by Becky

As the sun set, Michaela rode out to the ridge overlooking the canyon, hoping Sully would be there. The beautiful lookout was one of their favorite places, and she knew he often came out to the quiet spot to think. She was relieved when she spotted Sully's horse Buck tethered to a tree.

Sully turned with his arms folded and walked toward her. "How'd you find me out here?"

"I just had a feeling this is where you would be." She dismounted Flash and tethered her beside Buck. "It feels so good to be back on a horse again. I can't tell you how much I missed riding."

"I think Flash is glad to have ya back, too. Don't think she really liked me."

Michaela patted Flash's shoulder and then approached Sully. "I don't mean to intrude. If you want to be alone that's all right with me. But I was talking to Mother tonight and she reminded me of something I want to share with you."

"What's that?"

"Well, when I was a child my father did something that hurt me deeply. Hurt all of us really."

"Your pa? What could he have done?"

"He accepted a year-long residency in Paris and left us all for Europe. He and Mother weren't exactly getting along at the time and I always suspected that was partly why he left. I felt like he had given up on her, our family, that he was leaving us. Me."

He stepped closer to her, intrigued. "You never told me about this before."

"Honestly, I'd forgotten about it. It was so painful and so I suppose I chose not to remember. Father felt so guilty he returned after only a few months. But it took me a long time before I was ready to have him back in my life." She folded her hands. "When we're young, our parents are supposed to be the most perfect people in the world. When they don't live up to that, it's difficult to accept. I suppose it was at that moment I realized my father wasn't the saint I thought he was, and it was hard to bear." She reached out and gently squeezed his arm. "I know it's not the same as what you're going through. I know it can't even compare. But I want you to know I understand how it feels to be hurt and betrayed like this. And how hard it is to forgive."

He drew her into his arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry, Michaela. I'm sorry about all of this."

"Shh, it's all right," she murmured. "It's all right."

"Michaela, I just keep thinking', maybe my ma wouldn't of done it had he been there. Maybe she never woulda killed herself. I don't wanna blame other folks for it but I do. I blame him."

"I know, I know," she whispered reassuringly. "It's all right. Shh."

"I lost my ma," he whispered back. "I was ten years old and she was gone for good. I lost my childhood."

Tears slipped down her cheeks. "I know. It was terribly unfair. I'm so sorry that happened to you." She caressed his face in her hands. "No child should have to go through what you did. You were so brave."

He hugged her again, rocking her for a long moment. "This is gonna take time. We gotta give this time."

"I know. I'll try to be more patient. We all will."

"Meantime, I ain't gonna begrudge the kids a chance to know their gran'pa. Brian wants him at the weddin' he should invite him. And the kids should spend as much time as they want with him."

"I think that's a good first step," she replied.

He put his arm around her. "I could use some hot coffee right about now. What do ya say we head home?"

She smiled as they headed to their horses. "Let's go home."

Sully gazed up at the ceiling as he tenderly held Michaela's hand in his. Michaela had initiated their romance when they returned home from the mountain lookout. She led him upstairs and they undressed each other in front of the firelight. He kissed her and caressed her even longer than they usually did in the hopes that it would help her. But when he finally slipped himself gently between her legs she panicked and told him it hurt and they had to stop.

He wasn't sure what to say to her to reassure her. He could tell she was feeling guilty, responsible, was blaming herself for everything when he knew it was something she just couldn't seem to help. He didn't know how to convince her that he wasn't angry, that he loved her and was going to be patient and understanding for as long as it took.

Suddenly she let out a soft sob and tears fell down her cheeks. Sully quickly shifted to look at her and caressed her cheek. "Oh, shh, it's all right," he murmured.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Sully. I tried, I really did."

"Course ya did. I know ya did."

She sniffled and wiped away her tears. "Let's just, I want us to try again. I'll just bear it." She caressed his chest. "Let's try again. I promise I won't say anything."

He gazed at her sympathetically. "Michaela, you don't have to do that. I don't want us to do this it hurts ya. I'd never want ya doin' somethin' that hurts." He drew her into a warm hug. "Shh, it's all right. I'm sorry it hurts. Just sleep, all right? It's late."

She shifted back and pressed her lips to his for a long moment. "I love you. I love you so much."

"I love ya, too," he whispered, holding her all the closer.

"Just think ya should see a doctor. What if somethin's wrong?" Sully said as he leaned against the counter and watched Michaela wash the breakfast dishes.

"How are we going to afford it? We just spent all of our money on hospital bills in Denver. Not to mention we still owe Andrew for my dilation and curettage."

"I'm workin' now, I got good money comin' in. We can pay for it." He grabbed a dishtowel and ran it inside a coffee cup.

"Sully, this is all so private. I can't picture discussing all the details of this with Andrew."

"Ya don't have to tell him everything. Just tell him you're havin' some pain. Maybe he injured ya when he did the surgery. He should take a look."

She put her dishcloth aside and dried her hands. "Couldn't you come with me? I don't want to go alone."

"I gotta work today."

"You could take a few hours off, couldn't you? Please?"

He rubbed her back. "I can't, Michaela. You'll be all right. You're makin' this out to be a lot more than it is. Why don't ya ask Dorothy to go with ya?"

She shook her head.

He sighed. "All right, maybe in a couple weeks when we're finishin' up, maybe I could take some time off then."

"A few weeks? What about in the meantime?"

He stacked the cup on a shelf. "Guess we're gonna have to be patient. I'll go hitch the wagon, we'll head into town."

She dried her hands off on her apron. "All right. All right, I'll go. Today."

He rubbed her arm, smiling softly. "Good."

"What on earth are you two talking about? Is there something wrong?" Elizabeth demanded, slowly entering the room with her cane.

Sully cleared his throat. "No, nothin'. Let me get to that wagon." He quickly headed out the back door, leaving Michaela alone with her mother.

"Mother, I wish you wouldn't spy all the time," Michaela said, shaking her head.

"I wasn't spying. I don't spy. Never. I simply overheard," Elizabeth felt her forehead. "Michaela, you're so pale. Are you ill?"

"No, not exactly."

"Well, then what is it? Tell me. What's this about seeing Dr. Cook?"

"Mother, I think in this particular instance you'd rather not hear about this."

"Nonsense, of course I do. If my daughter's ill I have a right to know."

"I'm not ill. I just…Sully and I, we…" Her face reddened. "Ever since the baby's born I've been, I've been having some pain. I mean when we, when we-"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Elizabeth muttered.

"I told you you'd rather not hear this."

"Well, it's too late now. Of course you're having pain. Everyone does. You're supposed to have pain."

"I'm not supposed to, Mother. I didn't even have stitches."

"Well, you're just going to have to bear it. Sometimes the wifely duty isn't pleasant and we just have to be brave."

"That's not how Sully feels. He doesn't think we should try again until I'm examined by a doctor."

"What do you expect Andrew to do about it? He can't do anything. It's a waste of time. No, I'm afraid you're just going to have to live with it."

"I appreciate your optimism," Michaela said

"Well, I don't know what to say. You brought it up."

"You made me tell you," Michaela protested. "And I'm sorry I did."

"Michaela, I'm sorry. Forgive me, I just…I don't know how to respond."

"You managed."

She gave her arm a gentle pat. "If you really insist on seeing Dr. Cook would you like me to come with you? I could stay with the baby while you're in his office."

"Truthfully, that would help a lot. If you don't mind. Unfortunately Sully can't get away from work at the moment."

"Good. We'll go this morning then," Elizabeth said. "Don't worry, I'm sure it's nothing."

"I hope you're right," Michaela murmured.

Michaela watched nervously as Andrew laid out his instruments on a tray. He fumbled and nearly dropped a pair of forceps, but he quickly recovered and placed them back on the tray. He had her legs in stirrups and had covered them modestly with a white sheet.

"Do you have pain at any other time?" Andrew asked uncomfortably. "It's only when you, um, you-?"

"Yes, it's only then," Michaela said, just as embarrassed. "No other time."

He tentatively lifted up the sheet. "I'm just going to feel inside. I'll be as gentle as I can."

She nodded and breathed slowly as he began the examination. She was relieved that it didn't hurt, but also perplexed. It was unbearably painful when Sully touched her in the same area. It didn't make sense that it didn't bother her to have a doctor take a look.

"I'm wondering if it's an injury from the birth," Michaela remarked.

"I know for certain you had no significant tearing, at least that I could tell," Andrew remarked. "Though I suppose it's possible your cervix was injured during the dilation and curettage. I'm going to use the speculum, all right?"

"Yes, do what you need to do," she said with a stiff nod.

"What about the postpartum bleeding?" he asked. "Has it stopped?"

She gripped her pillow and winced as he inserted the cold speculum, then closed her eyes and tried to be patient as he continued his examination. "Almost. It's just a little spotting right now."

At last he straightened, perplexed. "Cervix looks normal. Everything looks normal. I'm sorry, Michaela., I don't know why you would be having discomfort. Maybe you should see an obstetrician. They would, um, I assume they would have more experience with this." He removed the speculum and put it aside.

"I'm sure he'll tell me the same thing."

He drew the sheet down over her knees. "The only thing I can recommend at this point is to give it some time." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps you're feeling a little overwhelmed by everything you've been through. Your baby's birth was traumatic. I would think it's normal to feel different after going through something like that."

"I feel fine about her birth. I can't even remember most of it," Michaela said. "I know it's not that."

"Well, then just give it time. Wait for the bleeding to stop completely. It takes time to heal after having a baby. It's best to be patient."

"Be patient," she echoed uncertainly.

He patted her hand. "I'll leave you to get dressed."

Horace sorted through the mail and put it in the mail slots. Samantha was on a stool happily stamping some letters at his counter. He stopped short and gazed at the return address on an envelope. He turned it over skeptically.

"How's this, Papa? I'm finished," Samantha announced.

"That's real good, honey," he replied fleetingly. "Can you wait here a minute? Watch my telegraph?"

"Sure, Papa," she said obediently, putting the stamp aside and jumping down from her stool. "Papa, can we go to the meadow and play on the swings? Can you take me?"

"Yeah, we can do that. Later, all right?" He walked outside and found Myra sweeping the steps of the railway station.

"Myra," he called, approaching her with the letter. "Myra, you know somebody named John Madigan?"

She snapped her head up. "John Madigan? Oh….did he write?"

He looked at the envelope. "John Madigan, Vice President. Anchor Line Steamboat Company. Who is he? Why would he be writing you?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Well, he's a friend. A good friend."

He eyed her skeptically. "Just a friend."

She rested her hands on top of her broom. "Oh, Horace, I was gonna tell you. I promise I was. I was just waitin' for the right time."

He lowered the letter. "Tell me what, Myra?"

She took a deep. "Well, truth is we're…we're engaged."

He stared back at her in shock.

"Horace, I know this comes as a surprise. It was sudden for me, too."

"Myra, I didn't even know you were courting again!" he exclaimed. "How long's this been going on? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Maybe because I thought you'd act like this, looking at me like I'm making some big mistake."

"Vice president of a steamboat company? How'd he end up courting you?"

"Thank you, Horace. That makes me feel real good," she murmured, handing him the broom and quickly walking down the station steps.

"Myra. Myra, honey. Come back," he called. "Myra, I didn't mean it that way. I just, I'd like to know a little more about him."

She spun around, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't really know why you need to know anything more."

He stepped toward her. "I have a right to know anything I want about this man if he's going to be takin' part in my daughter's life. Is he good with her?"

"Of course he's good with her. He has a son Samantha's age. Do you think I would marry someone who didn't just adore Samantha?"

