Their horses picked their way over the rough terrain, Wolf trotting ahead of them. The mid-afternoon sun was sinking on the horizon and a chill had permeated the air. They would need to make camp before long. At this time of the year, daylight faded quickly.


All Sully knew for certain was that they were heading into the mountains. Cloud Dancing said little else but Sully trusted his friend. When they reached the right spot, Cloud Dancing would sense it. The weight of Buffalo hides lay across the backs of their horses. They would need them to construct a sweat lodge. They had spoken only briefly since embarking on their journey early that morning, content to breathe in the familiar surroundings. Once, back when the Cheyenne roamed this land along with the Buffalo, Sully had known every inch of this landscape. Riding through it again felt like a homecoming. He titled his face toward the sky, let the beauty of the mountains soak into his skin. For a few moments, he released his mind from care.


Then the vision of Michaela's face overpowered him and guilt crashed down around him. Her eyes had been dry as she said good-bye to him that morning. The tears from the night before were gone but he could still see the bleakness in her face. He'd kissed her gently.


"I'm sorry," he'd whispered. "I have to do this."


Katie ran toward him and he knelt down. She threw herself into his arms. "Don't leave, Poppy, " the little girl had pleaded. "I don't want you to go."


He'd hugged her tightly. "I'll be back before you know it. Take care of your Ma for me."


He'd slapped Brian on the shoulder and swung up onto the back of his horse. The last sight he saw, before he turned his horse toward the mountains, had been Michaela's small, sad smile. He couldn't make her understand. He didn't understand it himself.


"We are here."


Cloud Dancing's voice pulled him from his reflections and he looked around. It was a cleared space among the trees, backing onto the mountains. Nothing more. Yet Cloud Dancing was glancing around with satisfaction and Sully dismounted without question.


"The spirits are strong in this place," Cloud Dancing stated.


Sully pulled the skins from the back of his horse. "Best get started. Night's comin'."


Cloud Dancing slid off his horse and nodded. "Tonight we will rest. Tomorrow the healing will begin."


Michaela was locking the door to the clinic as Dorothy approached her.


"Afternoon Michaela," the woman called out. "I was wonderin' if you'd like to join me at Grace's for supper?"


"Thank you Dorothy," Michaela answered, smiling, "but I should be getting home. Brian and Katie…."


"Brian and Katie," Dorothy interrupted, "are waitin' for us at the café. I found them in town and took them over there myself."


She grabbed Michaela by one arm. "Now, there's no sense arguin'. Everythin's arranged."


"So I see," Michaela murmured, but she allowed her friend to pull her toward Grace's. She'd left Brian in charge of Katie earlier in the day as her patient load began to swell. There was the usual assortment of sore throats and stomach upsets but, for the most part, the day had been uneventful.


The children were already at a table, glasses of apple cider in front of them, when the women arrived. Michaela spent a couple of minutes admiring Grace's one year old son before joining the others. The child's enormous brown eyes and ever-present smile always softened her heart. Grace beamed with pride as she held the boy in her arms. It was wonderful to see the woman so happy again. Motherhood fulfilled Grace in a way that nothing else ever could. Robert E. appeared around the corner and Grace handed the boy off to his father.


"Now folks," she said, as Michaela found a spot at the table. "What can I bring you?"


They placed their orders, Grace teased Brian with the promise of pumpkin pie for dessert, and they settled in for the meal. "Got a letter from Colleen today," Michaela informed the group. "She says that they'll be arriving two days before Thanksgiving, on the same train as Matthew. I can hardly wait to see all of them."


'Think Sully will bring home a turkey for us?" Brian asked. Michaela hesitated. "Perhaps you could take care of that this year, Brian?"


The boy exchanged a quick glance with Dorothy. "Sure."


From a table on the other side of the café, Hank's mocking laughter erupted. Michaela glanced over. Hank, Loren and Horace were sitting together. Horace seemed to linger on the fringes of the group but Hank and Loren were across from each other, leaning over the table, their heads close together. Hank was whispering something and pointing in Dorothy's direction.


Michaela raised her eyebrows. "What's that all about?"


Dorothy scowled. "They've been sayin' things ever since Cloud Dancin' came back. Jake too."


"What sort of things?"


Dorothy glanced toward Katie and Brian. "Best not talk about it right now."


"They said that Miss Dorothy likes spendin' time with savages," Katie piped up, innocently. "What's a savage, Mama?"


"Katie! Where on earth did you hear that?"


"In Mr. Bray's store. Jake said it. Hank did too." She looked at Dorothy's flushed face. "Do you, Miss Dorothy?"


"Well now, young lady," Michaela said quickly, hoping to distract the child. "I hear that you've been very busy today. What have you been up to since you left the clinic?"


Katie began to chatter. By the time the meal was finished, the little girl had outlined every single minute of her day. Brian corrected her account from time to time, when her imagination took free reign. Michaela only half-listened. She nibbled at her supper, picking through the food without much enthusiasm. Hank, Loren and Horace crossed the café.


