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Evening shadows were darkening an already gray, wintery sky by 4:30, when I finished feeding the animals and returned to the silence of my empty house. As I stood at a window, staring out into the fading twilight, I suddenly couldn't face the thought of being alone during the coming night. Storm stuck her head inquisitively over the gate and whickered as I removed her harness from its peg and approached her stall. Leading her to the front of the barn, I quickly saddled up, secured the wrapped bundle of clothing I would need for the next day behind me, then rode toward the Sully homestead. As always the feisty mare was eager to run, and we covered the distance between the two houses just the last faint rays of the sun momentarily streaked the sky with ribbons of red and gold, then dipped below the horizon. I had dismounted and started to tie Storm to a post when Brian came out onto the porch, followed by Sully. "Miss Caitlyn!" The boy gave me a pleased smile. "We're in for a downpour." Sully glanced at the roiling, dark clouds as he came down the steps and took my mare's reins. "You made it here just in time." "I couldn't stand being by myself tonight." I looked up at him. "I hope that y'all don't mind having company?" "You're always welcome," he reassured me quietly as the first raindrops struck our faces. "Fact is, I'm real glad you came." "Is it the baby?" My heart started beating too rapidly. Without answering, he turned as Brian joined us. "Mind takin' care of her horse so I can get Caitlyn inside where it's dry?" "Sure thing, Pa." He nodded agreeably, leading the animal quickly toward shelter as the wind began to blow sheeting rain in our direction. Hurrying into the house after Sully, I stopped in front of the fireplace to warm my hands. "Has Mike started bleeding?" I asked tersely, studying his face. "I dunno." He hurried to rescue Katie from where she was perched on the top stair before she could tumble down the flight in her eager dash to greet me. "Whatever's wrong, she ain't ready to talk about it. Least not to me. She went straight to bed soon as we got home." "I'll go up and check on her." I took Katie from him, smiling as she patted me lovingly on both cheeks with tiny palms and pressed her lips to mine. "Kaey's gonna get a pie for supper," she crooned encouragingly. "And I thought that you were glad to see me!" I chuckled, hugging the child close. "She is." Sully grinned ruefully. "Even at her age she starts looking worried when her Pa acts like he's fixin' to cook." "After I see about Mama, I'll do something about filling up your empty tummy." I rubbed her dress over her stomach lightly. "Okay?" "Michaela was sleepin' when I looked in on her maybe half an hour ago." "Then it can't be a miscarriage." I felt an enormous sense of relief as I met Sully's gaze. "If it was, she would be in too much pain to sleep. I'll make dinner, then try to get her to eat." "What can I do to help?" "You could give this one her bath a little early, so I won't trip over her while I'm cooking," I laughed as I put Katie down, and she immediately buried her head against my riding skirt and sucked her thumb. "Sounds like a good idea to me." He swung his daughter up into his arms and nuzzled her under the chin, making her giggle. The two of them disappeared up the stairs, and I rambled through the pantry, searching for something that I could prepare for a quick meal. Mindful of how disappointed Katie would be if I didn't produce her favorite treat, I used a can of cherries to make a cobbler, and slid both the pie and cornbread into the oven to bake. The meat from a leftover cooked ham, cut up into a creamy white sauce and served over hot squares of cornbread, would serve as an entree, and I cooked acorn squash and lima beans, wishing once again that it was easier to get a wider range of fresh vegetables during a Colorado winter. By the time Sully galloped a sweet-smelling Katie back downstairs, neighing and pretending to buck her off of his back, Brian was coming in from tending my horse, followed closely by a wet and bedraggled-looking Matthew. Frowning at the puddles of water that were forming around their feet on Mike's waxed wooden floor, I pointed toward the doorway. "Take those hats, boots and coats off out on the porch, then get back in here before you both freeze to death," I scolded. "Yes, Ma'am." Matthew grinned, sniffing the air appreciatively as he stepped back out to do my bidding. "You got enough on your mind tonight without havin' to take on our brood, too," Sully suggested quietly, finding a rag to wipe up the rain from the living room floor. "At least now I have something to keep me busy." I smiled as Katie again attached