He folded his arms skeptically. "Where are you going to live? Are you moving?"

"Yes. He has a house a few miles away. Sam's going to have her own bedroom on the second floor."

"What about school? I don't want her to have to go to a new school."

"She's not going to a new school. She'll be at the same school she's always been at. Now could I have my letter please?" She held out her hand.

Horace reluctantly handed it over. "Well, guess I should say congratulations."

"Don't say that. I know you don't mean it," she replied. She turned around and hurried down the street for the boarding house.

Samantha shyly appeared in the doorway, watching her mother take off.

"Papa?" she whispered. "What's wrong?"

He quickly rejoined her. "Nothing's wrong, honey. Nothing at all. You wanna go swing now?"

She nodded and he lifted her into his arms, giving her a loving hug.

Michaela picked at her potatoes with her fork, pushing them around on her plate. She was seated in the café across from Elizabeth, desperately trying to work up an appetite. The baby was in her pram beside them.

"Well, at least there's nothing wrong," Elizabeth remarked awkwardly. "Not physically that is."

"I'm not imagining this, Mother," Michaela replied.

"No, no, I'm not saying that." She cleared her throat. "Well, I think you just need to … relax. Just focus on the task at hand instead of everything else that's happening. Perhaps you could make the two of you a special supper. A good meal always calmed your father down after a long day's work. He was quite the changed man once it was time for bed."

"Mother," she said, glancing up with embarrassment.

"Well, it's true."

"You've never breathed a word about you and Father before. At least not about that."

"Well, it was never relevant before." She sighed. "Oh, Michaela, stop giving me that look. I'm just trying to help."

"You're embarrassing me," she replied. "Not that I expected anything less."

"Why don't you ask Myra to look after the children tomorrow evening? I'll go along and bring the baby. You can have some time alone."

"I don't know," she replied, taking a small bite of her potatoes.

"Michaela, whatever the trouble is, you're not going to solve it with a houseful of children to look after. You two need some time alone."

She glanced in the pram at Eliza, who was fast asleep after a good feeding. "I'm not ready to leave the baby yet."

"It's just for a few hours. Not too long. She'll be fine. You both will."

"You'd really look after her for me?" Michaela murmured. "I suppose it would be nice to cook something special, have the house to ourselves."

"See?" She glanced up as Myra came into the café and waved to Grace. "There's Myra now. You can talk to her."

"Mother, I don't know," Michaela said.

Elizabeth flagged her down. "Myra!" she called.

Myra's usual smile was gone, but she scurried over. "Afternoon, Mrs. Quinn. Dr. Mike." She tickled the baby's cheek. "Eliza."

"Afternoon, Myra. How's your visit going?" Michaela asked.

Myra raised her eyebrows. "Well, it's been…interesting."

"Is something wrong?" Michaela asked.

"Well, truth is, Horace is still hangin' onto the idea that we might get back together," she breathed.

"Oh," Michaela murmured.

"He keeps sending me flowers and gifts and things like that. I don't know what to do."

"Oh, dear. Have you talked to him?" Michaela asked.

"Well, not exactly. At least he knows about my fiancé now. Only, I didn't get to tell him the way I'd hope."

"Oh, Myra. I'm sorry," Michaela said.

"I suppose there's no easy way to give him such news," Elizabeth remarked. "Won't you join us for some coffee? Sit down, Myra."

Myra took a seat. "Samantha doesn't have any complaints at least. She just loves your daughter. She's all she talks about!"

"Katie loves her," Michaela replied with a smile.

Elizabeth nodded in Myra's direction impatiently.

"All right, Mother. All right," Michaela said, shaking her head. "Myra, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"Oh, sure, Dr. Mike. Anything."

"I was hoping you could watch the children tomorrow night. The baby, too. Mother said she'll come along and help you with her. Not too long, just for the evening."

"Well, sure. I can do that," Myra said. "But what for?"

She took a sip of coffee. "Well, I, I thought…that is, my mother thought it might be beneficial if Sully and I, we have an evening to ourselves."

"Oh, an evening to yourselves is always good," Myra said with a twinkle in her eye.

"She and Sully have a slight problem," Elizabeth added.

"Mother," Michaela scolded softly.

"Oh," Myra stammered. "Everything all right, Dr. Mike?"

"Yes, we're fine," she said quickly.

"It's a little….bedroom problem," Elizabeth further explained.

Myra coughed and Michaela turned bright red.

"Mother, really!" Michaela exclaimed.

"What? It can happen to anyone. Even you two."

"We just, we need a little privacy," Michaela explained helplessly.

"You can count on me," Myra said, patting her hand. "I'll look after the children as long as you need."

She sighed, relieved. "Thank you, Myra. I appreciate this."

Sully opened the front door to a multitude of pleasant aromas. He put his toolbox beside the door and hung up his jacket, glancing at the dining room table. He was surprised to see the good candles and lace tablecloth out, and the table set for just two. He suddenly noticed how quiet the house was, save for someone chopping in the kitchen.

"Welcome home," Michaela called softly.

He walked into the kitchen. Michaela was wearing an apron and her cheeks were flushed. "Smells good," he said.

She added a handful of chopped zucchini into a pan heating on the stove to sauté.

"Where is everybody?" he asked, grabbing a piece of raw zucchini off the cutting board and popping it into his mouth.

"Myra's watching them this evening. Mother's helping."

"Baby, too?"

"The baby, too," she replied, picking up a long wooden spoon. "I thought it would be nice if you and I had supper together."

"That sounds real nice," he replied, walking to the basin and pouring water inside. "Let me just clean up." He lathered up his hands and rubbed the bar of soap down each of his fingers, trying to wash away some of the dirt and grime from the day. "There some special occasion?"

She casually stirred the zucchini in the pan, holding the handle with a towel. "Well, I just thought it might help if we have some time alone. I mean with…with the trouble we've been having. I've been having."

He cleared his throat, rinsing his hands in the basin. "Oh. Yeah. Good."

"I went to see Andrew today," she murmured.

"Good, ya did? What'd he think?" He dried his hands off with a towel.

"Well, he doesn't think I have any injuries from the birth."

"That's good, right?"

"I suppose so."

"What's he say it is? Why's this happening?"

"He doesn't know. He probably thinks it's all in my head. He said we should just be patient."

He walked toward her and rubbed her arm. "I know it ain't in your head. The pain's real to ya, I know it is. I'm sorry you're goin' through this."

She stepped into his embrace and hugged him. "Thank you, Sully. Thank you for being so supportive, so understanding."

"Just want ya to feel better," he replied softly.

"Sully, what if…what if it doesn’t get better?"

He took a deep breath, pulling back and clutching her shoulders. "Well, we'll face that when the time comes."

She pulled back to gaze into his eyes. "Sully, emotionally you complete me in every way possible. I love you so deeply I could never put it into words."

He smiled and caressed her cheek.

"But we’ve built a beautiful marriage on more than that," she murmured, swallowing hard. "Our physical relationship, it's special to me. Very special."

"Special to me too," he whispered.

"Before I married you, I didn't realize how powerful it would be. I didn't realize how much I would …. I would desire you. It's as if you and I, we were made to join together."

"We were," he replied softly.

She looked down, blinking away tears. "I just, it frightens me what we had might not be there anymore. It could be changing for good."

"I know this is scary," he whispered. "But we're gonna face this together."

"But would you still be happy married to me if making love wasn't very good anymore?"

"Michaela, that ain't the reason I married ya. I married ya because you're my partner in everything I do. I want you by my side the rest of my life."

"But you were happy it was so good," she whispered shyly.

"Sure, course I was. Makin' love's always been real good." He gently tickled her cheek. "You were a real fast learner."

"Sully," she protested softly.

"Michaela, what I'm tryin' to tell ya is it's just one part of our marriage. Course I'd miss it, but it don't mean I feel any different about ya. We can still support each other and find other ways to show each other we care about each other. Michaela, I love you and I'm gonna make things work between us no matter what happens."

Tears welled in her eyes and she hugged him again.

"Let's not worry too much just yet," he said reassuringly. "Andrew's right, we gotta be patient. I think we'll figure this out if we just give it some time."

She nodded and sighed as he rocked her. Suddenly he looked up, sniffing the air.

"What's that smell?" he asked. "I think somethin's burnin'."

"The Cornish hens!" she exclaimed, spinning around and grabbing a towel off the counter.

"Cornish hens?" he repeated.

She opened the oven door and dark smoked bellowed out. Sully grabbed another towel and fanned it away as she coughed and pulled out a roasting pan.

"What are those?" Sully asked, gazing distrustfully at two small birds charred and smoking. "They look like baby chicks."

"They're not baby chicks," she protested. "Cornish hens are a delicacy. We have them in Boston all the time."

"Still look like chicks to me," he said skeptically.

"Well, they've very burned chicks then," she said dismally, dropping the towel on the counter.

"That's all right, I wasn't that hungry anyway. Hey, you know somethin' that I don't think is ever gonna change?"

"What?" she murmured.

"Your cookin'."

She chuckled and put her arm around him, giving him a soft kiss.

"Wanna go over to the meadow and play cricket, Sam?" Byron asked. "Our gran'pa taught us."

"Come on, Sam. Come play," Katie encouraged.

Samantha was sitting on the porch of the boarding house, arms wrapped around her legs dejectedly.

"What's wrong?" Katie asked.

"Nothing. It's just…it's not working."

"What's not working?" Red Eagle asked.

"All the flowers and things. I don't think it's working. My mama and papa still hate each other. They still fight."

Katie crouched beside her and patted her arm. "My mama and papa fight too, sometimes."

"Don't worry. We just gotta keep trying," Byron said.

"Sometimes it takes a long time," Red Eagle explained helpfully. "It took Brian a real long time to marry his friend Sarah. They're still not married!"

"That's different," she muttered.

"Hey, I know! I got it!" Byron exclaimed.

"What?" Samantha asked.

"They need time to themselves. Just like our ma and pa. They always wanna be alone and have supper. Your folks could have supper at the café."

"Yeah. A special supper," Katie added.

"Good idea!" Red Eagle said. "What about Friday?"

Samantha looked up at them hopefully. "Think that'll work?"

"Yeah, it'll work. Come on," Byron said as he spun around and jogged toward the telegraph office.

"Hey, Mr. Bing," Byron said as the children walked into the telegraph office.

"Oh, hey, kids," Horace replied as he stamped some letters. "What are you up to?"

Byron nudged Samantha in the arm.

"Papa?" she murmured.

"Yeah? What is it, honey?" he replied, crouching down and picking up a package.

"Well, see, Mama wants to meet you at the café."

"She does?" he replied with confusion. "Why?"

"She wants to have supper with you," Byron spoke up.

"Now?" he blurted.

"Tomorrow. At six. She told us to tell you," Red Eagle added. He reached his hand behind his back and crossed his fingers.

"She did?" He paused a long moment, brow wrinkled. "Oh, well, all right. I'll be there."

"Yea!" Samantha exclaimed. "I mean, I'll tell her. Gotta go. Bye, Papa."

"Bye, Mr. Bing," Katie said.

The children quickly ran out and Horace watched them go with raised eyebrows. "Oh. Bye," he called.

"I don't know about this," Katie murmured as they headed to the café. "Aren't we telling a lie?"

"I feel bad about lying," Samantha added.

"It's not really lying," Byron said. "Well, maybe sorta."

"Just tell her your papa wants to have supper," Red Eagle said. "That's not lying."

"Yeah, that's not lying. He does," Byron spoke up.

"You sure?" Samantha asked.

"We're sure," Byron said resolutely.

