.

"Uh huh ... Philadelphia I think I heard someone say ... Dr Mike .... why are you so interested?"

Michaela swallowed. "Are you sure you haven't heard his first name? .... It wouldn't be Adrian would it?"

"I'm sorry Dr Mike ... I really aint heard ... Do you know a fella called Adrian Tilson?"

Michaela's eyes took on a faraway look. "Mmm ..... many years ago ..." She looked across at Myra. "Do you remember my friend Miriam? Visited here a few years ago ... a doctor from San Francisco?"

"Uh huh .... She wasn' practicin' medicine no more if I recollect ... she helped ya operate on Becky ..."

"Her name .... her maiden name .... was Tilson ..."

"So her an' the new manager could be related?"

"I heard that Adrian .... her brother ... went into hotel management .... Miriam hasn't mentioned him for a long time ...," mused Michaela. "It would seem a strange coincidence if it *is* him ..."

Myra's eyes narrowed. "Did ya know him well Dr Mike .... was he a beau?"

Michaela gave her a startled look. "Good heavens no!" she exclaimed. "Actually .... there was something about him made me feel ... well .... uneasy ...." She shook herself. "Look at us ... discussing something which might turn out to be totally irrelevant." She hoisted tiny William onto her shoulder and proceeded to rub his back in a rhythmic pattern. "How about some tea and cake hmmm?" she suggested, abruptly changing the subject.

Myra regarded her speculatively but decided not to force the issue. "Sounds good Dr Mike," she rejoined. "I'll go put the kettle on while you finish up with William." She awkwardly heaved herself out of the chair and shuffled towards the kitchen, her carved cane tapping on the wooden floor

Chapter 4

"Sully?" muttered Matthew, holding out a dipper of water to the older man.

Sully stood upright, stretched his aching muscles and swiped at the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. He took the dipper from Matthew and drank deeply. At last, thirst quenched, he glanced around at the day's handiwork and stated, "Won' take us long ta finish with the timber that's here .... Ya wanna go on now .... or finish tomorra?"

Matthew shrugged. "Guess there aint no hurry .... we got a real lot done today ... an' I aint placed an order for the next load yet ..... figured it'd take us a lot longer to git through what's here ..."

Sully looked a little sheepish. "That's cos you've bin workin' on ya own .... when I promised I'd help," he muttered.

"Hey ... you hadta take that job .... I know that .... With your help in between jobs, the house'll git finished in time for the weddin' .... I'm sure," responded Matthew immediately.

Sully looked away toward the distant mountains and then unexpectedly stated, "Don' think I'll be takin' a trip for a while .... wanna be home ..."

"But you like doin' those jobs for Smith .... don' ya," asked Matthew, puzzled by Sully's pronouncement.

"I guess," admitted Sully reluctantly. "But I need ta be here more I reckon ..."

Matthew once more plunged the dipper into the pail of cool, stream water and then lifted it to his lips, all the while watching Sully. He dropped the dipper back into the water, causing it to splash over the side and into the dust at their feet and then asked the question which had been on his mind all day, "Everythin' alright between you an' Dr Mike?"

Sully turned and regarded him warily. "Yeah, why?" he asked, his lips pursed a little.

Matthew swallowed, already regretting that he'd had the temerity to ask. He shrugged his shoulders. "Things seemed a little .... ah .... tense last night is all," he responded quietly.

"Things weren't exactly normal last night Matthew .... we'd been worried about Katie ...," adjured Sully.

"Yeah ... I know that ... we all were ....," agreed Matthew. "But ... well ... I'da thought after findin' her .... an' seein' it was your first night home in over a week ...." He trailed off, then took a deep breath and continued bravely, "You an' Dr Mike hardly said a word to each other ..."

"We were both tired I reckon," was Sully's short reply.

"Yeah ... well ... I know Dr Mike sure was. William was awake at least three times the night before .... even woke me all the way out in the barn once .... I dunno how she manages ...," mused the young man guilelessly. "He wake agin last night?"

"Uh huh ... twice," replied Sully, feeling worse by the minute, not that he was going to let Matthew know that.

"You blamin' her for Katie goin' missin'?" asked Matthew abruptly, finally putting his troubled thoughts into words.

Sully looked across at him in astonishment. "Course not!" he exclaimed.