herself to me. "Time to eat suppa, Kae-lin," she ordered. "Soon, sweetheart," I promised, preparing two cups of tea with milk and sugar for Matt and Brian. Picking up the drinks, I met the two of them at the front door as they re-entered the house. "Here. This should help warm you up." "Hey, thanks." Brian smiled. "If you want to run upstairs and change out of those wet clothes, we'll wait dinner for you." I passed Matthew his cup. "As long as you don't take more'n five minutes." Sully chuckled, watching his small daughter determinedly push a chair back from the table so that she could climb up. "My girl's not goin' to be willin' to wait one second longer'n that." "She doesn't have to." I scooped the child up in my arms and deposited her into the highchair, then put a plate that I had fixed earlier and set aside to cool in front of her. "Yer gonna make a real good mother," Sully opined softly, as I tucked a towel around Katie to protect her clean nightgown and handed her a spoon. Tears flooded my eyes at his words, and I swallowed hard. "You can't possibly imagine how badly I want to be allowed that chance." After the meal was over, the three males began to clean up the kitchen, and I used the good china to prepare a tray to take up to Michaela. Impulsively detouring into Colleen's old room, I slipped into my nightgown before padding barefooted into Mike's and Sully's bedroom. After watching her for a long moment, I set the food on a table and then bounced myself onto the opposite side of the mattress and stretched out prone, deliberately jostling her. Her eyes blinked open, and she looked at me in astonishment. "Caitlyn?" "You're faking it," I accused lightly. "You weren't really asleep. When the five of us tried that trick growing up, Ethella always called it 'playin' 'possum." "What on earth are you doing?" Mike asked hoarsely. "Visiting." "HERE, in my bed?" "Since it's my birthday, and you've decided to hide out from the rest of the family, I thought that the two of us could have a spend the night party." I grinned, amused by the baffled look on her face. "Maybe even have a pillow fight before the night's over, the way I used to do with my sisters. Betcha two bits I'd win." "You've gone mad," she groaned, covering her face with a pillow. "Tell the truth--you were never really a child, were you?" I lifted one corner to peek at her. "You're some sort of changeling--sprung fully grown from the womb of an Irish fairy. That's why you don't have a clue how to play." "Stop tormenting me, and go away." She pressed the pillow down more firmly. "Sully should have told you that I'm sick." "He did. And it scared the bejesus out of me," I confessed, propping my back against the headboard and pulling part of the duvet away from her and across my icy toes. "I was afraid that you were losing the baby. But you're just plain old mad about something." "I am not." Her reply was muffled by the mound of feathers over her head. "Okay, then you're pouting." "I do NOT pout!" "Then are you just feeling sort of ornery and hateful and mean?" "Cait!" "Give me a minute...I'm trying to remember if there already is a Saint Michaela," I chuckled. "If we keep going, and you remain completely free of all possible faults, we might have a shot at qualifying you for the honor..." "Caitlyn, please--leave me alone," she whispered, sniffling. "Afraid I can't do that, Doc," I refused amiably, reaching over and tugging the pillow away to expose tear-reddened eyes. "Not until you tell me what it is that's bothering you." "I don't feel like talking." "Then we're stuck with each other." I sighed. "With Sully downstairs, worried sick that something is wrong with his wife and baby, and you up here, burrowed down under the covers pretending to be asleep, you're leaving me with no choice: I would lose my reputation for meddling in my friends' lives if I didn't at least try to find out what is going on around here. And my reputation is in enough danger as it is." "I am not sick! I am not mad! I am not pouting! There is absolutely nothing for you to be concerned about!" She blew her nose. "In that case, are you ready for dinner?" I got up and retrieved the tray. "I'm not hungry." "The baby is," I insisted. "So you'll have to make an effort to eat." "You simply don't give up, do you?" she asked in exasperation. "Not when I care about someone." I smiled, placing the tray across her lap before turning up the flame on the lamp. "It's one of my more endearing qualities." "Your more ANNOYING qualities," she corrected me. "At least I don't make a habit of lying around on my back, talking to people with my head stuck up underneath a pillow." I climbed back onto the bed and watched in silence as she took a few tentative bites, then