"All right," she said with a sigh as they headed into the café and spotted Myra drinking coffee with Elizabeth.

"Children, there you are," Elizabeth called. Eliza was cradled in her lap and Elizabeth was dabbing at her tiny nose with a handkerchief. "You missed it. Your sister just made the sweetest face when she sneezed."

"She stuck out her tongue and wrinkled up her nose," Myra added.

"She always makes funny faces," Byron said, crouching down and kissing her. "Hey, Eliza. Hey. Did you make a funny face again?"

"What are you children doing?" Myra asked curiously.

"Nothing," Byron blurted.

"Nothing," Red Eagle added.

Samantha clutched Myra's arm. "Papa wants me to tell you something, Mama," she began.

"He does? What?" she asked.

"He wants to meet you here at the café for supper tomorrow."

"At six. Don't be late," Red Eagle said.

"Wear your prettiest dress," Byron added. "And put some perfume on like my mama does."

Myra chuckled. "Why would Horace want to meet me for supper? What's the occasion?" She glanced at Elizabeth with raised eyebrows.

Katie shrugged innocently. "We don't know. Maybe he thinks you're special."

"Yeah, special," Byron added.

Myra smiled shyly. "Well, all right. Tell him I'll see him then."

Samantha beamed and hugged her.

Michaela shifted uncomfortably again as Sully laid beside her and kissed her deeply. He was running his hand up and down her thigh and had been fully aroused for some time. But as usual he put her needs first and was being incredibly patient while he gave every inch of her body his doting attention.

He rubbed her arm and she shivered under his touch. "Michaela, you're shakin'."

"I'm sorry. I'm thinking too hard about this."

"Don't think," he said.

"That's not in my nature," she replied with a little twinkle in her eyes.

He gently kissed her lips. "We'll take it real easy all right?" he whispered. "Real slow and gentle. Ya don't gotta think. Just leave it to me."

She nodded and held onto his back as he kissed and suckled at her neck while stroking her bottom sensually with both hands. Finally he shifted to lie across her and glanced down. She instinctively wanted to draw her legs together and protect herself, but she forced herself to stay calm and keep everything relaxed.

"Don't hold your breath," he instructed tenderly. "Keep breathin'."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, slowly letting out her breath. "Wait. Wait, not yet."

He paused a moment, watching her face while she took a few deep breaths.

"All right," she whispered. "All right."

"I'm just gonna do this real, real easy. All right?"

She nodded and kept breathing in and out as he slowly lowered himself into her. Suddenly her breath caught and she cringed.

He squeezed her shoulder sympathetically. "Michaela, it hurt?"

She nodded vehemently, clutching his shoulder.

"Ya want me to stop? Tell me what ya want."

"No, let's keep trying," she instructed breathlessly. "Keep trying."

He carefully shifted to slip himself even deeper inside her, watching her intently.

She groaned softly. "All right. All right, it hurts. Let's stop." She suddenly panicked. "Sully, it hurts, it hurts. Stop. Stop, stop."

He immediately withdrew. "All right, all right. We're stoppin'. It's over."

"Oh, it hurts so much," she murmured tearfully, closing her eyes. "I can't."

He caressed her cheek sympathetically. "What's it feel like? I don't know why this is happening. I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's all right. Shh. We just need to give it a little more time."

"We've given it weeks. It still doesn't feel any better."

"Ya sure ya don't got some kind of injury when ya had the baby? Maybe somethin' deep inside?"

"I don't think so. Neither does Andrew." Her lip trembled. "I just don't know what's wrong. I'm sorry, Sully."

"Shh, don't be sorry. It's gonna be all right. Hey, ya wanna just kiss some?"

She sniffled. "Are you sure?"

"Course I am. I love kissin' ya," he said with a soft smile.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind for our special evening," she murmured.

"It's all right. I still had a good time," he replied. He caressed her cheek. "Come 'ere."

She cuddled up close to him, pressed her lips to his and wrapped her arms tightly around his back.

"Time to go," Michaela said as she locked the clinic door, her jacket over one arm and the baby in the other.

Red Eagle bounced a large rubber ball to Samantha on the porch. "Can we stay in town, Ma?" he asked. "Please?"

She spun around. "Oh, I don't know about that, sweetheart. It's getting late and you have homework, don't you?"

"Not a lot," Katie said, catching the ball and bouncing it back to Samantha. "Besides, it's Friday. We have two days to do it."

"How are you going to get home?" Michaela asked skeptically.

"We'll walk," Byron said, standing up on her bench to be eye level with her. "It's not far. We've done it before."

"But all by yourself? You've never done that before."

"No, Ma, we won't be by ourselves," Byron said with a giggle. "They'll be three of us!"

"Please, Mama?" Katie implored. "We want to stay in town and play with Samantha. We'll be real good."

"We'll be good, Dr. Mike," Samantha added. "All of us."

Michaela thought it over a moment as she shifted the baby to her other shoulder. The children weren't so little and helpless anymore, as much as she missed those days. Katie was almost nine years old, and all of them were becoming more independent. When Brian was that age he was walking to and from town on his own and to friends' houses without any trouble. She supposed it was time she allow the children a little more freedom, even if she hated to let go of them.

"All right, you can stay in town," she replied. "But I want you to be home by six o'clock, before it gets dark. That means you need to start walking home well before then. Do you understand?"

"Six o'clock! We promise!" Katie replied.

"Thanks, Mama!" Red Eagle cried.

She smiled and gave him a hug. "Behave," she said wryly.

"We will!" Byron shouted, jumping down from the bench as she climbed up into the wagon. "See ya, Mama."

She chuckled and waved at them. "See you."

"Hey, Miss Grace," Byron called as the children filed into the café.

Grace closed a pot of stew and put her towel aside, giving him a hug. "You children are in town late today. Where's your ma and pa?"

"They're at home. We're here all by ourselves," Red Eagle said.

"Yeah. We're big kids now," Byron added proudly. He eyed a pie sitting on the table doused with cinnamon and waiting to be put into the oven. "Can we have an apple slice?

"Oh, I s'pose," she said with a chuckle. "Just one."

The four children each grabbed an apple slice and Grace chuckled and picked up a pot of coffee.

"Well, you wanna help me tend to my customers?"

"Yeah, could we?" Katie replied.

Grace handed Samantha and Katie a few mugs. "Follow me."

"You'd be surprised, you can use just about any type of log as long as it's straight," Kirk said as he dug into his stew at a table for two in the center of the café. Danielle was eating some crackers in the highchair next to him and Faye was across from him. He took another large bite of stew. "Conifers are the best though, durable but not too heavy."

Faye picked at her stew and heaved a sigh.

"You know. Conifers, honey. Pine, fir, spruce," he said.

"I know what conifers are," she muttered.

"Sapwood, now that's something you oughta stay away from. Gets infected too easily with fungus. You'd have to tear down the whole building." He paused a long moment and watched Faye stare at her plate dejectedly. "Faye? What's wrong?"

"Kirk, I can't listen to you prattle on like this all the time about construction work. It puts me to sleep."

"Prattle on. Honey, you never said I was prattlin' on before."

"Well, I'm sayin' it now."

"Sorry. Just stop me next time I'm borin' ya this much. I'll keep my mouth shut," he muttered.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean that. I just…I don't feel good. I feel funny. Hot."

"Oh. Honey, I'm sorry. You wanna move to a table in the shade?"

"No, you just finish up and let's head home."

"Yeah, sure thing," he said as he shoveled stew a little more quickly into his mouth.

"Kirk, Faye!" Byron called, jogging over to them with Red Eagle. "Want some dessert?"

Faye smiled faintly. "Hey, pumpkin. Where's your ma?"

"Home. We're big kids now. We're helping out Miss Grace."

"Afraid we're gonna pass on dessert today," Kirk said as he scraped up the last of his stew. "We're headin' home in a minute."

"And I suppose that's my fault," Faye said grumpily.

Kirk eyed her in confusion. "No, honey. No, I didn't say that."

"If you want dessert I'll wait," she replied, crossing her arms petulantly. "Don't worry about me. I'll just sit here and feel funny while you enjoy your pie. Take your time."

"Honey, no, that's all right," he said desperately. "I don't want dessert. I hate dessert."

Byron's face suddenly lit up. He nudged Red Eagle. "I got an idea!" he whispered.

"What?" Red Eagle whispered back.

"Kirk, you play the fiddle, right?" Byron asked.

"Well, course I do. Why?"

"Samantha's ma and pa are gonna have supper here tonight," Byron explained. "A special supper. All alone."

"Yeah. They're gettin' married again," Red Eagle explained.

"They are?" Faye blurted.

"They are?" Kirk echoed. "I didn't know that."

"Yep, they're falling in love," Byron explained. "And Samantha's gonna move back to Colorado Springs."

Danielle pointed at the boys happily. "Ba!" she shouted.

Faye shared a perplexed look with her husband. "Married? Well, that's good news, isn't it, honey?" She picked up a napkin and wiped the baby's hands and face.

"Yeah, sure. That's great news."

"Maybe you could play them pretty music," Byron said. "To make them fall in love more. You know, when they eat supper."

Kirk smiled. "You want me to play music while they eat? What is this, the big city?"

"Yeah. All the restaurants we went to in Boston had fiddles," Red Eagle said. "And they played lots of pretty music for us."

Byron wrinkled his brow. "Mama calls it … ro …. ro-ma …. what's it called when you fall in love?"

"Romantic?" Faye said with a wry smile. She stood and lifted the baby out of her high chair.

"Yeah, that's it! Romantic!" he exclaimed.

"Well, I reckon I could. I'd have to run home and get my fiddle," Kirk said. "And take Faye home first. She's feelin' poorly."

"I said I'm feelin' funny, not poorly," Faye retorted.

"Oh. Well, what's the difference, honey?" he said. "What time's this special supper, kids?"

"Six o'clock," Byron said.

"I'll be there. And my fiddle, too!"

"Six weeks old, I can't believe it," Michaela said as she lifted Eliza out of her cradle.

Eliza waved her arms and gurgled, staring up at Michaela contentedly.

"She's a talkative baby. I love those little sounds she makes," Elizabeth said with a chuckle.

"I love these little toes," Michaela said, kissing the baby's foot. "Yes, Mama does."

The baby gurgled and grunted more vigorously in response.

Sully opened the door and put his toolbox on the table. "House is awful quiet. Where are the kids?"

Michaela turned to face him. "Still in town. I told them they could stay for a little while and play with Samantha."

He walked to her and picked up the baby. "Hey, sweet girl. How was your day?"

"Aren't you at all surprised?" Michaela said.

He smoothed the baby's hair. "About what?"

"I mean, that I let them stay in town by themselves."

He shrugged. "They're old enough."

"You think so?" she said hesitantly. "Now I'm not so sure."

"Oh, of course they're old enough," Elizabeth said dismissively. "I let you skip around all over Beacon Hill at that age with David and Jimmy."

"Who's this Jimmy?" Sully asked skeptically. "Another of your many beaus?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Don't worry, Sully. Not at all."

She chuckled. "No, believe me. He was practically born a clown."

"Oh, good," he replied. He cuddled the baby close. "Papa doesn't like to hear about all of Mama's beaus."

"Don't worry. There weren't very many," Elizabeth said. "Not compared to your sisters and all the gentlemen always knocking on the door for them. I'm afraid you were not very popular."

"Mother, that's not true. I had some callers," Michaela said defensively.

"Well, if you count you and your father's patients you had lots of people calling then," she said.

Sully chuckled and kissed her. "I better start the chores. Supper ready soon?"

"Yes, half an hour," Michaela replied, taking the baby back from him. "The children should be home just in time."

