ACT III

"Afternoon Dr Mike," she said, pouring steaming coffee into Michaela's nearly empty cup. "Sully's late hmmm?"

Michaela nodded. "Its probably the rain," she replied with misgiving. "It was very quiet in the clinic this morning .... People are avoiding coming into town unless they have to .... That's probably why I'm restless ..."

Anna Marie gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute ... Would you like to order something to eat?"

"No thanks," replied Michaela, shaking her head. "Not until ..." She abruptly stopped and sighed with relief as Sully entered the café, his eyes roving over the patrons, seeking her. She stood and waved, and he strode across to the table. "Sully ... you're soaked!" she exclaimed.

His hair was plastered to his head and water dripped down his face and onto his saturated chest and shoulders. He shrugged and swiped at the water on his face with his hand. "Seem to've bin ridin' around in it all mornin'," he remarked dispiritedly, removing his soaked jacket, sitting down opposite her and holding out a clean coffee cup to Anna Marie for some of the steaming brew. "Thanks," he said to her, as he lifted the cup to his lips. She nodded and moved away.

When he'd lowered the cup and wrapped his hands around it to warm them a little Michaela asked hopefully, "Any luck?"

He shook his head, sending a light spray of water across the table. "Wouldn' listen," he said angrily. "Tried Morris at the mill first ... He said Preston told him not ta believe anythin' I said ... so I rode back to the Chateau ... Preston practically threw me out ... Seems he's had a telegram from Hough too ... I tried everythin' ta git him ta listen ...."

Michaela reached across to lay her hand on his saturated arm. "So what do we do now?" she asked. "Is there any sign of the ground under that log pile giving way?"

Again he shook his head. "Take a while yet ... water aint built up enough ... but if this rain keeps up ..."

"We'll think of something Sully," she assured him with a wan smile. "We have to ..."

He nodded. "Ran inta Dorothy outside the Gazette office ... She said she's gonna have another try with Morris ... He seemed ta believe her yesterday ... It was only Preston changed his mind ...," detailed Sully with a frown.

"Its worth a try," returned Michaela. "But it depends on how convincing Preston's been ..."

They lapsed into silence for a moment while Sully savoured the hot coffee, then Anna Marie came and took their lunch order. Throughout their meal, they discussed ways in which they might persuade Preston and his foreman of the folly of ignoring the danger the heavy rains brought with them, however Sully was consistently adamant that Michaela should not speak with Preston about it.

Michaela had been aware for a long time of the way Sully felt about Preston's ingratiating attitude towards her. Of course, he'd say he wasn't jealous, but she was almost certain he was. For all his assuredness, she knew Sully always felt a little insecure where she was concerned. In the main she found it endearing, but at a time like this it was more frustrating than anything. She had no time for Preston Lodge and his pompous ways ... but if there was a chance he would listen to her ... She was startled from her reverie by Sully saying, "I'm gonna have ta go see Cloud Dancin' ... see if he's got any ideas ..."

Before she could respond, two figures approached their table and a familiar voice said, "Hope we're not disturbin' ya Dr Mike ... Sully ... but we were wonderin' if we could speak with ya."

Michaela smiled widely. "Grace ... Robert E," she rejoined. "You don't have to ask ... we love visiting with you ... Please ... sit down with us ...," she entreated. As soon as they were seated, she asked, "How are the babies? There's nothing wrong I hope ..."

Grace immediately shook her head. "They're just fine Dr Mike," she replied, her smile broad and infectious. "But ... well ... they're kinda why we wanted ta speak with you ... well Sully really ..."

Both Michaela and Sully frowned in puzzlement. "Me?" asked Sully.

"Uh huh ...," said Grace, swallowing nervously. "Ya see ... well ... me an' Robert E ... we've bin talkin' an' ... well ..." She paused and her eyes met her husband's imploringly.

"Look Sully," began Robert E, taking up from where Grace left off. "The truth is ... me an' Grace've bin talkin' ... ever since the Town Council meetin' .. an' we were thinkin' ... well .. we were wonderin' whether ya might think some more about that Minin' Board job ..."

Sully immediately shook his head to which Grace reached out and lay her hand on his arm. "We just want ya ta think about it ... seriously ... before ya say no," she implored. "Please ... for us ..."

He frowned again. "Why me?" he asked sullenly. "You both know what I think about the land an' these minin' companies comin' in an' makin' a mess of it ..."