seemed to discover that she actually was hungry. "This is good," she admitted reluctantly. "Of course it is--I cooked it. If the Town Council fires me, I'm expecting you to give me a reference so that I can go to work for Grace." "No one is talking about firing you." Mike sighed. "Hank is not the man that I would have chosen for you--but Sully would most definitely not have been my family's choice for me either. How can I blame you for following your own heart?" "I never knew that it was possible to love this much." I used a corner of the sheet to wipe away unexpected tears. "Seeing Hank injured and locked behind bars was almost more than I could bear." "As much as it hurts, it's a thousand times worse to have the army out searching for him--to be terrified each and every time that you hear a knock on the door that someone is coming to tell you that he's dead..." Something in her tone of voice caught my attention, and I studied her carefully, realization dawning. "You're still hurt because Sully didn't confide in you about what he was planning to do out at the reservation. Because he was gone from home when you needed him the most. That's a large part of what's been wrong with you ever since you discovered that you were pregnant again, isn't it?" "It's over and done with." She bit her lip. "Sully made his decision, and I have to live with it." "Over and done with means that both of you have put it behind you and gone on--and you obviously haven't." I brushed away a strand of hair that was clinging to her tear-dampened cheek. "Does he know?" "I honestly thought that I had forgiven him," Michaela whispered. "That I had managed to put it completely out of my mind. But with the baby coming... He's gone for days at a time now. Surveying. What if it happens to me again, and he's not here?" "One of us would ride out for Sully and get him here," I replied firmly. "There are no guarantees, Michaela. Something could go wrong in any pregnancy, at any time--you know that better than I do. And--God forbid--if it happened to you again, you would grieve until the pain finally became bearable, then get back up and go on." "You have no idea what it's like to lose a child," she accused, her voice breaking. "No, and I hope and pray that I never will." I reached for her hand and squeezed it. "But I do know that you've been blessed with that wonderful little girl who's sleeping in the next room, three children that Charlotte left to you, and that unborn baby inside of your womb. You have so much to be grateful for... Don't allow sadness over the one that you lost rob you of all of the joy of carrying the one yet to come." "Don't you think that I've tried to put it out of my mind?" The tears came more freely. "Then, damn it, try harder!" I shifted on the bed to face her, my knees drawn up under my chin. "For nine years I bottled pain up inside of me in a place where no one could see and know. I could have wasted the rest of my days reliving old memories, but it wouldn't have changed what happened. Don't cheat yourself the same way that I did, Michaela. This is the only life that you get. No one is saying that you ever could or should forget, but it's long past time for you to start living in the here and now." "Sometimes I wonder whatever possessed me to think that I could be a good doctor..." She sobbed. "I couldn't even save my own child." "No matter how good the doctor is, our lives are still in God's hands." I wrapped my arms around her comfortingly. "Some seeds grow and bloom where they're planted--others wither and die too soon. Some never come up at all. Maybe in another garden, in another season, their time will come." "Lately I feel so...unsure of myself." Mike shook her head. "I can't let my patients see, or they would lose their confidence in me as a doctor. I've start second-guessing--wondering if I'm doing the right thing, instead of letting my instincts and my training guide me. There are so many who are gone now: Snowbird, the baby, Marjorie, Ingrid, Anthony...Becky...all of those people who lost their lives to diptheria. Nothing that I did was good enough. As hard as I tried, I couldn't save them." "If it hadn't been for you, this town would have had twice as many deaths as it's had since you came here. Maybe more," I reassured her quietly. "By now Loren, Dorothy, Myra, Horace, Hank, Cloud Dancing, Sully, and God knows how many others would be gone. You're not infallible. Sometimes there is simply no cure. But you're a fine physician, Dr. Mike. If I thought otherwise, would I have trusted you to take that splinter out of my finger a few months back or allowed you to treat my bruised knees?" "You're disgustingly healthy." She tried to smile, then closed her eyes for a moment. "I