Dorothy clutched a few bundles of flowers as she and William strolled into the little graveyard next to the church.

"The railroad inspector comes next week," William explained. "As soon as he approves the building we all get paid."

"And then what will do you?" Dorothy asked quietly.

"Miss Myra and Samantha are leaving shortly after. I'll be going home with them."

"You could stay on longer, William," she said. "I for one don't want to see you go so soon."

He sighed. "Well, I think it's probably better I leave. It's what Sully prefers."

They reached Abigail and Hanna's markers and Dorothy laid one of the bundle of flowers down. "Abigail was always a happy young girl. But I remember when she met Sully, she lit up like never before. Oh, and when she found out they had a baby on the way? The two of them both were just as thrilled as they could be."

"Hanna," William whispered, gently touching his fingers to the cross. He looked up solemnly. "And my grandson? Where is he?"

Dorothy led him a few yards away to Jack's marker. She put the other bundle of flowers down.

"So much sadness," William whispered. "I never wished to add to the burdens that Sully already carries."

Dorothy put her arm around him reassuringly. "It's getting dark. Let's head back."

"What if he doesn't come?" Samantha asked as the children hid behind some bushes just outside the café and watched the table where Myra was sitting. She was sipping some coffee and watching the entrance impatiently.

"He'll come," Red Eagle said reassuringly. "He said he would."

"There he is!" Katie suddenly screeched as Horace walked into the café.

"Shh!" Byron scolded.

She covered her mouth. "Sorry."

"He came!" Samantha whispered. "Papa!"

Horace spotted Myra and approached her, removing his hat and placing it on the table.

"Evening, Horace," she said with a soft smile.

He pulled out a chair. "Sorry I'm late. Important telegram just came in from the railroad and I had to take it down."

"That's fine. I ordered the special for us. Roast turkey. That all right?"

"Sure, sure." He rested his hands on the table and cleared his throat. "Well …. how are things?"

"Good. How are things with you?" she replied awkwardly.

"Fine." He paused. "It's been real good to spend time with Sam. She's sure growin' up fast."

"Oh, I know. I can't believe it."

Grace carried over two steaming plates. "Here we go, folks," she said. "Enjoy."

"Thank you, Grace," Myra said as she put her napkin in her lap.

Horace picked up his knife and fork and cut his turkey. They ate in awkward silence for a long moment until Myra put down her utensils and looked up at him.

"Horace? I'm sorry I didn't tell you about John sooner. That was a big mistake."

He slowed his chewing.

She sighed. "It's just, .things had only just started getting better between you and me. We were gettin' along so well and I know how happy that makes Samantha when we don’t fight. I didn't want to spoil it all by telling you I was engaged."

"That's not it. Myra, I want you to move on. I think we both should. I want you to get married again if that's what you want."

"You do?" she murmured.

"I guess I'm just…I'm worried about Samantha."

"Horace, I promise you John's going to take good care of us. He and Sam get along real well."

"That's just it. I’m afraid she …. "

"What?" she prompted.

"Afraid she might forget about me once she gets a new pa. Maybe she won't want to visit her real pa anymore."

She rested her hands in her lap. "Oh, Horace. Do you know how much our little girl loves you? She talks about you all the time. And every night she says goodnight to you and blows you a kiss. No one can replace you in her eyes. I'm only sorry I haven't brought her out here to visit more often."

"I want to be in her life, Myra. I want to do more for her. She's the best thing that ever happened to me and I want to do all I can to see to it she knows that."

"You know, Dr. Mike said she'd help out if I wanted to send Sam out here on her own. Maybe she could spend the summer here next year. She'll be a big girl by then. Ten years old. Old enough to ride a train by herself."

"The whole summer? Myra that'd be … that'd be perfect."

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Good, let's plan on it."

"Myra, I appreciate you inviting me out like this. I think it's good we have time alone to talk about these things from time to time."

"Me invite you? I didn't invite you. You invited me, Horace."

"No, I didn't. The children said you wanted to meet me here."

"No, Horace. The children said you wanted to meet me!" She stopped short. "Wait a minute. You don't think they … ?"

"What?"

"I think the children arranged this supper, Horace."

"But why?"

"I have no idea. Horace, was that you givin' me all those flowers and chocolates? And that bath?"

"Bath?" he blurted. "Chocolates?"

Kirk walked over with his violin. "Care for some music, folks?" He raised his violin under his chin and began playing a slow ballad.

Horace and Myra exchanged puzzled glances.

"Where are the children anyway?" Myra asked.

"I don't know. I thought Samantha was with you."

"Horace, why would you think she was with me if I'm here at the café with you?!"

"It's working!" Samantha whispered. "Look, it's working. They're holding hands! They're talking!"

"We did it!" Byron cried. "They're in love again!"

"They're in love!" Red Eagle breathed.

William came up behind the children, Dorothy on his arm, and tapped Samantha on the shoulder.

"Children, what are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Gran'pa, Miss Dorothy," Byron choked, spinning around guiltily. "What're you doin' here?"

"We were taking an evening walk and we saw the bushes moving," William explained.

"Are you hiding from someone?" Dorothy asked.

"No. Nobody," Samantha blurted.

William glanced inside the café and spotted Horace and Myra enjoying their meal. "Oh, you're not having supper with your parents?"

"No. Miss Grace already fed all of us," Samantha explained.

"It's late and it's getting cold. I think you should head home now, don't you?"

"What time is it?" Katie asked.

He glanced up at the sky. "Oh, I'd say about quarter past seven."

"Seven!" Katie exclaimed. "Oh, no!"

"We're in trouble," Red Eagle said. "Big trouble. We were supposed to be home at six."

William grabbed Byron's hand. "I'll drive you home, how's that?"

"And I'll walk you over to the boarding house, Samantha," Dorothy offered.

"Yes, you run along with Miss Dorothy," William said.

"All right, Will. See you later."

"Bye, Sam," Katie said as she watched Dorothy and her friend head down the street.

"Thanks, Gran'pa," Byron said, giving him a little hug.

"Oh, of course," he replied, smoothing his hair lovingly.

Michaela glanced at the clock again and paced worriedly in front of the fireplace. Sully was leaning against the dining room table and Elizabeth was holding the baby in one of the chairs. The plates were set around the table and supper was dished out, cold and uneaten.

"I never should have let them stay in town alone," Michaela said restlessly. "I knew this was a bad idea. What was I thinking?"

"Yes, what were you thinking anyway? I told you so," Elizabeth said.

"Probably just lost track of time. You know how kids are," Sully said reassuringly.

She looked out the window. "Sully, now it's dark. They could lose their way on the walk home."

"Oh, dear," Elizabeth murmured. "Sully, maybe you should go look for them. I think it's been long enough."

Sully hadn't been worried until both the women became so distressed. He was beginning to wonder if they were right and something might have happened to the children. "I'll saddle the horses," he said, walking toward the door and grabbing his jacket. Just as he opened the door William pulled up with the children.

Michaela raced to the door when she heard the wagon, Elizabeth following her.

"Oh, they aren't leaving their rooms for a year," Michaela said angrily. "Byron, Katie, Red Eagle!" she shouted, clamoring down the porch steps and hurrying toward the back of the wagon. "Are you all right? Where were you? What happened? I was worried sick!" she exclaimed, giving them a hand down from the back of the wagon..

Sully walked briskly up to William, narrowing his eyes angrily. "What were you doin' with the kids? Where'd you take 'em?"

"Sully, wait, let me explain-" he began, climbing down from the wagon.

"We didn't know where they were for more than two hours!" Sully retorted. He grabbed his collar angrily. "You stay away from 'em!"

"Papa! No!" Byron cried. "It wasn't him!"

"He just brought us home, Papa!" Katie said. "It was our fault we were late!"

"I was just helping them get home, Sully," William said quietly. "I wasn't with them until just now."

Sully slowly released his hold, realizing his error. He backed up and looked at the children, swallowing hard. "Where were ya?" he asked quietly.

Katie bent her head guiltily and let out a quiet sob. "Please, Papa. We're sorry."

"We were just in town," Red Eagle said helplessly.

"Doing what?" Michaela demanded. "I told you to be home by six! Do you realize what time it is? It's half past eight!"

Byron bent his head. "We didn't have a watch."

"No excuse, young man," Michaela replied. "You should have asked someone for the time." She pointed at the door. "Get inside immediately. Go up to your rooms."

The children trudged inside past Elizabeth.

"Thank God they're all right," Michaela said, letting out a sigh. She grasped William's hand. "Thank you for bringing them home. Thank you so much, William."

"Don't be too hard on them. They were hanging their heads the whole drive here," he replied, squeezing her hand and climbing back up onto the seat. He grabbed the reins and gave them a slap, heading out toward the road.

"That was kind of him to do that," Michaela murmured, glancing at Sully.

Sully didn't reply. He nodded toward the door. "We're gonna need to punish 'em."

"Yes, I know," she replied.

"Come on, let's get it over with," he replied, putting his arm around her.

The children were in their nightclothes and lined up in the dining room in front of the adults, all of them looking terribly guilty.

"I just don't understand what you could have possibly been doing all this time," Michaela said. "Or where your heads were."

"You scared your ma, all of us," Sully added. "We thought somethin' happened to ya."

"Did you stop and think for a moment about how we would feel when you didn’t come home?" Elizabeth demanded.

Katie reached her hand up and swiped away a small tear.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourselves?" Michaela demanded.

"It's a secret," Byron said very quietly.

"What?" Michaela replied.

"It's a secret, Mama," he said a little louder.

"Well, I've about had it with all this secrecy. I want it to stop." She folded her arms crossly. "No friends for the rest of the week. No baseball and no going into town except for school and church."

"No friends?" Red Eagle murmured. "Not even Samantha?"

"Not even Samantha. I want you to come straight home from school and do your homework and your chores. And when you're done with that you can sit in your rooms quietly. Do you understand?"

They nodded solemnly.

"And you're gonna apologize to your ma," Sully added. "Right now."

Red Eagle sniffled. "I'm sorry, Ma."

"Sorry," Byron echoed sadly. "Sorry, Ma."

Katie frowned. "I'm sorry, Mommy."

Michaela sighed and stepped close to them, drawing them into a gentle hug. "All right. The important thing is you're home safe and sound. Go up to bed and go to sleep."

Sully drew Michaela to his bare chest and tenderly stroked her back. She was curled up against him, silently pondering the events of the past few hours.

"Michaela, we did the right thing," he said at last.

"I know. It's just I hate punishing them. They looked so heartbroken."

"Only way they're gonna learn."

"Perhaps I overreacted in the heat of the moment. Perhaps two or three days of punishment would be better."

"No ya don't. Don't give in just cause they gave ya some sad faces."

She chuckled softly. "Those sad faces are my undoing."

He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her brow. "Yeah, me too sometimes."

"I wish I knew what they've been up to all this time. It's all so mysterious."

"I'm startin' to wonder too," he admitted.

"You? You who never meddles in anyone's business, ever?" she said teasingly. "You said let them have their secret. Just leave them be. Remember?"

"Well, I didn't know it was gonna go on this long," he said defensively.

She giggled and shifted up to kiss him. "Mm. We should get some sleep. I love you."

"I love you." He caressed her cheek. "Hey, ya know somethin'? You're a good ma. You're a real good ma, Michaela."

She smiled softly. "You know something? We make a good team."

He gave her another soft kiss and drew her all the closer, closing his eyes.

Sarah walked through the open doorframe of their new house and smiled as she spotted Brian seated on a stool writing something with a pencil.

"Look at you hard at work," she said teasingly. "I thought you were sanding the floors today."