"Reckon she thinks ya do ..," suggested Matthew. "I could see it in her eyes ... reckon you didn' notice cos ya never looked in 'em .... not once ... Its bad enough she blames herself .... but thinkin' you do too ..."

"That's enough Matthew," warned Sully, his expression steely.

Matthew shrugged. "Ya needed ta know I reckon ....," he concluded. "I'm gonna go inta town an' collect Kathleen an' Brian. I'll see ya at supper."

Sully watched as the forthright, young man quickly packed up his various tools into their wooden box, heaved it into the back of the wagon, tied his horse loosely to the back and headed for town. When Matthew was out of sight, he slumped back against the workbench and silently cussed. Why was it that he was so often blind to things others could clearly see? Here he'd been blaming himself for not being at home with his family, and Michaela had been thinking he was blaming her. He shook his head - maybe Matthew was wrong. Then he recalled the events of the previous evening, especially Michaela's quietness, and he knew the younger man was right. He was such an idiot! He grasped his jacket from where it hung over a low branch, shrugged it on and mounted his horse. Time he set Michaela right and apologised in the process.

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Adrian Tilson, whisky glass in hand, stood on the saloon porch, gazing across the road at the medical clinic and once again cursed his luck. He'd taken the Chateau manager's job in this god-forsaken place for one reason and one reason only and then discovered that his reason wasn't visiting town too often at the moment, let alone working in her medical practice. A few discreet inquiries just after he arrived in town had revealed the distasteful information that the town's doctor had recently had a baby and was staying at home for a while.

He slumped forward over the porch railing. He'd waited years to hear what had become of Michaela Quinn. He'd badgered Miriam so often over the years she'd finally stopped mentioning Michaela in her letters at all. That's why he'd been astonished to suddenly hear something about her again after so long. In one of her now infrequent letters a few years back, Miriam had outlined news of her visit to Colorado Springs to celebrate some anniversary between the two women. He'd eagerly read and re-read the lines she'd written about her dear friend and what she was doing now. In fact he'd brought the dog-eared, yellowing letter with him all the way from Philadelphia. It lay in the bottom of his trunk back at the Chateau.

Never being one to participate in idle chitchat or gossip, he'd been careful when asking questions about her here in town. Miriam had mentioned how well respected Michaela was, and the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself as someone from her past. Besides, he wanted to surprise her - just walk up to her in the street, or appear at the clinic door and say 'here I am ... after all this time ..'. He sighed. It was so many years ago now since he'd last seen her, but to him the memories were as vivid as if they'd happened yesterday - sitting beside her at the opera, dining at the Savoy, playing whist around the table in his family home in Philadelphia, all memories he would cherish forever.

Of course there was the unfortunate matter of her husband. Years back, when he'd heard about her then fiancee David Lewis going missing down south in the war, he'd believed his luck had changed. Knowing the sort of woman Michaela was, he'd convinced himself that she would never marry again. He'd been both startled and put out to hear from Miriam that not only was Michaela now married to some mountain man, but she had three adopted children and one of her own. He'd seen the husband here in town, or assumed it was him after reading Miriam's description of him so many times in her letter. He'd wondered how his refined Michaela could have become entangled with such a man. Still, the husband and children were only minor considerations when it came to true love. He firmly believed that the coincidence of the manager's job at the Chateau coming up and his looking to change positions, had occurred for only one reason, and that was so he could once again be close to her, be a part of her life. Fate had deemed it should be so.

He watched as a dapper, young man exited the clinic. He'd met Dr Andrew Cook who was looking after the clinic here in town and also the Chateau clinic in Michaela's absence. It couldn't hurt to further make his acquaintance, become friendly with him, get the lay of the land. If this rustic little town was going to be his home for some time to come, he'd be well advised to make some friends, become one of those whom people trusted. It was much easier to learn and plans things when people trusted you. He stepped off the porch and intercepted Andrew as he made his way to the mercantile.

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By the time he arrived back at the homestead, Sully's heart was pounding. Not just from the speed with which he'd made the short journey, but also because the more he mulled over Matthew's declaration, the more he knew it to be correct. He cursed himself again. He was so often foolish when it came to dealing with his complex and surprisingly vulnerable wife.