need this baby so much, Cait. I don't think that I could stand losing another one." "Sometime in the next few months we're going to be standing at the front of the Church, and I'll be proudly holding my favorite godson while Reverend Johnson christens him Josef Byron Sully," I predicted firmly. "I don't have any doubt about that whatsoever. You'll be standing there smiling--alongside those four beautiful children that you already have, your son-in-law, your new grandchild, and a wonderful husband who calls you his Heart Song--secretly praying that Caitlyn won't accidentally drop the little darlin' into the baptismal font." Much to my surprise my words brought on a fresh storm of weeping, and I sat back on my heels. "I don't understand," I confessed honestly. "I have no idea whatsoever what I just said that upset up." "Sully doesn't--care--about me any more," she cried brokenly. "Not the way--that he used to." "Of course he does." Spotting her handkerchief box, I retrieved a dry one, taking the soggy scrap of cloth that she had been using away from her and dropping it onto the rug next to the bed. "Why would you even say that?" "Watching you and Hank--made me remember--what it used to be like-- between Sully and me." She was crying as if her heart would break, and I reached for her hand again, holding it in mine. "I could feel--this electricity--between the two of you--when you walked into the room. It was written all over Hank's face...that he's fallen--in love with you. I've never--seen him look--at another woman that way. Sully used to--look at me like that. Now he--he--doesn't even....want me." Bewildered, I searched for the right words. "Byron Sully would give you the world, wrapped up with a big, red, satin bow, if he could. The last thing in your life that you should ever doubt is the depth of that man's love for you." "Ever since he found out about--this baby--he hasn't touched me," she admitted flatly. "Not once. Not--intimately." Comprehension dawning, I stared at her in surprise. "Surely to God you know why?" "I'm older than Sully." She sniffed. "And--when he was helping me climb into the wagon to--come home--he put his hand on my--stomach--and told me that I was getting--FAT!" "Oh, Michaela." I shook my head, chuckling. "You silly, silly goose. I've told you all along that you have absolutely no sense of humor. You ARE bigger--you're PREGNANT! Nearly five months pregnant! Sully was teasing you--sharing a private joke--because Brian and Matthew still haven't been told that you're expecting a baby. If he hasn't touched you, it's only because he's afraid to, not because he doesn't want to. I don't know yet what it's like to--belong--to Hank, but sometimes he has this look in his eyes that makes me shiver--and Sully looks at you in exactly the same way." "But he--" "Michaela, listen to me," I ordered. "Don't you realize that Sully can sense how afraid you are right now? He knows that you're terrified of miscarrying again, and it's only human for him to blame himself for not being here when it happened before. The last thing that he's going to do is make love to you if there is any chance at all that it could put either you or this child at risk! If it's safe for the two of you to be together now, then TELL him! YOU'RE the doctor!" "Sometimes it feels like Sully and I don't know each other any more... He's away so much--and when he is home, Katie requires most of our attention. It seems as if the two of us are never alone--that there's simply not enough time..." "Make time." "But--" "Make time," I repeated, interrupting her. "Send Kates to spend the night with me--or I'll come and stay, and the two of you can use my house or go to Denver for the weekend! Michaela, I'm obviously no expert on love and marriage, but I do know that if something is lost, it's up to the two of you to find it. That no one else can. The love is definitely there between you and Sully. What you two have is something that I've envied you for ever since I came to Colorado Springs." For several minutes she cried against my shoulder, while I stroked her hair, then she pulled herself together and sat up. "You really don't think that Sully's--grown tired of me?" she asked wistfully. "I think that Byron Sully will love you and want you until he's one hundred and four," I predicted softly. "Even if you don't have one little smidgeon of a sense of humor." "I don't understand what it is that's wrong with me." She wiped her eyes, her breath catching as she regained control. "It wasn't like this when I was carrying Katie. I'm either crying or snapping at the children and Sully--or I'm asleep." "If I came to you at this stage of pregnancy--with those same symptoms--what would you tell me to do?" I questioned