They both nodded. "Sure we do Sully ... but they're gonna keep doin' it anyways," rejoined Robert E, unconsciously echoing Michaela's argument. "Unless the Board can do somethin' about it. You see ... we got ta talkin' an' realised its real important Colorado Springs has someone on that Board we can trust ... Imagine if someone like Preston ended up on it ... He wouldn' be worried about the land ... or the drinkin' water ... or the fellas workin' in the mines ... all he'd be worried about was how much money he could make out of it ..." He paused, giving Sully some time to digest what he was saying, then he continued. "Me an' Grace've bin blessed with two beautiful children ... an' then we got ta thinkin' what could happen if our drinkin' water got poisoned ... or somethin' else bad happened ... You got kids ... ya must know what we mean ..."

Sully swallowed and then said quietly, "I aint your man ..."

Robert E shook his head. "We think ya are," he said just as quietly.

"Ya gotta understand ... I just couldn' do it ..."

Grace turned to Michaela. "I could see at the meetin' you realised how important the job is Dr Mike," she beseeched.

Michaela nodded. "Yes it is important ... and Sully and I have discussed it ... but its *his* decision ...," she replied, avoiding meeting her husband's eyes.

"Yeah it is," he agreed, "An' I still don' understand why ya all think I could do it ... If you're so worried about it Robert E ... what about *you* puttin' your hand up? ..."

Robert E chortled quietly. "I know a little about farmin' an' a lot about blacksmithin' ... that aint gonna help when it comes ta makin' decisions about minin'," he rejoined, a touch of irony in his tone. "But *you* know about the land ... *you* know about minin' ... an' don' care about the money dishonest or careless companies could bring to the town ... We want Robert A an' Olivia growin' up safe ... We want everyone kept safe ... an' you're someone who'd try ta make sure o' that ..."

Sully again stubbornly shook his head. "You don' know what you're askin'," he rejoined quietly. "I just couldn' do it ... You're askin' me ta go against somethin' I believe in ..."

"We're askin' ya ta help keep our kids an' town safe," returned Grace earnestly. "At least think about it some more ... please ..."

"I aint gonna change my mind," Sully insisted. "Besides I got more important things ta think about right now." His eyes met Michaela's and he stood. "I'm gonna go out ta see Cloud Dancin' ... Don' know when I'll be back ..."

She nodded, but as he stepped away from the table, she couldn't help remarking quietly, "Keeping those workers safe out at the mill is very important to you ... isn't it Sully?"

His eyes narrowed with resentment as her barb hit home. He paused briefly and then strode crossly from the room.

****************
A wet and miserable Dorothy rode slowly into the lumber mill yard. She was drenched to the bone, despite trying vainly throughout the ride to hold an umbrella over her head with one hand and manage the reins with the other. She glanced nervously across at the purpose of her visit - the log pile set into the slight slope down to the stream. There was not yet any indication of a problem, though it was obvious the water was building up and spreading out over the ground around the pile. She believed Cloud Dancing and Sully with all her heart and soul. If they said something serious was going to happen, then it was, and she had to do everything she could to stop it.

It seemed quieter here today, though the noise of the driving rain combined with the rushing of the water in the rapidly expanding stream belied it. She realised there were fewer workers around, probably due to the continuing rain. She spied a couple working on the dangerously slippery barn roof which was almost finished, while two more, just inside the entrance to the barn, were uncovering the wagon which had stood by the stream the day before. There appeared to be a large engine or boiler on it, capped by a high, wide smoke stack. Preston had boasted of purchasing the very latest model in steam driven saws - for better efficiency, he'd said proudly. That was all very well, but if he managed to destroy the mill before it could be put to use ...

She awkwardly stepped down from the saddle, the water from her umbrella trickling annoyingly down her neck as she did so. She cursed under her breath and then shivered as the coldness seeped down her back. She straightened her skirt, pulled her coat more closely around her and futilely held the umbrella over her head once more. She cast her eyes about for Mr Morris and spied him as he emerged from a building close by the large barn. "Mr Morris," she called, waving her hand. "Mr Morris." She started out towards him.

The foreman's eyes narrowed as he ascertained the identity of his female visitor. After the haranguing he'd received this morning from that half-caste Sully, the last thing he needed was more of it from a woman, especially this woman. He marched across the yard towards her, cursing the rain which soon drenched him and did little for his disposition. As he neared, he said loudly, "If you're here about those logs ... I aint interested ... Had enough o' that this mornin' from that Sully fella ..."