He chuckled. "I'm takin' a break if that's all right with you."

She came to his side and gave him a sweet kiss. "I can't believe how good it's comin' along. It's almost ready for moving in day."

"Yeah, I guess it is," he replied, glancing up at the ceiling. Their little house was going to be a wonderful start for them. It had a large kitchen, a sitting room with a cozy hearth and a little bedroom in the back. He could always add on when they had children, but they both wanted to wait at least a few years for that. And by that time maybe they could afford a bigger piece of land and he could build a larger house. But for now what he had built was going to suit all their current needs nicely.

She gave him another soft kiss. "To think you're making this all by yourself. I'm marrying a very talented man."

He smiled at her appreciatively and went back to his letter.

She rubbed his back, glancing at the paper. "What's that?"

He glanced up hesitantly. "Just writin' back to my pa. Ethan. Lettin' him know I'm lookin' forward to seein' him."

She stepped back. "Oh."

He sighed, dreading what he had to tell her. "Sarah, I been thinkin'. I'm gonna ask him if he'll be a groomsman."

"What? We have groomsmen. Stephen and Kirk."

"Yeah, I know. But I thought three won’t be too many."

"I don't believe this. I just don't believe it," she muttered, shaking her head. "No, this'll never work. I don't want him to be a groomsman."

"Sarah, I didn't tell you who your bridesmaids could be. I thought this was my decision."

"Why, is there somebody you object to?"

He stood, putting the letter on the stool. "No, and even if I did I wouldn't say anythin'. You got a right to have who ya want up there. I'm just wonderin' when this became your weddin' and not our weddin'."

She looked up at him angrily. "Brian, I've had about all of this I can take. You know full well I didn't want him at the wedding in the first place, let alone in the wedding party. This isn't just about me. You know how many other people this is gonna upset? What about Matthew? Is he even gonna wanna be your best man if Mr. Cooper shows up?"

He hesitated. "Course he will."

"I thought he hated him. And what about your ma and pa, after the way he tried to take you and Colleen away from them? How they gonna feel? And your little brothers and sisters, when I think of the kind of example that man is settin' for them it makes me ill."

"This is our day, not theirs," he said. "They're just gonna have to get used to it."

"Brian, don't you see? He doesn't care about us. I know he doesn't. He cares about his business in San Francisco and making money. He's a selfish man who's done nothin' but let you down your whole life, and he don't deserve to stand up with you on your weddin' day."

"It's my decision, all right?" he said angrily, pointing his finger at his chest. "I'm makin' this decision!"

She swallowed hard. "Maybe everybody was right. We ain't ready to get married yet."

"What?" he breathed.

"You do this, and the wedding's off," she whispered.

He stared back at her in shock. "Sarah," he murmured, shaking his head.

Tears welled in her eyes. "I mean it, Brian." She walked out decisively and quickly climbed up into her buggy.

Brian jogged after her. "Sarah, wait!" he called desperately.

She ignored him and slapped the reins.

"Hold your arms out, sweetheart," Michaela instructed. "Let me measure." Byron was standing on one of the dining room table chairs wearing a new suit vest and white starched shirt that had several pins in it. Michaela had her sewing basket on the table, a pattern and a notebook and pencil. She stretched her tape measure down one of his arms and then wrote down the measurement. Elizabeth was working on the hem of Katie's flower girl dress at the other end of the table.

Byron waved his arms like a soaring bird and made a whooshing sound. Sully walked into the room from the kitchen and chuckled at his antics.

"You a hawk?" he asked teasingly.

"No. Eagle," he replied.

Sully tickled his chest, sending him into fits of giggles. "You're a ticklish eagle then!"

"Sully, stop. I'm trying to do this," Michaela scolded. "Byron, stand still or you're going to stick yourself."

"Sorry, Ma," Sully said, giving Michaela's cheek a sweet kiss and walking to the sitting room where he picked up the Gazette.

She eyed him wryly and then measured Byron's leg. "My goodness, young man. We're going to have to let these trousers down before the wedding. You've grown half an inch!"

He sighed. "Are we almost done? This is boring."

"All right, all right. We're done," she replied. "Assuming your other leg is the same length as this one."

He looked down. "Yeah, I think so. Don't worry." Michaela helped him off with the vest and shirt and then he jumped down, grabbing his old shirt off the table.

Suddenly Brian opened the door and silently hung up his hat and jacket.

"Brian," Sully said.

"Brian, you're home!" Katie called.

"Brian, there you are," Michaela said. "Perfect timing. We can put the final touches on your suit tonight. We were just measuring the boys' ring bearer suits."

"I appreciate what you're doin', Ma, but I ain't gonna be needin' that suit."

She lowered her tape measure. "What are you talking about?"

He swallowed hard. "The wedding's off," he murmured.

"What?" Elizabeth exclaimed. "No, it can't be off. All my plans!"

"Oh, sweetheart. What happened?" Michaela asked.

"Nothin'. We just ain't ready to be married yet, that's all. I'm real sorry about all the work you been puttin' into the ceremony." He sighed. "I'm gonna head up to bed. I'm real tired."

"Of course. Do you want me to make you some tea?" Michaela replied.

"No, that's all right. Night, everybody."

"Night, son," Sully called softly.

Michaela watched him head upstairs, then sunk into a chair. "What was that about?"

"Oh, I'm sure it's just a little misunderstanding," Elizabeth said. "They'll change their minds."

Sully joined them at the table. "I don't know. He looked awful upset."

"Well, they have to change their minds," Elizabeth said. "I've already ordered their wedding present!"

"Sully, why don’t you go up and talk to him," Michaela said worriedly.

He rested his hand on her shoulder. "Let's let him rest tonight, give him some time. We'll talk to him when he's ready."

"His light's still on," Michaela said restlessly as she entered the bedroom and shut the door.

"So?" Sully replied. He was leaning over the bed and had Eliza on her back, and was tenderly but firmly massaging her legs from her thighs down to her little toes. The baby stared back up at him intensely and cooed and gurgled.

"So, he's still up. Perhaps you should talk to him. Please?"

"It's late, Michaela. Let's leave him be tonight. He needs to sleep on this."

"I suppose." She approached the bed. "Look how much she's enjoying that. She looks so relaxed and peaceful."

He ran his hand slowly down the baby's back, gently pushing on her tiny muscles. "Yeah, I think it feels real good to her. She's been starin' at me this whole time."

"I'm not surprised. Your massages always feel good to her ma," she whispered lovingly.

"Why don't ya lie down, take off your nightgown," he suggested softly. "I'll rub your back next."

She shyly sat down and slipped out of her bathrobe as he picked up the baby, kissed her cheek a few times and placed her in her crib for the night. He watched as she unbuttoned her nightgown and slipped it over her head.

"Here, get on your belly," he instructed as he picked up the bottle of lavender oil and rubbed some of it onto his palms. Then he pressed his hands to Michaela's shoulders and squeezed and kneaded them deeply.

"Mmm, that's good," she murmured, closing her eyes.

"You all right lyin' on your stomach?" he asked. "Your breasts hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," she said, smiling up at him softly. He had always been so in tune with her every need, and his doting attention was especially helpful now that they had a new baby in the house. No matter how hectic things got with caring for Eliza, he always made time to take care of Michaela and make sure she was comfortable.

"I wouldn't worry too much," he remarked. "Sometimes a man just needs a little time by himself to think things out when it comes to settlin' down with the woman he loves."

"Is that what you did before we were married?" she asked.

"Sure. I took a lotta time to myself before I married ya."

"Oh. I didn't realize you had such doubts," she replied, opening her eyes and glancing at him.

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her shoulder. "Course not. But it was good for me to do some thinkin', prepare myself for bein' a good husband, buildin' a good marriage with ya." He climbed onto the bed and straddled her waist, massaging her all the deeper.

"Mm, that feels good," she murmured.

"Not too hard, is it?" he replied.

"No, just perfect." She sighed blissfully. "Then you think this'll pass? They'll still get married?"

He ran his hands down her spine and working his fingers into her lower back muscles. "There was a time when hearin' the weddin' was off woulda been the best news for you."

"I know I wasn't too fond of the idea of them getting married at first," Michaela admitted. "But I've come to realize they've grown into a very mature young couple. They put off their entire wedding because I was on bed rest. And they went to marriage counseling with the Reverend. It sounds like they were doing everything possible to succeed at this and I've been very impressed." She sighed softly. "He loves her, Sully. They're meant to be together."

He leaned down and moved her hair off her neck to kiss her. "Yeah, I know. And if it's meant to be, sooner or later they'll end up together. Just like you and me." He kissed one shoulder, then the other. Then he slid his hand down her back to caress her backside.

She shifted a little uncomfortably and glanced up at him. "Sully?"

He edged down across her and gave her lips a few wet kisses. "Shh, just relax."

She swallowed hard as he planted soft kisses on the back of her neck. A massage in the past surely would have led to making love, and she worried that was what was happening now. Sully never had been very good at keeping things from escalating once he started kissing and touching her like this.

"Sully, I know, it's just I think we should give this some more time," she protested softly. "We should wait awhile before we try again."

He ran his fingers down her arm and grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. "Yeah, I know. We'll give it time."

She sighed with relief. "Thank you," she whispered.

He rested his weight across her back and gave her ear some gentle, restrained kisses. "Ya know, sometimes I just like feelin' your skin, feelin' ya pressed up to me. Every inch of ya is so soft."

"You're not so soft," she whispered back wryly. "All I can feel is all that chest hair against my back."

"You like my chest hair," he said suggestively.

"Yes, I do," she admitted with a shy giggle.

He chuckled softly and gave her ear a soft, playful nip with his lips, then shifted over to lie beside her. "Michaela, don't worry about Brian," he said reassuringly, caressing her cheek. "They'll work it out."

"I hope so," she replied. "Or we're going to have one very heartbroken young man on our hands."

"What was your quarrel about?" Elizabeth demanded as the family gathered at the breakfast table.

Brian poured himself a cup of coffee. "Never said we had a quarrel."

"Was it about your house? She doesn't like it?" Elizabeth probed.

"No," Brian replied. "She likes it just fine."

"Good, she'd better. You did a wonderful job on it."

"Mother, leave him be," Michaela scolded gently as she dished up some oatmeal into bowls and handed them to the children.

"Josef and I used to quarrel like cats and dogs. Especially about the wedding," Elizabeth went on. "We were both Irish. It's to be expected. It didn't mean we weren't meant to be married."

"I ain't Irish," Brian murmured.

"Am I Irish, Gran'ma?" Byron spoke up.

"Yes, of course," Elizabeth said. "You're half Irish and half English. Quite a combination."

"Oh," he replied pensively. "What about American?"

"You're that, too, sweetheart," Michaela said, putting a bowl of oatmeal in front of him.

"Where's Irish? I mean Ireland?" Red Eagle spoke up, stirring his oatmeal. "I wanna go there someday."

"Ireland is next to England," Michaela explained.

"It is about the wedding!" Elizabeth exclaimed suddenly. "She doesn't like my plans! I knew it! I knew she was just pretending to like everything in front of me when really she's hated it all along."

"Huh?" Brian replied blankly.

"Brian, are you never getting married ever?" Katie spoke up curiously. "I really wanted to be the flower girl. What about the dress Mama made for me?"

"Sorry, Kate," Brian whispered. "I'm sorry we had to disappoint everybody."

"Sweetheart, don't worry about us," Michaela said. "Just sort this all out and don't worry about anything else."

"Nothin' to sort out, Ma," he replied. "It's over." He abruptly stood up and grabbed his jacket off the coat rack, heading outside.

