For personal use and select distribution only © by Pam Hunter May 1997
By Pam Hunter

I watched "A New Life" on tape recently - one I have not watched very often, it has not been one of my favourites. While watching, this parallel theme came to mind. I hope that its not too obtuse or fanciful. If you have not seen "A New Life" (Episode 1, Season 4) it will probably make no sense at all!

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Sully finished making sure that the fire would be safe for the night, placed the poker on its stand and then slowly stood and stretched his neck, back and arm muscles - it had been a long long day for both he and Michaela, after all they had sat up all night on the train and then the townspeople had spent most of the day helping them move into their new house. He felt bone weary. He could hear Michaela still sorting things out in the kitchen even though the children had gone to bed hours ago - he marvelled at her boundless energy.

He looked slowly around the living-room lit only by the fire and a couple of lamps over by the stairs. He knew every board, every window pane, every nail, because he had worked them and put them into place in this home he had built for Michaela and the children. But it seemed so different now. With the furniture from the old homestead and Michaela’s things set out, it had lost its former familiarity. He again became aware of a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, an uneasiness, which he had first noticed about the time they started moving their belongings into the homestead this morning, and which had not abated all day.

He ran his hands over the back of the new wingback chairs and smiled - last time he’d seen them they were in the train carriage on his and Michaela’s wedding night - when the memories of that night stirred his mind and senses the gnawing feeling almost dissipated.

Next he moved to the table and chairs from the old homestead. Michaela had asked Robert E and Matthew to place them in the living-room rather than the kitchen where he’d always thought of them going when he was working on the house. Again that gnawing feeling. It was kind of like that fancy suit he’d bought and worn in Boston. It was a good fit, in fact the kids said it looked great, and yet it was uncomfortable ….. restrictive ……. unfamiliar. But Michaela had liked it - he’d known straight away by the look in her eyes and the half-smile she’d given him.

Speaking of Michaela ………

He strolled into the kitchen in time to see her on tip-toes trying to put a heavy dish high up on a shelf. He took the dish from her, placing it where she wanted. "Isn’ it time to call it a night Michaela," he said quietly as she turned towards yet another box. "You must be as tired as me ……. we can do the rest of this in the mornin’."

She turned towards him and he held out his hand. She took it and, after blowing out the lamps, he slowly led her up the stairs and onto the landing. At their bedroom door he swept her up into his arms, "gotta carry you over the threshold," he whispered. Michaela giggled, "you did that this morning." "Not this special one," he said. They had come a long way in two short weeks but Michaela still displayed some of the shyness and hesitancy apparent before their wedding. She blushed, her eyes dropped from his and she bit her lip between her teeth, but if anything her grasp on his shoulders tightened and she pulled herself closer against his chest. As he entered the room with her in his arms the earlier gnawing feeling completely disappeared. This was definitely where he belonged. In this place there was no need for any fancy suit.

Sully woke to daylight streaming through the windows and across the bed. He propped himself up on his elbow to watch Michaela sleeping - this he would never tire of. She looked so little and fragile and beautiful, her hand tucked under her chin, her long dark lashes brushing her cheeks, her body curled up facing him. He reached out to gently brush away a lock of hair which had fallen across her face and was filled with an overwhelming desire to ensure that her life with him would always be fulfilling and safe. He felt excited about their future together.

And yet, as he turned onto his back to contemplate what the day might hold, yesterday’s gnawing sensation returned. He looked out through the closed window to the mountains beyond and felt torn between what he wanted to do and what he felt he should do. Like trying to decide whether or not to put on that Boston suit or stick to the familiar buckskins. He made a decision, rose quietly so as not to disturb Michaela, dressed and went downstairs to where Colleen had prepared breakfast. After eating he headed out to the barn.

As he led his horse out Michaela joined him. He knew by the quizzical look in her eyes that he let her down when he couldn’t say when he’d be home but his uncertainty left him tongue-tied. As he galloped away towards the hills he ignored his feelings of guilt and revelled in the brisk air and the sensation of being as one with the world around him. The gnawing feeling gradually eased and then disappeared.