Dorothy assumed a smile she did not feel and rejoined, "That's partly why I'm here Mr Morris ..." When he looked about to interject, she added hastily, "But I was also hoping to change your mind about that interview."

"Said I wasn't interested in that either," he returned sullenly.

"Perhaps we could talk about it?" she suggested.

He frowned and then unexpectedly offered, "Come on up to my office ... I don' mind talkin' about it I guess ... can't do much work out here with this rain anyways ..."

Dorothy, surprised by his sudden change of heart, smiled, and then, picking up her skirts which were inclined to drag in the mud, followed him up the yard.

****************
"I'm sorry we couldn' go on our picnic like we planned," said Matthew to Lydia as they came through the alley between the Gazette office and the medical clinic.

"It doesn't matter," she said quietly. "I enjoyed our late lunch at the café anyway." She huddled closer to him as the rain seemed to become even heavier. "I sure wish this rain'd stop though," she observed. "The street's turning to mud ... an' I'm already sick of feeling damp ..."

"At least this time o' year ya know it aint gonna go on forever," returned Matthew. "Day or so the sky'll be blue agin ... an' we'll have trouble rememberin' how this felt ..."

Lydia giggled. "Until next time," she added, momentarily resting her head on his shoulder.

They scurried across the front of the clinic and were about to step up into the shelter of the porch when they heard a horse approach from the other direction. Matthew turned quickly to see Dorothy ride up and stop in front of the Gazette office. She was drenched through and looked thoroughly miserable. It was then he realised she was not wearing a coat or hat. She wearily hauled herself from her saddle and once on the ground momentarily rubbed at the mud which smeared her dress from shoulder to hem, before painfully climbing the steps to the door of her office. Lydia too was watching and remarked with concern, "Do you think Miss Jennings's alright Matthew? ... Something doesn' look right ..."

"I was thinkin' the same thing," rejoined Matthew worriedly. "I'll go check on her ... you see if Dr Mike's in," he added, stepping down off the porch and heading up to the office door.

He knocked twice before Dorothy answered and he inwardly gasped when she finally opened the door and he could see her up close. Her eyes were red from weeping and he instantly perceived a deep hurt in them. She had been trying to wipe away some of the mud from her face and hands, but had not been very successful, although a previously concealed bruise on her cheek was now visible, as were a number of lacerations on her hands. "Miss Dorothy!" he exclaimed. "What happened to ya?"

She immediately turned away from him and walked to the back of the office, again swiping at the mud and water on her face, neck and hands. "Aint nothin' Matthew ... I fell," she remarked dispiritedly.

"You hurt?" he asked, stepping into the office.

"Only what you can see," she replied, keeping her back to him.

Hearing footsteps on the porch, Matthew turned and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Michaela at the door. Something was wrong, but it seemed Miss Dorothy had no intention of telling him what it was. He beckoned to Michaela. "Miss Dorothy's had a fall Dr Mike," he informed her, backing towards the door. His eyes met his mother's, silently conveying his message, while he said quietly, "Maybe ya oughta check her ..."

Michaela momentarily frowned and then nodded. "Of course," she said softly. "You go back to Lydia ... I'll see you soon ..."

The concerned young man nodded and then left the office, pulling the door quietly shut behind him.

Michaela walked up behind her friend. "Dorothy?" she said softly. "Are you alright?" She saw the older woman take a deep breath, so she reached out to rest her hand on her sodden shoulder. "Are you hurt?" she asked, gently turning Dorothy around. Like Matthew, she gasped when she saw her friend's condition. "What happened to you?" she asked, taking the cloth from Dorothy's hands and dipping it into the basin of water on the dresser against the back wall.

"I fell," replied Dorothy dully, sitting and then allowing Michaela to gently wash her face.

"You're bruised ... and lacerated," said Michaela tenderly, biting her lip when she saw the grazes on her friend's hands.

"Happened when I fell I guess," rejoined Dorothy in the same monotone.

Michaela's brow creased in concern. "Where were you when you fell?" she asked, delving into her medical bag for more clean cloths and some ointment for her friend's hands.

"Out at the mill," replied Dorothy, her voice barely audible.

"And no-one helped you?" queried Michaela, instinctively knowing there was more to the story than Dorothy was telling.

"Russell Sydes did ...," she replied, lowering her eyes to the floor. "Helped me up onto my horse ..."