mildly. "I would tell you to go home, get out the rifle, and make Hank put a ring on your finger." "What next?" I smiled. "There are some herbal teas that might help--along with making certain to eat the proper foods and get enough rest, fresh air, exercise, and sleep," she admitted ruefully. "And I would tell you to try and relax. That this is a normal, natural process." "I've always heard that doctors make the worst patients. Apparently, it's absolutely true." Getting up off of the bed, I opened her wardrobe, rummaging through the garments that were hanging there. "Would you mind telling me what it is that you're doing?" she inquired. "Looking to see if you hid my birthday present in here." "Is today really your birthday?" "Afraid so." I continued to sort through her clothing. "I'm sorry. I had no idea." "No one in Colorado Springs knew." I shrugged. "Although I did get a gift from our local sheriff: Hank in a box." "At least it's not a pine box," she said quietly. "Ah, yes!" I sighed with pleasure, pulling out an elegant pegnoir set. "This is it." "Am I supposed to guess what that means?" Mike arched one brow. "I'm prescribing the rest of your cure. Matthew is going to bring up the tub and hot water, and you're going to soak for half an hour at least, with a cold rag on your eyes to get rid of the puffiness. Then you're to put this on, brush your hair fifty strokes, add a dab of your best perfume, and change the sheets. You have an hour--then I'm sending Sully up." "And?" "From there, you're on your own. I'm afraid that I can't help you very much." I grinned. "Although I might be able to give you a few pointers on kissing now, if you really need my advice..." "Whatever made you think that I would trust a wild, crazy woman like you to be my child's godmother?" she demanded, rolling her eyes. "What better incentive could you possibly have to make you want to live to be an old lady than knowing that Hank and Cait Lawson would be raising your little Byron?" I laughed. "Sully would never name a son of his 'Byron!" "So call him 'Joe." I suggested, examining the fine silk and lace of the tea-rose colored outfit that I had laid on the bed. "I can't believe that the practical Dr. Michaela Quinn actually bought herself something this fabulous to wear to bed. There may be hope for you yet." "Mother gave it to me as a wedding gift. I've only worn it once." "I should have known." I searched her wardrobe again for a robe and slippers that I could borrow. "Remember--one hour. Starting the minute that bathtub is filled. And I'll see you in the morning." "If I'm awake when you leave for school..." She smiled suggestively. "I might feel the need to sleep in." "I certainly hope that you two don't keep me awake all night... moaning and groaning...or I'll really start to miss Hank." "Caitlyn!" She drew in a shocked breath before starting to giggle. "I don't mind losing a little sleep." I winked. "Not if it's for a good cause." When I got back down to the livingroom Brian had already gone upstairs, leaving Matthew and Sully talking in front of the fire. They looked up at me in expectation, and I saw the fear in Sully's eyes. "It's nothing serious--just a little...dyspepsia," I reassured them quietly. "But it might help her to feel better if she could have a long, hot, relaxing bath in her room, if you wouldn't mind going to that much trouble for her, Matthew?" "Be glad to do it." He nodded. "Then I'm going to turn in." "How about a cup of tea? Or would you rather have coffee?" I smiled down at Sully. "Tea's fine, if that's what you're having." Going into the kitchen I took my time in preparing a pot of Earl Grey, arranging cups, sugar and milk on the tray that I had emptied and wiped clean, deliberately waiting until after Matthew had bid us both goodnight before glancing at my watch and rejoining Sully. He was still in one of the wingchairs, his eyes closed as he absently rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. "Headache?" I asked sympathetically. "It's startin' to ease off." He nodded his thanks as I poured his cup of tea. "Michaela's fine." I met his gaze. "There's nothing for you to worry about. She's having the same emotional highs and lows as any other woman in her condition, but being who she is, it's much harder for her to accept those kinds of feelings in herself than it is for the average mother-to-be. All she really needs is some rest, a good cry, and some snuggling with you." "First time I went to see about her she acted like she didn't even want me in the same room." He rested his head against the back of the chair. "I've been around a lot of expectant females in my life, and being grouchy at the beginning--moody in the middle--and cranky at the end is apparently