Later, he watched as Michaela and Colleen tended to Cloud Dancing’s wound. It was lucky he had gone out there this morning, those bounty hunters might have killed Cloud Dancing and he would never have known or been able to help. It had been a difficult return journey to the homestead with his friend hurt and weak but he knew that Michaela would look after him. Afterwards, while Colleen was dressing the wound Michaela asked him what had happened and her look when she realised how close both of them had come to being killed had cut him to the core and with it returned this morning’s unease. As Michaela walked towards the homestead and Cloud Dancing appeared at the door of the barn he looked from one to the other trying to cope with a whole range of new and uncomfortable feelings - the top collar of the fancy shirt needed undoing and the tie needed loosening a little to stop him from choking.

The next few days passed in a haze for Sully. After persuading Cloud Dancing that the only safe place for him was the new reservation at Palmer Creek he set out to make sure that his friend would be as comfortable as possible there. Meanwhile he sat through evening meals with Michaela and the children, full of laughter and also indignation at the antics of the town’s new banker Preston Lodge, but all the while the gnawing feeling, the uneasiness, remained, so that he felt that only a part of himself was participating in these family scenes. The other part of himself was trying to deal with something he could not quite put his finger on. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t quite make that fancy suit fit the way he thought it should. The only time he felt truly comfortable and the gnawing feeling disappeared was at night lying with Michaela in their room, exploring their new intimacy, shut off from the world around them.

The afternoon Sully came upon Michaela talking with Preston Lodge near their barn offered a part solution to the puzzle. Preston left after Sully refused to build his new house and then he and Michaela talked about ‘belonging’. Michaela had always been such an independent woman, that was one of the things which had attracted him to her in the first place, and yet she opened up and talked about them being a part of each other now. He’d never looked at it like that; that she was experiencing changes to her world as he was; that each of them had to make adjustments to accommodate the other; that belonging meant change. He got the feeling she was letting him know it was alright to take off the fancy tie, maybe leave the jacket open a little ……….

Out at Palmer Creek Cloud Dancing was finding adjusting to a new life of restrictions difficult. Sully knew it - he could see it in his friend’s eyes. He tried to help as best he could but when Cloud Dancing attempted to break up a fight between two warring Indians and was hurt he realised that he had cost Cloud Dancing his freedom by bringing him to the reservation. He tried to tell him that, let him know that he understood and that he’d help his friend get away if that’s what he wanted and yet Cloud Dancing turned the tables on him and asked him whether he was worried about his own freedom. That stopped him in his tracks. Was he? Was he worried about having to wear that restrictive fancy suit more often that he desired or was used to? Maybe the suit could be made to fit more comfortably. The now familiar gnawing sensation eased a little.

When Michaela came home from looking after Matthew who’d been hurt in an argument with Preston Lodge he tried to tell her that he understood what she was feeling and that he’d been thinking about the way he’d been acting over the last week or so. He didn’t feel as if he did it very well but she seemed to understand him a little better. He hoped his offer to share the garden with her would show her how he was feeling and that he was trying to work things through. That fancy collar and tie didn’t feel so tight any more and the waistcoat didn’t restrict his breathing like it had before.

It all came into perspective when Cloud Dancing got a day pass to come into town. He brought his new flute with him - Brian was real impressed. When Matthew asked Cloud Dancing how he was getting on out at the reservation he replied that he would survive, that he would keep the Cheyenne song alive as long as he was true to what was in his heart. Sully suddenly realised that that was the key. Both he and Cloud Dancing had experienced recent changes to their lives - dramatic changes - but they were each still the same inside. All the fancy suits in the world couldn’t change what was inside a person, in their heart; and the gnawing sensation disappeared.

As he stood at the window of their room that night, looking out at the moonlit scene, Michaela walked up behind him and placed her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his broad back. She whispered, "I don’t mind if you open the window Sully and let the breeze in, maybe it’ll feel more like you’re used to." Sully smiled and pushed open the window, breathed in the fresh, crisp air and then turned to take her into his arms and thank her wordlessly for her understanding.

As he lay with Michaela curled up beside him, her head resting on his chest, his last conscious thoughts before falling asleep were about that fancy Boston suit. Come to think of it the suit fit pretty well now. It had sort of moulded to his shape over the years; the more he wore it the more comfortable it became and he’d worn it a lot lately, especially in Denver on his and Michaela’s honeymoon. In fact he hadn’t noticed it restricting his movements or feeling unfamiliar for quite a while. He’d also come to learn that it was his choice as to when he wore it in preference to the familiar buckskins and that it was alright to occasionally take off the tie and undo the top button of the shirt or to sometimes take the jacket off and leave the waistcoat open. Michaela didn’t mind …………..