"So he saw you fall?"

Dorothy nodded.

Michaela regarded her friend anxiously and then asked as calmly as she could, "What happened to your coat and hat? Lydia said you were riding in this weather without them ..." Dorothy abruptly turned away. Michaela squatted down in front of her. "Tell me what happened Dorothy ... please?" she implored, gently stroking the back of her friend's hand. Dorothy swallowed and tears welled in her eyes. "Please ..," Michaela reiterated.

Dorothy's lips trembled as she said softly, "I went out to the mill ... to speak with Mr Morris again ..."

Michaela nodded. "I know ... Sully told me you were going ..." When Dorothy failed to continue her story, Michaela urged, "What happened?"

Dorothy grasped her friend's hand tightly and the story came rushing out, "At first he wouldn' even speak with me ... said he weren't interested in hearin' any more about maybe problems out there ... then he suddenly changed his mind ... said we could talk up in his office ... I didn' think anythin' of it ... We went inside an' he told me ta take off my soaked coat an' hat ... then he ... he ..."

"What are you saying?" exclaimed Michaela in alarm. "He forced himself on you?!"

Dorothy bit her lip and then muttered tearfully, "He tried to ..."

"But why?! Did he hurt you?"

Tears now streamed freely down Dorothy's face but she shook her head. "He ... he ... he said ...."

"What did he say?"

A sob escaped as Dorothy admitted tearfully, "He said any woman who kept company with indians was askin' for trouble ... He'd show me I could do better ..." She trailed off and took a deep breath. "So I ran ... an' that's when I fell ..."

"And Russell Sydes saw you," finished Michaela, her eyes also shimmering with tears. "Oh Dorothy," she said softly. "You don't deserve that ... Did Morris come after you?"

Dorothy shook her head. "Guess he didn' want his workers knowin' what he was up to," she said softly. Her eyes met Michaela's. "Its bin a lotta years since a man's made me feel like Morris did today ...," she confessed forlornly.

Michaela rose to her knees and embraced her friend comfortingly. "I know," she said softly. "I know." She continued to hold her friend as she wept, but inside she was fuming. How dare he treat her friend like that ... and how did he know about Cloud Dancing anyway? When she realised there was only one answer to that question, and the spectre of a conceited Preston filled her mind, her anger doubled. At last, as Dorothy's crying abated, Michaela sat back on her heels. "Why don't you go to your room and change into something dry and warm," she suggested. "You've been through quite an ordeal ..."

"I am kinda cold," admitted Dorothy. "You won't tell anyone will ya Michaela?" she entreated. "I couldn' stand people knowin'."

"Some people will have to," Michaela rejoined immediately. "He can't be allowed to get away with it .."

Dorothy shook her head. "Please ...," she implored.

"What if he treats someone else like that?" Michaela explained. "We should have him charged ..."

"My word against his," returned Dorothy dejectedly. "But you're right ... I couldn' bear ta hear he tried the same thing with someone else ..."

Michaela stood and then patted her friend's shoulder reassuringly. "Good," she said quietly. "I'll have a word with Daniel ..."

As Michaela stepped away, Dorothy grasped her arm. "Please Michaela ... keep it quiet ... If people find out why he did it ..."

"Its alright," Michaela reassured her. "I'm sure Daniel will be discreet ... Now go on in and get changed ... I'll ask Lydia to come in and keep you company ..."

"That aint necessary .."

"I think it is ... you shouldn't be alone ... at least not for a little while ..."

Dorothy nodded resignedly, wearily stood and walked through the door into her room.

Michaela stood for a moment after she'd gone, trying vainly to control the anger that threatened to consume her. At last, taking a deep breath, she gathered her medical supplies together and ventured back out into the rain.

*****************
"I still think we should o' waited for Hank ta git back inta town," Matthew remonstrated yet again, as he and Michaela rode towards the Lodge Creek Mill. "What are we gonna do when we git there?"

Dismayed to discover that Daniel was in Denver and Hank was out at one of the cattle ranches trying to settle a dispute, Michaela had been too angry to sit around and wait for one of them to return. She'd told Matthew to saddle his horse and then they'd set out for the mill. He'd tried right from the beginning to dissuade her, although it was obvious he was almost as angry as she.