"Mother, you didn't have to badger him like that," Michaela scolded.

"Badger him! I did no such thing!"

"Ya did ask him a lot of questions," Sully admitted, taking a sip of coffee.

"Well, if I didn't no one would," she protested. "I can't believe you two! You're just going to stand by and let this happen!"

Michaela walked to the door and took down her shawl.

"Michaela," Sully called in caution.

"I'll be right back," she said, opening the door and shutting it behind her.

Brian was untying Taffy from the hitching post and securing the rope to her saddle.

"Brian," Michaela called.

He shook his head. "Ma, I'm sorry, I just…I can't talk about this right now." He had to work as hard as he could to keep a straight face in front of her and not let on how upset he was.

"I know. That's all right. You don't have to talk about it," she replied. "I just wanted you to know Sully and I are here for you. We'll support you in whatever you decide to do."

He nodded appreciatively.

She gave his arm a gentle pat. "Have a good day at the Gazette."

He mounted his horse and she turned and headed back up the stairs.

"Ma, wait," he called.

She turned back around.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Brian, just…don't let something you've worked so hard to build slip away so easily."

"Wasn't my decision," he murmured, swallowing hard. "It was hers." He turned Taffy toward the road and galloped off.

Samantha arranged a bundle of baby's breath in a vase on the vanity and then laid a folded piece of paper against the vase.

"Samantha, are you in here?" Myra called, opening the door. "Sam?"

Samantha spun around guiltily, putting her hands behind her back.

"There you are. Ready for lunch?" She eyed the flowers. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Samantha whispered.

Myra walked over to her, eyeing the flowers and picking up the paper. She unfolded it to reveal her daughter's distinct handwriting

Her face fell. "'Will you marry me? Love, Horace," she read aloud. She lowered the note. "Did you write this, sweetheart?"

Samantha bowed her head, swallowing hard.

"Oh, Sam," Myra murmured. "So it was you all this time." She sighed. "You got the cameo, too? And the bath? How did you afford all that?"

She shrugged. "Katie and her brothers helped me do chores around town. We saved up."

"So that's what that was all about!" She rubbed her back. "Sam, I thought you liked John. He's going to be your new step-father."

She shrugged. "I like him. I just … I wish you could marry Papa instead."

Myra swallowed hard and drew her into a loving hug.

"I'm sorry, Mama," Samantha said tearfully.

"Oh, Sam. I should be the one sayin' sorry," she murmured. "I'm afraid your ma hasn't done a very good job copin' with everything that's happened between your pa and me. And sometimes I forget you're goin' through this, too." She hugged her tighter. "Come on, sit down. We'll have a talk."

Myra rang the bell outside the clinic, holding Samantha's hand.

"Come in," Michaela called.

"Wait here, Samantha? All right?" Myra said, guiding her to the bench.

"Yes, Mama," she whispered.

Myra opened the door and shut it behind her. Michaela looked up from some medical charts on her desk and put down her pen.

"Good afternoon, Myra. How are you?"

"Oh, I’m all right. This a good time to talk?"

"Certainly. Is something wrong?"

"Well, not exactly." She approached her desk and handed Michaela the cameo. "A secret admirer gave me this the other week."

"Secret admirer? What do you mean?"

"And every day I've found flowers or chocolates by my bed. Somebody even paid for me to have a bath at Jake's." She chuckled softly. "Funny thing is, first I thought it was Hank. I thought he still wasn't over us. When he swore he had nothin' to do with it, then I thought it had to be Horace. But then he said it wasn't him either." She smiled. "Dr. Mike, the children got that for me. And the flowers and everything else. Katie and Byron, Red Eagle. And Samantha."

Michaela glanced at the cameo again. "The children got this for you? How?" Her mouth dropped open. "Their chores. That's what all those chores they've been doing are for."

"I'm afraid so."

"I don't believe it," she murmured. "But why?"

"I just had a big talk with Samantha. Seems, well, they wanted Horace and me to get back together. Get married again."

She swallowed hard. "Oh."

"They thought if the two of us got married, we'd move back to Colorado Springs."

"Oh, Myra. I had no idea that's what they were doing." She handed her back the cameo. "How's Samantha? Is she all right?"

"She's fine. We had a long talk. I'll talk to the rest of the children, too, if you want, Dr. Mike. After all, they did all this for me and Horace."

She sighed and rested her hands in her lap. "No, that's all right. I'll talk to them."

"They sure are sweet," she murmured. "I feel just awful about this."

"No, don't," she said, rising to her feet.

"I thought gettin' a divorce would solve everything," Myra said, shaking her head. "I thought, just as soon as we signed those papers it would all be over with. Now it seems like this is going to go on forever."

Michaela stepped toward her and gently hugged her. "I know it's difficult at first, but things are going to improve."

"Oh, Dr. Mike. I can't thank you and your family enough for supporting us through this. A lot of folks we used to know, well, they don't want to have much to do with us anymore. Lot of folks don't want to have anything to do with somebody who's been divorced. This whole thing has been real hard on Samantha."

"I know. But I think she's doing remarkably well. She's such a wonderful little girl. I must admit I have to agree with the children. I wish you could stay in Colorado Springs, too."

"Oh, sometimes I do, too," Myra murmured, hugging her a little tighter.

Michaela pulled the wagon up to the porch and climbed down. She lifted the baby out of her basket and walked up the porch stairs, opening the door.

The children were gathered at the table with Elizabeth, diligently working on their homework.

"Hey, Mama," Byron called.

"How was school?" she asked.

"Good," he replied.

"Good," Katie echoed.

"Mother, could you take the baby?" Michaela asked, approaching her.

"Certainly. Come here, little sweetheart," Elizabeth said as Michaela laid the baby in her arms.

"Children? Let's sit outside on the porch. I need to talk to you," Michaela said.

"Are we in trouble? Not again," Byron said as they put aside their schoolwork and got up.

She smiled softly and guided them all outside. "No. No, not at all."

"Oh, good."

Michaela took a seat on the porch and gathered the children close. "Samantha's mother came to see me today. She told me about the cameo and the flowers and everything else you’ve been doing."

"Oh, no! You told our secret!" Byron cried, glaring at his brother and sister.

"No I didn't!" Red Eagle exclaimed.

"Me neither!" Katie added.

"Sweethearts, Myra asked Horace about the gifts and it was then she realized they weren't from him. Then she caught Samantha putting a note beside her bed."

"Oh," Byron murmured. "Whoops."

"So this is what you've been doing all these weeks," Michaela said, putting her arm around them. "Trying to get Horace and Myra back together."

Katie's eyes welled with tears. "I'm sorry, Mama. We just wanted to help Samantha."

"Don't be sorry. I think it's very kind of you to want to help like that."

"We thought maybe if her ma and pa fall in love again, Samantha could stay here," Byron explained, clutching Michaela's arm.

"Yeah, they could get married again," Red Eagle said. "And then Samantha wouldn't be so sad."

"Oh, my darlings," Michaela murmured, rubbing Red Eagle's back.

"But I guess we just didn't do enough," Byron added.

"Sweetheart, I know it's difficult to understand, but Samantha's mother and father are probably not going to get married again. Their divorce was a long time ago and they've both moved on with their lives."

"But it's not fair, Mama," Katie protested. "Samantha never gets to be with her pa. She has to get on a train two days just to see him."

"I know. I know that seems terribly unfair. Sometimes things like that just can't be avoided when a mother and father don't live together anymore. But Samantha's parents have tried very hard to give her as normal and happy a life as possible under the circumstances."

"Just wish we coulda fixed it," Byron whispered, resting his head against Michaela's shoulder.

"I know. But their problems are not your fault. You're not responsible for fixing them. And neither is Samantha. Only Horace and Myra can do that." She rubbed Katie's back. "Do you know the one thing that doesn't change when a couple gets divorced?"

"What?" Katie whispered, gently swiping away a tear that had fallen down her cheek.

"How much they love their children. Samantha's parents love her very much. Even though they don't live together, they still love her as much as a mother and father could possibly love their child. Nothing could ever change that." She kissed Byron's head. "And nothing could ever change how much I love you either. I'm so proud of you for how hard you've been working just to help a friend. I only wished you had come to me first."

Byron giggled softly. "I guess I'm glad we don't have to wash anymore windows."

Katie grinned. "Yeah. My arms hurt."

"Mine, too," Red Eagle added.

Michaela smiled. "I bet they do. Samantha just needs friends right now. Just be her friend, all right?"

The children hugged her tightly and Michaela hugged back, rocking them lovingly.

"Can't believe that's what they were doin'," Sully remarked as he and Michaela snuggled up on the settee in front of the sitting room fire. Eliza was tucked up warmly against Michaela's belly, nursing vigorously at her breast.

"I know, neither can I." She sighed and stroked the baby's head. "Now I really feel guilty about punishing them."

"Still don't excuse the way they disappeared like that not tellin' us where they were all that time."

"Their hearts were in the right place at least."

"Punishment's over end of the week. They'll survive it."

"I just can't imagine how they got the idea for all of that. Wouldn't they rather be playing baseball or checkers or chess instead of all those chores they were doing?"

"Cause they're like their ma. Just want folks to be happy. They thought Myra and Horace gettin' back together would make Samantha and everybody happy."

"I suppose. It is unfortunate what happened between the two of them. Remember how in love they were?"

He kissed her forehead. "I think they still love each other. Bein' married just didn't work out. Sometimes no matter how much ya might care for somebody, gettin' married is just somethin' that ain't the best idea. Gotta think about more than just bein' in love. A marriage is about more than that."

"I'm glad you didn't feel that way about me," she replied. "I don't know what I'd do if you didn't want to get married."

"I didn't for awhile, remember? Just wasn't ready yet. I needed some time. Bein' in love and wantin' to get married are two different things."

She looked up at him teasingly. "So when did you first think you wanted to marry me?"

"I don't know. Guess I really started to think about it once we came back from Boston after your ma took sick. Just wasn't sure folks as different as you and me could make it work."

"I'd say we managed to make it work quite nicely, wouldn't you?"

He glanced at the baby and caressed Michaela's cheek. "I'd say so, Mrs. Sully."

She smiled and kissed him, and then he drew a quilt around them and held her all the closer as they gazed at the flames.

Loren looked through Sarah's egg basket and counted them up. "Eleven, twelve, thirteen," he said. He looked at Sarah impatiently. "Why don't you just make it an even twelve and be easy on me?"

She blinked. "But they didn't lay twelve, Mr. Bray. They laid thirteen."

"Hm, so they did," he muttered, opening his cash box just as his telephone rang.

"Oh, look. Somebody's ringing you," Sarah said excitedly.

"Don't worry. Probably not for me anyway," Loren said, walking to his phone impatiently. He picked up the receiver. "Bray's Mercantile. Loren Bray speaking," he said dryly. He hung up a moment later. "See, what'd I tell you? Operators must have the lines mixed up. They keep ringin' me when they mean to ring somebody else."

Sarah chuckled quietly to herself just as Brian walked into the store carrying an empty crate and a list.

"Ma sent me to pick up the groceries, Mr. Bray," he said. He stopped when he saw Sarah.

"Oh. Hey, Sarah," Brian said awkwardly.

She swallowed hard. "Hey," she whispered.

Loren eyed the couple worriedly as he counted out Sarah's coins. "Here ya go."

"Thank you, Mr. Bray," she whispered. "Bye, Brian."

"Bye," he murmured, staring at her as she walked quietly out of the store and climbed up into her buggy.

"You're a fool, boy," Loren said.

"Who me?" Brian asked blankly.