"Hear that husband of yours took off with that Injun," Hank remarked as he sauntered past their table. "Kinda makes you wonder why, don't it? What about it, Michaela? Think Sully's hankerin' to go live in one of them teepees again?"


"I think," Michaela answered, hotly, "that whatever Sully chooses to do is no one else's business."


Loren was smiling wickedly. Horace glanced from Hank to Michaela, his long face worried, his small eyes alert. Hank smirked at her. "What's wrong, Michaela? Did I hit a nerve?"


Michaela turned away from him.


"Come on, Hank," Horace pleaded. "Dr. Mike don't wanna talk to you right now."


She could hear Loren chuckle as the men moved off and left the café.


When she looked up, Dorothy was watching her closely. "Brian," Dorothy suggested, without removing her gaze from Michaela's face, "why don't you take Katie for a walk? I'd like to speak with your ma - in private."


"I don't want to go for a walk!" Katie objected.


"Come on, Katie," Brian coaxed. "I'll take you to the meadow. Someone's set up a horseshoe pit on the other side."


Katie agreed reluctantly.


Dorothy waited until the children were out of sight before speaking. "All right, Michaela. Tell me what's goin' on." "What's makes you think anything's going on?"


Dorothy shot her a look of disgust. "I'm not blind. You've barely touched your supper and you've been mopin' around ever since Cloud Dancin' came back. What's wrong? It's Sully, isn't it?"


Michaela pressed her lips together, her need to unburden her worries and her equally strong desire to keep up appearances battling against each other. Finally, she sighed heavily.


"Sully's gone off with Cloud Dancing to find some answers," she admitted softly. "He hasn't been happy lately."


"He told you that?" Dorothy prodded.


"Not exactly, but I've known for a while now. He … he seems restless, like he's searching for something. It frightens me." "Why?"


She looked down at the cold food on her dinnerplate. "When I first met Sully, he liked to be by himself. He'd disappear for days at a time and I'd have no idea where he was or what he was doing. Then he'd show up with no explanation whatsoever. In those days, we hadn't made any commitment to each other, so I accepted it. Then, after we were married, he settled down more. He'd still leave at times but he always came back at night. When Katie was born, he started to stay around. Hardly ever left at all."


"So, now you're thinkin' that he's goin' back to his old ways?" Dorothy questioned. She looked thoughtful, as if she knew the answer already.


"It's not just that," Michaela explained. "It's more. For a long time, whenever Sully and I were separated, I could see him in my mind."


She smiled, clearly embarrassed. "I know it sounds strange, Dorothy, but we had some kind of connection. I can't explain it but I could picture him. I could see what he was doing. I could almost hear what he was thinking. Several times, when one of us was in danger, the other one knew it. Our thoughts were connected somehow. When I was kidnapped by the dog soldiers, that's how Sully found me - through his thoughts, through that connection. He actually saw me and I could see him. He heard me call out to him. Later, when he fell from the cliff and I thought he was dead, I found him in the same way. I could see him - lying on the ground and badly wounded."


She was picturing the image, her gaze unfocused and far away. "I don't know what it was but I think … I always thought that it happened because our love was so strong. At those times we seemed to have one mind, one soul." Dorothy's eyes were moist.


"Oh, Michaela! That's the most romantic thing I ever heard!"


Michaela blushed. "Yes, it was." She paused. "For the last little while, ever since Sully came back from surveying, I've felt like that connection is missing. I try to imagine him, to see what he's doing, but there's nothing there. It's gone, Dorothy. The other day, when I found out what he was planning to do - this trip with Cloud Dancing - I began to wonder …."


Dorothy reached over and squeezed her fingers. "What? Tell me, Michaela."


Her answer was nothing more than a whisper. "I wondered if some of his love was gone too. If that's why the connection was broken. If Sully doesn't love me like he once did."


"No Michaela! Don't even think that way!" Dorothy's voice sounded shrill. "That man loves you more than life itself! I know he does. I see it whenever he's with you!"


Michaela could only nod, weakly.


The campfire was dying. They'd snared a rabbit for supper and Cloud Dancing's belly was full. He felt content and sleepy, hypnotized by the few remaining flames. He watched as they licked feebly at the logs, breathing in the scent of burnt hickory. Across the fire from him, his friend sat wrapped in a blanket, a cup of hot coffee clutched between his hands. The firelight danced across Sully's somber face and Cloud Dancing studied him, unnoticed. It pained him to see his friend in such torment. Sully had never mentioned his conversation with Michaela but Cloud Dancing saw how much it upset both of them. Michaela's sadness marked her like a gaping wound and Sully … well, he'd learned long ago how to read Sully's silences. Sully looked up suddenly and smiled grimly. "Guess I'm not much company tonight."


"You will be, when you find your answers." The Cheyenne added softly, "So will I."


"You came here lookin' for answers too?" Sully asked.


Cloud Dancing nodded. "Yes. We will find them together."


"Is it Dorothy?"


"Yes, and no." The medicine man returned his gaze to the fire.