The truth was that the continual heavy rain on the ride out had sobered Michaela somewhat, and she too was beginning to regret her rashness. Legally, there was nothing they could do about Morris until either Daniel or Hank were on the scene, and she knew how Sully would react when he discovered she was out here. Still, her stubbornness prevented her turning back, and she kept telling herself that Sully and Cloud Dancing might be at the mill anyway, trying to yet again convince Morris of what he must do. If Cloud Dancing *was* out here she had every intention of sending him back to town to Dorothy. She needed him right now.

They approached the mill from the west, on higher ground than the stream which they were dismayed to see was swollen to at least five times its normal width and depth. The water had built up a momentum, the fast current trapping anything in its path, and they observed tree branches and even a couple of small animals rush past them with the torrent heading south east towards the river. Michaela's heart began to pound. There was no mistaking the treachery of water when there was plenty of it and it was angry enough. Had the log pile already been undermined by the water teeming down from the mountains and foothills?

On drier ground at the edge of the mill yard they brought their horses to a standstill and climbed down from their saddles. Everything seemed fine. There were men working industriously in the huge shed set high up in the clearing - it seemed they were installing a giant steam driven saw, the funnel of which protruded through the roof of the barn. Behind it, solid, built-in drying racks lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Now that the roof was finished, the men were able to work out of the rain, unlike Michaela and Matthew. As they walked past the huge pile of logs, Michaela regarded them nervously. The ground around them was soft and very wet, and, in its quest for the stream below, water now poured freely down the low, man-made bank at the back and on either side of the pile. She shivered and quickened her step, Matthew staying close beside her.

Bill Morris peered out of the window and his eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw the lovely lady doctor walking across the mill yard, obviously seeking someone. He grasped his coat from the hook behind the door and headed down to greet her. He was in need of a diversion on this dreary day.

***************
"Look fellas ... I don' think I can do anythin' about it!," reiterated Hank for what seemed the umpteenth time. "Its *his* land ... an' he can do whatever he likes on it ..." He gritted his teeth and made to enter the saloon.

"But it's a safety issue Hank," repeated Sully adamantly, stopping him yet again. "What about those fellas he's got workin' for him? ... Don' they count?"

Hank turned to face Sully and Cloud Dancing once more. "Sure they count ... but some o' those fellas out there bin workin' in lumber for years ... they gotta know if the rain's gonna cause a problem ..."

"But they do not," stated Cloud Dancing resolutely. "It has been raining for many hours now ... Water will be flowing down from the mountains ... it does not like anything to be in its path ..."

"Those logs are awful big an' heavy," rejoined Hank dubiously.

"But they have placed them over a wash ... where the water pours down the slope on its way to the stream ... The ground is soft ...," repeated the medicine man. "It will give way ..."

"You seem awful sure of that," said Hank with a frown.

"Very sure," returned the medicine man, his gaze unwavering. Sully too nodded, watching for Hank's reaction.

The barkeep was obviously torn. What if someone *did* get hurt out there and he might have been able to do something about it? He took a deep breath. "I aint sure I can do anythin'," he muttered. "We could even be charged with trespassin' ..."

"But you're the law," stressed Sully.

"That don' give me the right ta interfere in another man's business ... even if that man *is* Preston Lodge ..."

"At least go out there and try to convince them of the danger," recommended Sully. "Preston's told Morris not ta listen to me ... but he might listen to you ... as deputy sheriff ..."

Hank's eyes narrowed and then he peered out at the heavy cloud and tiresome rain. He'd been looking forward to some dry clothes and a couple of shots of his best whisky to warm himself up.

"Sully?! Cloud Dancin'?!" called a voice from across the street.

All three of them peered through the rain to see Dorothy at the door of the Gazette office, young Lydia hovering behind her. To their surprise, the editor placed a cape over her head and rushed across the street towards them. "I'm so glad to see you ... I've been worried," she exclaimed, as she stepped up onto the porch and shook the rain from her cape.

All three of them frowned at her appearance and Cloud Dancing immediately asked, "Dorothy ... what happened to your face and hands? Are you alright?"

She reddened and self-consciously lifted her hand to her bruised cheek. She took a deep breath and then said quietly, "I ... I ... fell ... out at the mill ..."

Sully regarded her carefully. She wasn't telling them everything - that was obvious. "Fell?" he asked mildly, while Cloud Dancing's eyes never left her face.

She nodded. "Uh huh ... that's why I wanted ta speak with ya ... Michaela an' Matthew went out there ... about an hour ago ... I didn't want 'em to ... but Michaela insisted ..."