There was a odd sense of déjà vu as he entered the yard in much the same manner as he had the day before. It was a similar time of day, there were thin streams of smoke wafting up into the sky from the two chimneys, and the air was again cool and still. He tied his horse to the corral railing and hurried inside. The eerie sensation increased when he couldn't find Michaela and the children anywhere, despite the fires having been banked and the coffee pot still on the heat. He stood for a moment and gazed across to the chair where she'd been sitting yesterday, William nestled against her, both sound asleep, tired out by a restless night. He frowned and wandered back out onto the porch to gaze around at the peaceful surroundings of the homestead. Perhaps they'd gone into town? Then he realised that Matthew and Kathleen had the wagon, and there was no way Michaela could manage two children and all their paraphernalia without it.

He started down the steps and then stopped. He had no idea where to look. He slumped onto a step half way down. He gazed out over the yard and noticed wheel tracks, new ones, narrower than those their own wagon made. Maybe someone had come and collected them, taken them out. It was strange Michaela hadn't left a note for him. He ran his fingers through his unruly, shoulder-length hair. He hoped she wasn't too angry with him. He became lost in his thoughts as time slowly crept on, the sun sinking lower and lower in the sky but not yet masked by the hills behind the homestead.

"Papa!" exclaimed a very young voice, some distance away along the road. "Papa!" Katie exclaimed again with delight. Sully's head flew up and he spied Michaela strolling in his direction, pushing the perambulator, Katie running alongside. He stood and the little girl broke away from her mother and tore towards him at speed. He opened his arms and she jumped into them, squealing as he swept her high into the air. When she was settled in his arms she exclaimed excitedly, "We went down to the stweam papa .... I saw a fwog .... an' a 'pider an' a wabbit ..."

Papa observed her excited, flushed face with indulgence. He would never tire of her delight at the discovery of new things or her enjoyment of the old. "Ya had a good time huh Kates?" he murmured with a smile.

She nodded her head with vehemence. "Uh huh ...." Then she frowned. "Weeyum's seepin' agin papa .... He's always seepin' .... He didn' see the stweam .... 'cept when mama feed him ..."

Sully chuckled. "He's supposed ta sleep a lot Kates .... helps him ta grow ..."

She pursed her lips in disgust. "Takin' him a long time papa," she muttered disparagingly.

Again her father chuckled and hugged her tight. "Won' be long an' he'll be playin' with ya Kates .... Ya just gotta wait ...."

She frowned, screwing up her face in disgust, causing her father to laugh and bounce her up and down so that her frown was replaced by a wide smile and excited giggles. She wrapped her arms around his neck and then turned to watch her ma approach.

Sully was aware immediately that Michaela was unsure about him. As Matthew had suggested, he watched her eyes, and when she wouldn't meet his, he knew. He swallowed and walked slowly towards her. "Hey," he said softly. "Have a good afternoon?" Katie's exasperated "I told ya papa" saved Michaela from having to reply. He placed the little girl down when they reached the step. "Here ... let me help ya with that," he offered quietly, taking the heavy, awkward end of the perambulator and lifting it up the steep steps, while Michaela manoeuvred the other end by the handles. Once inside he peeked in to discover William still sound asleep, securely wrapped in a warm blanket. He watched Michaela as she pushed the perambulator into a corner out of the way, and yet where she could keep an eye on her tiny son. "Ya went down to the stream huh?" he asked her.

She nodded and said softly, "I said we would go if Katie was a good girl this morning ..."

Katie leant in against his knee and peered up at him. "I's a good girl today papa .... I pwomise ....," she said proudly. "Manfa come .... We pwayed upstairs ..."

Sully glanced across at his wife. "Myra and Samantha were here?"

She nodded. "Myra's so much better .... Its hard to believe .... She drove the buggy out here all by herself ... we sat and talked for a while ....," she explained quietly.

"Glad ya had some company," rejoined Sully.

"It was nice," agreed Michaela with a whimsical smile. "She asked if we'd come out and have supper with her and Samantha sometime soon .... I think she's beginning to wonder what she should do now that's she almost well again ..."

Sully shrugged his shoulders. "It'll be a hard decision ta make .... She's still got her sister in St Louis .... but here Samantha can see her father as much as she wants .... Guess she's gonna haveta make the decision herself ... only *she* knows what's gonna make her happy ...," he mused.