"Yeah, you. You're just gonna let a nice girl like that slip through your fingers?" he demanded.

Brian looked at him impatiently. "Here's my ma's list."

"You keep this up and you're still gonna be livin' with your ma when you're my age," he replied.

"No I won't," Brian said defensively.

"We'll see," he replied, grabbing the list and heading off to his shelves.

Teresa held up her attendance roster and a pencil as she stood behind her desk. "Jed Smith?"

"Here."

"Katie Sully?"

"Here," Katie replied.

Red Eagle and Byron shared mischievous glances.

"Byron Sully?" Teresa said.

"Present," Byron replied playfully. The rest of the children giggled and Teresa lowered her folder and gazed at him for a moment. But she seemed to decide against reprimanding him and simply tapped her ruler gently on her desk. "Class, please. Danny Walters?" she finally said.

"Here," he replied.

She closed her attendance book. "Very good. Now, as you know we start our new term today. And with a new term comes new seats and new partners."

Red Eagle and Byron looked at each other anxiously.

"New partners?" Red Eagle whispered.

Teresa immediately began rearranging everyone, moving some students back and others forward. Katie looked thrilled with her new partner, Allison Garrison, one of her best friends.

"Byron, your new partner is Oliver. Please move up one row," Teresa instructed.

"But," the little boy murmured.

Teresa tapped the desk. "Byron, sit here."

Byron knew there was no use arguing with the teacher. She was very firm and rarely changed her mind about anything. He gave Red Eagle a helpless look and gathered his slate and books, trudging up to the next row and collapsing on the bench.

"Hey! I'm Oliver!" the eager little second-grader said, looking up at Byron in awe. He was at least three inches shorter than Byron, a horrible baseball player on Mr. Lodge's team who usually sat on the bench most of the time, and he was clearly thrilled to have an older boy as his partner.

"I know," Byron murmured.

"I'm glad we're partners. You're a real good hurler," Oliver said enthusiastically. "Could you teach me sometime? I'm left-handed, you know. Just like you. Could you teach me?"

Byron sighed. "I guess." He wasn't going to cry in school in front of all the children. Instead he folded his arms on his desk and rested his chin on them, barely paying attention the rest of the day.

Michaela was waiting for the children outside school when they came out. Her smile faded when Byron bolted to her, threw his arms around her waist and began sobbing, letting go all of the tears he had been bottling up all day.

"What on earth? What happened?" she asked smoothing his hair.

"Mama, Miss Teresa, she made me sit with the little kids," he explained.

"He has to sit with Oliver," Red Eagle explained sadly. Katie nodded.

"He's only six," Byron cried. "He can't even play baseball."

Michaela took out his handkerchief and dabbed at his cheeks. "All right, shh, don't cry," she soothed. "I'll talk to your teacher right now. Wait here."

She ascended the steps where Teresa was erasing the blackboards.

"Mrs. Slicker, my son is outside very upset," she began impatiently. "He says you moved his seat?"

Teresa turned around calmly, holding the eraser. "All the children received new seat assignments today, yes. I always give new seats at the beginning of the term."

"Well, why can't he sit with Red Eagle?" she demanded, stepping closer.

"Because they are working on different lessons now," she replied simply.

"No, I want them to sit together," she retorted. "I want you to move him back to his old seat."

Now Teresa was getting angry. She stepped closer to her. "Dr. Quinn, you gave me permission to hold him back. It will be much more beneficial to him to sit with the younger students as he will be doing lessons with them now. You don't agree?" She folded her hands. "Give him time to get used to it. I think he will like his new partner. I thought very carefully about it. Good day." She spun around and continued wiping down the boards.

Michaela stared at her lividly, and then turned around, walking briskly out of the classroom and shutting the door firmly behind her.

Michaela paced in the barn furiously. "I can't believe that woman. I trusted her that she was going to handle this delicately. Then the first thing she does is separate him from Red Eagle?"

"We probably shoulda prepared him that was gonna happen," Sully murmured as he unsaddled his horse.

"Byron works so well with Red Eagle. They both work well together. I never thought holding him back meant they couldn't sit together anymore. Byron doesn't even get along with Oliver. They're nearly two years apart in age."

"Aint such a bad thing Byron learns how to work with a different child. He's always had trouble makin' new friends."

"I didn't realize this was supposed to be a lesson in making friends. I thought our main concern was his happiness at school. And right now he's miserable again."

"We knew there was gonna be drawbacks to holdin' him back," Sully said as he hoisted the saddle off and put it over the side of the stall. "There were bad things about lettin' him go on to the next grade, too, Michaela."

"I didn’t know he was going to come home to me crying his eyes out," she replied. "I should have known she wasn't going to go out of her way to make this any easier on him. I think we should tell Teresa we changed our minds. She should promote him to the next grade and we'll forget this ever happened."

Sully came to her and clutched her shoulders. "Michaela, I know this is hard. But it's only his first day. First days are always tough. I still think we should stick this out."

"I can't stick this out for very long," she protested. "Not when he's this upset."

"Let's at least give it a week," he suggested. "Things'll get better for him, you'll see."

"One week, Sully. If things don't improve, I'm telling Teresa we're not going to do this anymore."

"Come on, let's go inside. I'm starvin' and I can smell that supper cookin' from here."

She sighed and put her arm around him and they headed to the house.

Sully carried in a bucket of milk into the kitchen and placed it on the table. Then he walked to Michaela and lifted the baby out of her sling.

"Mornin', beautiful," he whispered, kissing her tiny cheek.

"She's gaining weight," Michaela remarked with a proud smile as she added some strips of bacon to a warm pan.

"Sure is. She's a real good grower."

Michaela listened to Brian chop wood outside. She left the stove for a moment to look out the window. "Sully, he hasn't seen her in five days. All he does is eat, sleep and work at the Gazette."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, joining her at the window.

"Sully, he's positively heartsick."

"We can't force 'em to talk, Michaela. They'll work this out in their own time."

"I'm going to go see the Reverend this morning. Find out what he thinks." She returned to the stove to check on the bacon.

"Michaela, don't meddle," he said in caution.

"Meddling? This isn't meddling. I'm just talking to the Reverend. That's allowed."

He glanced outside again. Brian truly was very upset about everything, he had to admit. "Guess it can't hurt to at least see what he has to say," he replied. He raised the baby above his head and then brought her down to kiss her forehead. "You ain't ever gettin' married, ya understand, Eliza girl? All this is just too hard on your ma and pa."

Michaela chuckled and put her arm around him, grasping the baby's bare foot and kissing her toes.

"Yes, Sarah told me," the Reverend said as he laid some Bibles on the benches.

"I just can't believe it. I don't know what to do," Michaela said as she stood in the aisle and rubbed the baby's back restlessly.

"Well, Dr. Mike, I know this is hard to hear but there really isn't much you can do. Sometimes when parents get involved in a couple's disagreements they can end up making it worse."

"But they called the whole wedding off," she protested.

"Believe it or not lots of couples think about callin' the weddin' off. Getting married's a big step and it's normal to feel uncertain sometimes."

"Not normal for this couple. They're so in love."

He put down another Bible and approached her, swinging his cane along the floor. "That I know for sure. And that's why I'm not too worried. I think they just need a little time. Give them some time. I don't think this wedding is off for good by any means."

"You're sure?" she whispered.

He smiled. "I been marryin' couples for twenty years. I’m sure."

Sully, Kirk, William and the rest of the workers waited patiently on the station steps as a railroad building inspector surveyed their work. He was holding a clipboard and making lots of checkmarks as Horace followed him.

Sully had no doubt the building would pass inspection. He knew they had done a fine job on it. But there was something about being in the presence of a railroad man that made him feel very uneasy.

The inspector climbed a ladder to examine the roof and then finally climbed back down and signed several of the papers.

"Meets regulations. Looks good, Mr. Bing. You're authorized to pay each worker a bonus."

"Bonus?" Horace replied. "Supervisors didn't mention that."

"All railroad workers get a bonus if the work is up to standard the first time. Twenty-five percent."

"Well, yes, sir. I will. They sure deserve it."

The inspector tore off the bottom half of the paper and handed it to him. "Have a good day, Mr. Bing."

"Goodbye, sir," he replied. Horace walked over to Sully and the workers and shook Sully's hand. "Passed inspection. Thank you, Sully."

Sully nodded and gathered his toolbox and lunch satchel.

"I'll have your bank drafts in the morning," Horace told them. "Railroad's gonna pay ya a twenty-five percent bonus."

Kirk whistled. "Twenty-five percent? Never knew the railroad to be that kind-hearted."

"Neither did I," Horace said quietly.

"Thanks for the job, Mr. Bing," Kirk said.

"Let's head over to the saloon. We deserve a drink," one of the workers said. "Ya comin', Sully?"

"No thanks," he said.

"William?" Kirk asked. "You're comin', ain't ya?"

"No, you boys go on," he said.

"Your loss," he replied as they headed down the steps.

"Honey!" Faye called as she walked toward him with her egg basket and Danielle on her hip. "Honey, where ya goin'?"

"Uh, no place. No place, honey," he replied, clearing his throat. "Uh, so Mr. Bray buy your eggs?"

The other workers laughed at him and went on ahead to the saloon.

"Yes. Came to thirty cents."

He took the baby from her. "Thought you were gonna buy some new fabric with the egg money."

"I was. But I don't feel like it now."

He glanced at her in confusion. "Don't feel like it? Honey, you been goin' on for days about how badly you need that fabric for those curtains. Now ya don't feel like it?"

"Have I? Well, I changed my mind. I wanna go home. Could you take me home?"

He glanced toward the saloon.

"Oh. Is everybody celebratin' over there?" she asked. "You can go if you want, sweetheart. I know how hard you worked."

He put his arm around her. "No. No, I'll take ya home. I'd rather be with you."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," he replied, giving her a kiss. "Let's go home."

"There goes one young couple who's got everything going for them," William remarked quietly as he packed up his tools.

Sully glanced at Kirk and Faye and then headed over to his wagon.

William followed him. "Sully, I'm grateful for this job. I owe it to you."

"Ya can thank Horace for the job. Wasn't me."

"No, but if you had told me you didn't want me here, I would have stepped down. You let me stay. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Sully said quietly.

He took out his handkerchief and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll be going back to St. Louis with Miss Myra end of the week."

Sully wasn't sure how to respond. He knew William desperately wanted to be a part of his life, but he couldn't help feeling relieved that he would be heading home soon. "Kids are gonna miss ya," he murmured. "You should write 'em."

He swallowed hard. "Yes. I will. All the time." He looked into his eyes pointedly. "Took me twenty-five years, but I found you. If nothing more ever comes of it, you should know I can rest easy knowing that you're all right, that you're living a happy life."

Sully quietly put his tools in the back of the wagon. He didn't know how to respond to that either. He was never particularly pleased to have his father in his life, yet he knew deep down how much William loved him and cared for him. But he couldn't find it in himself to return those feelings even if he wanted to.

"Have a safe trip," Sully finally murmured as he climbed into his wagon and slapped the reins, leaving William standing there somberly.

Michaela took a sip of coffee and rested her hands on the table dejectedly. The baby was asleep in the sling around her shoulders after a good feeding.

"Afternoon, Michaela," William called as he walked into the café.

She looked up solemnly. "Good afternoon."

"May I join you?" he asked.

She nodded.

"How are the children? Still being punished?"

"Yes, they're at home. Mother's put them to work polishing the silverware."

He smiled softly. "That's what my mother had me do when I misbehaved." He paused. "Is something the matter? You look very blue."