Sully's jaw clenched and his eyes glittered. "Why'd she insist Dorothy?" he demanded, his tone steely.

Dorothy refused to meet his eyes, but after a moment, she admitted, "She was angry ... with Morris ..."

"Angry?" asked Cloud Dancing quietly. She nodded, so, as he gently placed his fingers on her sore cheek, he suggested, "Was it something to do with his?"

Her eyes welled with tears. "Uh huh," she admitted.

"Morris did this?" he asked, his voice rising a little.

"Not ... not really ... I fell ..."

"But?"

"But he ... he ... tried ta ..."

"What'd he try Dorothy?" demanded Hank at once, his eyes suddenly glittering with anger.

"He .. he ..."

"I think we can guess the rest," concluded Sully tensely. "Did he hurt ya?"

"He didn't get the chance ... I ran," explained Dorothy with a gulp. Her shimmering eyes met Sully's. "I know Matthew's with her ... but ya gotta go out there Sully ... I figure she was hopin' you two'd be there ... She'd know she couldn' do anythin' about him without the law behind her ..."

Sully shook his head ruefully. "Somethin' like that won't put Michaela off when she's angry ... even if it puts her in danger," he remarked dryly, his eyes meeting Hank's. "She probably thought she'd try ta convince 'em about those logs too. You comin'? Cos I'm goin' back out there ... now ..."

Hank heaved an exaggerated sigh. "I'm comin'," he muttered resignedly. "But I don' know what we're gonna do ... 'cept git your stubborn wife outta there."

Sully slapped Hank on the back gratefully and all three stepped back out into the downpour.

If anything, the rain became heavier during the ride out to the mill. It was difficult to see and the clouds seemed to be settling down on the foothills earlier that afternoon. Like Matthew and Michaela, the threesome were forced to ride high up above the stream which was usually easy to follow and cross. Today, it was wide, deep and a raging torrent.

At last they drew their horses to a halt alongside those of Matthew and Michaela and, dripping wet, slid from their saddles. Ahead, in the dimness of the mill yard stood a small group amongst whom there was considerable gesticulating and loud, angry, but indecipherable words. The stance of all three men visibly tensed and hands balled into fists. At least four of the mill workers were there, including Morris and Russell Sydes, their attention fixed on the diminutive Michaela. Sully's eyes narrowed angrily when he realised Morris was shouting at her.

Expressions grim, Cloud Dancing, Sully and then Hank, started across the clearing, but after only a few paces, the medicine man abruptly stopped and his eyes darted worriedly to the log-pile nearby. He tensed and grasped both Sully and Hank by the arm as they made to move off again. The medicine man's hand tightened urgently on Sully's arm, and he whispered, "Do you hear it?" On cue, an ominous creaking came from the direction of the pile of logs. He abruptly tugged Sully and then Hank backwards, back in the direction of their horses. In a split second, Sully realised what was going to happen and his heart jumped into his throat. His eyes fixed on his wife and the others in the clearing, he screamed at the top of his voice, "Michaela! Matthew! Run!"

It seemed to take forever, but in reality was over in seconds. With a thunderous rumble as the ground beneath it gave way, the log pile heaved, then jerked and haphazardly began to slide and roll across and down the slope towards the stream. Like matchsticks, several logs were up-ended and sent off course by others as they moved over the soft and uneven ground.

Sully watched in horror as the group turned at his shout, took a moment to realise the gravity of the situation, then started to tear across the mill yard away from the heaving, rolling mass. His heart pounding, he saw Matthew grasp Michaela's arm, tugging her along with him, then she suddenly tripped over her mud-caked hem, slowing them down just enough to put them in danger. One log, thrown off balance by the mass moving beneath it, seemed to abruptly rear up and then crash down on them before rolling onwards, leaving mother and son laying on the ground, motionless. Held firmly by Cloud Dancing beside him, Sully struggled to breathe and fought the urge to take on the rolling logs, anything to reach his wife. He was oblivious to the fate of the others, two of whom were also sprawled on the ground, unmoving. His entire consciousness was with Michaela, laying facedown in the mud.

And suddenly it was over and there was silence, except for the relentless, torrential rain, and the overwhelming flow of water from the mountains above, still intent on reaching the stream. The logs lay strewn about the mill yard, both across and submerged in the swollen stream, as if they'd been picked up by some giant hand and randomly thrown down again.