Michaela nodded, poignantly reminded of those same words he'd spoken to her some years back. She turned towards the kitchen and away from his astute eyes. "I suppose I better get supper started .... everyone will be home soon ....," she murmured, her voice catching.

Sully saw Michaela's eyes momentarily cloud over as soon as his words were uttered. They'd slipped out because that's the way he felt, but as he said them he vividly recalled saying them to her once before, at another time and in another place. She wandered into the kitchen, away from him, and his brow creased in concern. He had to make things right with her. He looked down at his little daughter who was still standing at his feet, peering up at him, almost as if she sensed that something was not quite right. He squatted down and said softly, "How 'bout you go play with your toys over there .... I wanna talk to ya ma for a minute ... alright?" Katie's eyes narrowed and he'd have given anything to know what was going on in her young mind. Finally, and without demur, she nodded and toddled across the living-room to the fireplace. He watched her go with a smile. So often she reminded him of her mother, at times seeming to be able to read his thoughts. He stood and turned his attention back to Michaela.

Michaela sensed rather than heard Sully come up behind her. Her heart was pounding. Was he finally going to put into words his anger at her negligence the day before? Instead, his arms suddenly encircled her waist and he gently pulled her back against his chest. She instantly clasped his arms in front as if afraid he would let go.

There was a long silence and then, at last, he unexpectedly said against her ear, "Reckon I don' always make ya happy ..... like maybe yesterday ..."

She frowned in puzzlement and turned in his arms to face him. She swallowed and replied softly, "I think you may have that the wrong way around ... you had every right to be angry with me ... I carelessly put Katie in danger ...." She lowered her eyes as they threatened to fill with tears.

"That's where you're wrong .... It weren't your fault she decided ta go off on her own ...," argued Sully gently, raising her beautiful, sad eyes to meet his. "You didn' know she could reach up an' open the door .... neither did I .... Didn' have a clue she'd grown that much .... We've both gotta watch her more carefully now I guess ..."

"But I fell asleep," protested Michaela soulfully. "She could have been hurt ..."

"Yeah ... she coulda bin ... but she weren't .... An' you shouldn' feel guilty for fallin' asleep .... Matthew told me you were awake with William a few times durin' the night before ..."

"That's no excuse ... I put our daughter in danger ..."

Sully shook his head. "If anyone should be blamed .... it should be me .... I wasn' here ..."

"You were working," protested Michaela immediately. "Katie was *my* responsibility."

"But she shouldna bin .... I shoulda bin here ..."

Michaela suddenly straightened her shoulders and her eyes glinted. "You were working Sully .... Even if you hadn't been away for Welland Smith, you probably wouldn't have been here ... you'd have been working with Matthew .... or Robert E .... It would still have been my fault ..."

"But don' ya see Michaela .... I'da bin here durin' the night .... I'da bin able ta help ya when William woke so many times .... You wouldna bin so tired." He abruptly bent down to place a kiss on her lips when she looked about to protest once more. Then he added, "I've decided I aint goin' away agin for Smith 'til William's sleepin' better .... You shouldn' have ta do it all on your own ..."

"But Sully .."

Again he kissed her, then said softly, "No more buts .... my mind's made up .... We'll make do .... Money aint everythin' ....."

She sighed and leant in against him, knowing better than to argue any further. She'd never win, besides, she had no objections to him laying beside her every night. She pulled back and peered up into his face. She still needed to say it. "I'm sorry Sully .... that I fell asleep .... even if you don't blame me for it .... I blame myself ..."

He lovingly kissed her forehead and then her cheek, knowing better than to argue any further. He'd never win. "No need ta apologise for anythin' .... Gonna make sure ya git plenty of rest now .... an' I'll be here ta help with William in the night ....," he said softly. He embraced her again, soothingly caressing her womanly curves. "When I came home yesterday .... ya looked real content .... peaceful like .... I love ta see ya like that ..."

She smiled shyly at him and then stood on her tiptoes and whispered, "I was thinking ... dreaming .... of you .... and looking forward to when you returned home ..... I missed you ..."

"You were? You did?"

She nodded shyly. "When you're away I spend my time looking forward to your return ...."

He clasped her tightly against himself. "And when I'm away .... I look forward ta gittin' back to ya," he murmured lovingly against her hair. "I love ya Michaela .... now more 'an ever ..."