"When I was with Snowbird and living in my village, I knew in my heart where I belonged. Now my village is gone, my wife is dead, and I am living with other Cheyenne, in another place. My heart no longer speaks to me. It does not tell me where I need to be. I must go to the spirits. They will tell me."


"Everythin's changed." The pain in Sully's voice startled him.


"Yes," he said, looking at his friend again, "the past is gone. The life we knew is gone."


"I know." Sully took a long sip from his coffee cup.


"Do you?" Cloud Dancing raised his chin and held Sully's gaze. "When I saw you in the dream, everything behind you was dark. There was nothing there. Ahead of you, there was a light. But you let the wind push you backward, into the darkness, into a past that is no more."


"How do I know what's ahead of me? How do I know what the light means?"


"You will know," the Cheyenne answered simply. "The spirits will show you. You cannot step back into the darkness, my brother. When you see what lies ahead, you must go forward. Only then will you be able to walk in the light."


"That light - it's also ahead of you?" Sully asked.


"Yes. Before we leave here, we will both know where it leads us."


Sully awoke before the sun climbed over the horizon and lay still, listening to the sound of Cloud Dancing's even breathing. Throughout the night, Wolf had lain beside him, his chin propped on top of Sully's leg. Now the animal had disappeared, probably to hunt for breakfast in the woods.


Sully stared into the sky, watching the blackness turn to shades of gray. In a few hours time, he would sit naked in a sweat lodge, his body damp and fevered. No food, no water. No sunlight. Nothing but the sound of water sizzling on the hot rocks of the fire and his own voice chanting to the spirits. From there he would enter the woods and find a sacred spot, spread out a buffalo hide and surround it with rocks, sit within the circle for days at a time. Hungry. Thirsty. Battered by the elements. Sully welcomed the chance to see into his own soul, to find his path, but he could clearly remember the discomfort of other vision quests. For a little while he needed to be off by himself, in the forest, listening to the sounds of nature all around him. It would prepare him for the days ahead. He slipped out from underneath his buffalo skin, reached for his shirt, yanked his boots onto his feet. He planned to return by dawn, before Cloud Dancing had a chance to miss him. Without making a sound, he slid into the wall of trees surrounding the campsite and disappeared.


The two men were staggering from the effect of the moonshine as they followed the trampled path. They'd been out in the woods, checking to make certain that their still was safely hidden among the trees. They'd made their first mistake when they decided to sample the brew, to see if it was ready. It was. Once they had a taste of the moonshine, they craved more. They'd been at it most of the night and now they hoped to return to their cabins before daylight and sleep it off before their wives woke up. They were both mountain men. They lived a solitary existence and that's the way they liked it. When they'd first met, they'd treated each other with suspicion, raising their rifles and squaring off against one another. After that they'd discovered that their homesteads were in the same vicinity, only a mile or so apart. They'd decided to help each other out once in a while. They'd also decided that they could build a still and brew their own moonshine, sell it in town once in a while when they were short of cash. The saloon keeper in Colorado Springs gave them a fair price and he was only too happy to take it off their hands.


They were pleased with themselves as they stumbled along, counting up the money they would make from their latest batch of moonshine. The older one, Ned, wanted to buy a new hat and some chewing tobacco at the store in Colorado Springs. Tyler, the heavy-set one with a beard that reached down to his waist, wanted to buy his wife some perfume.


"She don't smell so good sometimes," he told Ned, then laughed drunkenly at his own joke.


Later on, Tyler wouldn't recall his reason for peering into the treeline, just as the first hint of light streaked the morning sky. He never heard a sound, never sensed the man's presence. Yet, for some reason, he glanced sideways and he saw him - a flash of deerskin trousers through the trees, the outline of someone with long hair.


"Injun!" he cried out, raising his rifle. "Damn Ned, it's a stinkin' injun!"


Tyler squeezed the trigger and the gun exploded. He heard the snapping of branches, saw the body crumple to the ground.


"I got him, Ned! I got him good!"


When the two men stepped around the trees, they stopped dead in their tracks.


"Dammit Tyler," Ned hissed, "that weren't no injun! You shot yerself a white man."


For a long moment they stared down at Sully's body. He was lying on his back, blood staining his shirt where the bullet had entered. He lay perfectly still, his eyes closed. "Com'on! Let's get outta here!"


They crashed through the underbrush and staggered out onto the path beyond.


The gunshot woke him as it echoed through the forest. His hand closed around the handle of the tomahawk beside him and Cloud Dancing sprang to his feet instantly. His gaze flew toward Sully's empty bedroll. Then he was running, charging through the trees toward the origin of the gunshot, his eyes wide with panic. When he found Sully, Cloud Dancing fell to his knees beside him. He placed his ear against Sully's chest, listened for the sound of a heartbeat. He could hear it, weak but steady. Blood stained his friend's shirt, seeping out around the jagged hole where the bullet entered Sully's chest. The wound was on the right hand side, just below the man's collarbone. He grabbed Sully's arms, hoisted his friend up over his shoulder. He would carry him back to the camp and examine him, make him as comfortable as possible. Only then would he be able to leave him and find Michaela.