When the last log had stopped moving, Sully tore from Cloud Dancing's grasp and set off across the obstacle course that was once the clearing. Hurdling giant, muddy logs and squelching in the oozing mud, he raced towards Michaela who had not moved. Reaching her, he dropped to his knees and, heart pounding, placed his hand gently on her back, praying to the spirits he would feel her breathing. When she was, he heaved a deep sigh of relief and then, realising their dire circumstance, his brow creased in consternation and fear. Michaela would say that you should never move a patient whose injuries are unknown. How was he to discover and then treat her injuries? He cast his eyes about anxiously, to see Matthew stirring and trying to sit up and two more men laying motionless close by. At that moment, Cloud Dancing, followed closely by Hank, arrived and the medicine man sank down beside Matthew who seemed dazed, but otherwise unhurt.

"Sully? She alive?" asked Hank in dread, stooping down beside them.

Sully took a deep breath and trying to control the quaver in his voice, replied, "Uh huh ... but she's unconscious."

The barkeep gently rested his hand on Michaela's back. "What do we do now?" he asked worriedly. "Turn her over ... check out what's wrong?"

Sully shook his head. "Ride out to the Chateau an' git Doc Fulton ... an' ya better tell Preston what's goin' on ... then we're gonna need some help out here ... We're gotta see how those two fellas are," he instructed urgently, nodding towards the two workmen who had not moved.

Hank sprang to his feet. "Won't be long ... She'll be alright Sully," he said, backing away. "I'm sure she will ..." He broke into a run, his long blond hair lank and tousled by the wind and rain as he set out on his mission.

As Hank disappeared into the distance, Sully turned his attention back to his wife. His eyes shimmering, he bent down to check her mouth and nose were not blocked by the mud and then gently kissed her temple. "You're gonna be alright Michaela," he whispered against her ear. "Ya gotta be ... we need ya ... *I* need ya ..." He felt so powerless. He turned his face upward, the rain spattering against his skin, as he begged the spirits to save his wife. Oblivious to the mud and rain, he moved to sit down by her head and reached out to gently clasp her hand which she'd thrust out to cushion her fall.

"Is she alright?" asked Cloud Dancing, dropping to his knees by Sully.

He shrugged his shoulders. "She's breathin'," he replied. "That's all I can tell ... I'm scared ta move her ..."

Cloud Dancing bent down by her face and then felt for a pulse. "Her colour is good," he reported. "And her pulse is too fast, but strong ..."

"So why don' she wake up?" implored Sully, unconsciously stroking her hand with his thumb.

"We do not yet know her injuries," rejoined the medicine man. "But she is strong." He sat back on his heels, then again bent and gently lifted Michaela's head. He frowned. "She has a bruise here ... on her forehead," he commented. "Perhaps that is why she has not yet woken."

Sully nodded and closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. At last he opened them again and asked, "What about the others?"

Cloud Dancing's eyes flew to where Matthew sat beside one of the men. "Matthew has an injured knee and arm, but will be alright ... The one there near him ... he is injured also, but conscious ... The other ..." He trailed off and lowered his eyes.

"He's dead?!" exclaimed Sully.

Cloud Dancing nodded.

"What about Morris?" asked Sully, beginning to boil inside.

Cloud Dancing looked up and beyond his brother's shoulder. Sully swivelled his head to see the foreman walking dazedly towards them, picking his way over the scattered logs. "Are ya satisfied now?!" Sully lashed out. "This enough ta make ya believe us?!" he remonstrated loudly.

The man's brow creased and almost despite himself, he continued towards them, shaking his head. He paused some six feet away and his eyes focussed on Michaela, laying motionless on the ground. "She gonna be alright?" he asked fearfully.

Sully's expression hardened. "We don' know," he replied coldly. "Waitin' for Doc Fulton ta git here ..." He lifted Michaela's hand and lovingly rested it against his knee. "Anythin' happens to her ... an' I'll kill ya Morris ... I swear I will," he threatened, his tone like steel.

The man swallowed. "You ... you an' her ..." He trailed off.

"She's my wife," finished Sully cuttingly. "An' like I said ... if anythin' happens to her ..."

The foreman gulped and seemed close to tears. "It aint my fault," he offered in his defence. "Mr Lodge ..."

"Lodge is a fool," retorted Sully scathingly. "I bet you didn' try too hard ta change his mind neither ... You shoulda known better ... Aint ya ever seen a wash before?"