all 'normal' and expected behavior," I said lightly. "Don't ask me why. Just be grateful that it's a time-limited condition." "Seems like nothin' I do lately suits her." He sighed. "She's accustomed to being in control--and some things in life are simply uncontrollable," I offered my opinion quietly. "Pregnancy being one of them." "Bad as she wanted another baby, I never figured she'd be far enough along that she's showin' and still not wanna tell anybody besides me'n'you." "Last time apparently everyone in town knew--and I think that made it doubly hard for her when she miscarried." I added two small cubes of sugar and a generous splash of milk to my tea. "Not only was there this overwhelming grief at the loss of your child, to her it was like a public admission of failure--both as a woman and as a doctor. But you don't need to hear that from me. The two of you need to talk--about a lot of things." "I did what I had to do out at the reservation." I saw his jaw clench with resolve, the matter closed as far as he was concerned. "I didn't mention anything in particular that you and Mike needed to talk about," I pointed out quietly, picking up my tea and taking a sip. "Didn't have to." "You obviously still consider it a sore spot, or you wouldn't have automatically assumed that was what I meant," I responded levelly. "Talkin' ain't gonna change what happened." "You're right--it won't." My tone was flippant as I got up and moved to stand in front of the fire to warm my back. "So why don't you get out the cards and let me beat your socks off in a game of canasta?" "Sooner or later they woulda killed Cloud Dancin'. I had to do somethin' to keep it from happenin'." He frowned, ignoring my suggestion. "By now, she oughta know that about me." "She does." "Then why's she still blamin' me?" "Sully...Michaela knows that you had your reasons, and she loves and respects you enough to accept that you did what you believed was right." I struggled to find a way to explain. "But it occurred to me a long time ago that men and women deal with things quite differently. I'm one of four sisters, and we all have this need to talk everything out that men don't seem to have. My brother and his friends would go behind one of the barns, have themselves a good fistfight, and it would all be over. But as girls we were allowed no physical outlet that we could use when we were angry, so we tended to hang onto old hurts and probe them again and again like a sore tooth. What happened is going to come between you and Michaela until you are willing to open up the wound and let the poison out--and that won't ever happen if you do to Mike what you just did to me. I felt like you closed the door in my face before I even had time to explain to you what I meant." "The only apology I got to make for what I did is for not bein' here when she needed me." He folded his arms across his chest. "An' I already told her that." "This isn't about apologizing." I shook my head slightly. "During the past week and a half there were times when I thought that I was going to lose my mind. When not knowing where Hank was--or if he was even alive--was like this weight pressing me down, smothering me. I know now the kind of hell that Michaela lived through while she was out there searching for your body. Being pregnant apparently brought back a lot of those bad memories and fears that she tries her best to hide. She's not only afraid that something might happen to this baby, she's scared that if it does she'll have to go through it alone again. That you'll be out on a surveying job." "I can't stay home for nine months," he responded grimly. "I have to work for a livin'." "I think all that Mike's looking for is reassurance...to know that you are listening to her and understand. Not for you to be there to hold her hand every minute until the baby comes. She needs you, Sully--and at the moment she's feeling insecure about everything. She's even worried about whether or not you still love and want her the way that you did in the beginning." "I love her more with each year that passes." He looked taken aback. "Maybe she needs to be reminded of that." He started to set aside his cup and rise from the chair, and I stopped him, shaking my head. "Not this very minute." I smiled. "She's been crying. Give her a little time to make herself feel pretty again." For a moment he seemed puzzled, then he relaxed back into the chair and returned my smile. "Think I'll go borrow Matthew's razor." "He's probably asleep by now." I poured more tea into both of our cups. "Old as he is, he oughta understand that sometimes a man just gets in the mood to shave before bedtime." Eyes that had been clouded with worry earlier in the night now sparkled with relief. |