"Oh, William. I'm afraid Brian and Sarah have called off their wedding."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. Brian doesn't want to discuss it. They had some kind of argument earlier this week and they just called it off." She took another sip of coffee.

"Oh, no. That's terrible. I'm sorry to hear that."

"The Reverend said all couples go through that and we should just give them time."

"Of course. Yes, just give them some time."

"It's not just them. Byron hates school ever since we held him back. His teacher won't let him sit with Red Eagle."

"Oh, dear," he said. "Well, you should give him time to adjust."

She looked up at him with a soft smile. "That's what Sully said, too." She sighed and tried to compose himself. "I'm sorry, William. My manners. How have you been doing?"

"Well, just fine. I wanted to let you know, I…Miss Myra's going to be leaving at the end of the week. And I'm afraid I must go with her."

"Oh, William, I wish you could stay longer," she murmured. "The children are only just getting to know you."

"I think we both know this is for the best," he replied.

"What happens now? Will you visit again? Can we visit you?"

"Yes, I'd love to visit," he replied. "But…I just don't think it's a good idea I stay here any longer. Sully's very angry with me and I need to respect that."

"I'm sorry at the way this turned out," Michaela said, reaching across the table and taking his hand. "I wish it had been different."

"Well, I wish I hadn't made the mistakes I did when I was a young man. I lost my son for good the moment I walked out on my family."

She squeezed his hand tearfully. "But you haven't lost your grandchildren. We should make the most of the rest of your visit. The children's punishment is over tomorrow. Why don't we all go down to the creek and have a nice picnic lunch together?"

"Yes," he murmured. "Yes, I'd like that."

"You can bring your … what was it called?"

"My cricket bat?"

She smiled. "Yes. Your cricket bat."

"Well, I can't wait," he replied.

"I wish you would reconsider," Michaela said as she rinsed a plate under the pump. "Sully, it's just a picnic."

"I don't know why ya gotta keep pushin' this," he said tightly as he carried a stack of plates to the counter. Byron followed behind him with his plate and cup and put them on the counter.

"I'm not pushing," she protested. She passed Byron back his glass. "Finish your milk, sweetheart."

Byron drank down the last gulp of milk in his glass and then handed it to her.

"Michaela, just take the kids. But I told you I ain't goin'," Sully said. He grabbed a clean plate from her and quickly dried it off with a towel. She eyed him with disappointment and then turned her attention back to the dishes.

He glanced at her impatiently. "Ya gonna sulk the rest of the night?" he muttered.

"I don't sulk," she retorted. "That's you."

Katie slowly walked into the room, carrying her plate. She put it on the table and silently watched her parents quarrel.

"I think you should be glad I let the kids see him at all," he said tightly.

"Yes, how generous of you to allow them to see their own grandfather," she replied derisively.

He slammed the towel on the counter. "Michaela, I ain't gonna do this all night. I ain't goin' and there's nothin' more to it."

"Don't get a divorce," Katie choked out.

Michaela turned to face her, shocked. "What?"

"Please don't get a divorce," she replied, bursting into tears. "I don't wanna move far away. I don't wanna never see Papa again."

"Kates, we ain't gettin' a divorce," Sully spoke up.

"Oh, Katie," Michaela murmured, quickly drying her hands on a towel and coming to the little girl's side. She wrapped her arms around her and rocked her. "Shh, don't cry. Hush."

"You fight all the time," Katie whimpered, hugging Michaela's waist. "Please don't fight anymore."

"Yeah, you always fight," Byron whispered.

"Yeah," Red Eagle echoed.

"Come here. Sit down," Michaela said, pulling out a chair and drawing Katie into her lap. She stroked her hair and glanced at Sully. "Just because Papa and I have a disagreement about something doesn't mean we don't want to be married anymore. Some days being married is easy. And some days it's a little harder. It's just like school. Some lessons are more difficult than others. But we always try and do our best. Do you understand?"

Katie thought a moment. "Yeah. I think so."

Sully joined them and rubbed her back. "I'm sorry, Kates."

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry we fought," Michaela said, kissing her head. "We'll try not to do that anymore."

"You promise?" she replied.

Sully squatted down and smoothed away her tears. "Ya know, before you were born, when I married your ma, I made a promise to her and everybody else I'd love her no matter what. That I was gonna be the best husband I could the rest of my days. I'm keepin' my promise." He grasped Michaela's hand and gave it a gentle kiss.

Michaela smiled at him appreciatively. Then she reached out and rubbed Byron's arm. "Divorce just isn't something your papa and I would ever consider. That doesn't mean I fault other couples for choosing to get divorced. What happened to Samantha's mother and father has been difficult on everyone, but divorce was something they decided was the best thing to do after a lot of careful thought. For some people that's what's right for them. But we've worked hard to build this family, and no matter what we'll always love each other and keep our family together."

"You worked extra hard so Eliza could be part of the family, right, Mama?" Byron spoke up.

She smiled. "Yes, I did." She kissed Katie's head. "Each one of you is so precious to your pa and me. You're such a part of our hearts. Papa and I are in this for good."

Katie smiled softly, reassured.

"For good," Sully echoed resolutely.

Michaela silently brushed her hair in front of the vanity as Sully unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the back of a chair. Then he opened a drawer and looked inside.

"Michaela, ya gonna do some laundry tomorrow?" he asked.

"I just did laundry two days ago," she replied.

"Oh. I can't find any shirts," he said, pushing aside a few things in the drawer.

"Oh," she replied, putting her brush on the vanity and getting up. "Well, I'll do some shirts for you then in the morning." She walked to the crib and rubbed Eliza's belly.

He eyed her a moment, clearing his throat. "No, that's all right. I'll wear this one again."

"No, I don't mind. Come to think of it I don't think I washed any of your shirts when I last did it." She smoothed the baby's hair and then headed to the bed.

"All right. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied softly. She drew down the covers and got into bed.

He got in bed beside her, leaned over her and gave her lips the gentlest of kisses. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said hoarsely. She reached for the lamp and turned it down and then cuddled up on her side.

Sully shifted over to her and touched her back, then drew her into his arms and held her to his chest for a long moment. "Michaela?" he whispered.

"Hm?" she replied.

"You asleep? I'm sorry Katie got so upset. I'm sorry we fought in front of her."

She turned to face him. "Oh, Sully. I'm sorry, too," she said. "If you don't want to go you don't have to and I shouldn't have pressed you about it so. I promised you I would be patient, and I wasn't tonight."

"Michaela, I got my reasons why I don't wanna get to know him. And you know what those are. But it's more important to me the kids are happy, that they see that you and me support each other and we're a family that works together no matter what we have to face."

"What are you saying?"

"I'll go on that picnic tomorrow. It's a family picnic, and we're all a family."

"Oh, Sully. Thank you." She clutched his shoulder and kissed him.

"Hey, I meant what I told the kids, you know that don't ya? I'm keepin' my promise I made to ya on our weddin' day."

"I made you a promise, too, you know," she replied. "And I'm keeping it."

"Even if we're miserable, can't stand each other anymore?" he asked wryly. "Even if ya don't wanna do my laundry anymore?"

"Even then," she said with a soft chuckle. "Oh, Sully. You bring me so much happiness every day. I could never be miserable with you. I'm only miserable without you."

"That's good, 'cause I'm miserable without ya, too," he replied lovingly.

"Here's your bank draft, Sully," Horace said as he handed a slip of paper across the counter.

Sully looked at the note, confused. "Thought the railroad was payin' twenty-five percent. You sure this is right, Horace?"

He handed him another envelope. "They're payin' your bonus in stock. Here ya go."

Sully opened the envelope and pulled out a few Union Pacific Railway stock certificates. They were already made out in his name and had the date and the signature of a man named Jay Gould.

"Stock?" Sully murmured. He handed the envelope back. "I'd just as soon have it in cash."

"Sorry, Sully. The railroad said this is how I have to pay you."

Sully narrowed his brow. "They never said anything about stock. If this is how they're gonna pay me I don't want it. I'd rather tear 'em up."

"Afraid tearin' 'em up don't change the fact that you're the owner. You'll have to sell 'em back to the railroad if you don't want to keep 'em. Or sell to somebody else." He picked up a few letters and sorted through them. "Now might be a good time to invest anyway, Sully. Mr. Gould just merged the Denver Pacific and a couple other railroads under the Union Pacific. Railroad's doin' real good right now."

"Men like him are doin' good," he murmured.

"Sorry I can't pay ya the way ya want," Horace said.

"That's all right. Wasn't your fault. Thanks, Horace." He walked down the street and headed to the clinic. Michaela was just coming out of the clinic with a picnic basket, the baby over her shoulder.

"I got two pies from Grace's. The way the children eat I think we'll need more than one," she said with a smile. "I'll just get William and we'll pick up the children and head out to the creek."

He nodded silently, still clutching the stocks and bank note.

She paused. "Sully, what's wrong?"

He handed her the stocks.

"What's this?" she asked. "Union Pacific Railroad?"

"It's my bonus."

"They paid you in stock? I didn't know they were going to do that."

"I didn't know either."

"Oh, well, we've never invested in stock before," she said. "I don't even know how it all works. Does this mean we own a portion of the railroad?"

"That's what it means."

"What are we going to do with them?"

"We ain't keepin' 'em, that's for sure."

She handed him back the stocks. "Can we sell them?"

"I hope so. Guess I'll have to talk to Preston."

"Let's not worry about it right now," she said, putting her arm around him reassuringly. "Let's just enjoy our picnic."

He kissed her head and they walked to the wagon.

"Here you are, William," Michaela said as she passed him a second piece of pie.

"Thank you, Michaela," he replied. Byron climbed into his lap on the picnic blanket and took a sip of lemonade.

"Do you like it?" Michaela asked.

"It's wonderful. You're a talented baker," William said.

She smiled wryly. "It's not mine. It's Grace's."

"It's never Mama's pie, silly," Byron remarked. "She can't cook."

"Byron, I can cook," Michaela protested. "I'm just not very good at pies."

He raised his eyebrows and ate another bite. "What? Papa said."

"Yeah, you did say that, Pa," Red Eagle added. "That Mama can't cook."

"Hey, no I didn't," Sully immediately spoke up. "I just said you're…"

"I'm what?" Michaela demanded, eyeing him critically.

"Better at some things than others," he replied carefully, leaning forward and giving her a reassuring kiss.

"She must be cooking something you like. You're getting taller by the minute," William said as he patted Byron's back. "That reminds me. When I was a boy I had a sheepdog. He loved tarts and scones and pies. He would swipe them right off the table with his paw and I'd hear my mother screaming."

Byron giggled. "Was he a smart dog?"

"Oh, yes. He knew lots of tricks."

"What was his name?" Katie asked.

"George. After the king of England. King George."

"What's a king do?" Byron asked.

He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "Well, I'm not sure. It's a bit like the president here. He runs the country."

"Is King George a good king?" Katie asked.

"Well, not everyone thought so. But he's not king anymore. After he died there was a king with my name. King William. And now there's a queen called Queen Victoria. And she's a very good queen."

"Mama, in England they have a queen," Katie said excitedly. "A lady runs the whole country."

"Yes, I've heard," she replied with a smile.

"I didn't even know girls were allowed," Katie said.

"It'd be nice if we had a woman president of our country someday," Michaela remarked.

"Don't get any ideas," Sully remarked wryly. "Ya know how I feel about politics."

"I didn't mean me," she replied with a soft laugh. "But someone."

"I think a lady would do a real good job," Sully said. "If she's anything like you."

"Women make very good politicians," William remarked. "They truly care about their people. That makes for a good leader."

Michaela smiled at him and rested the baby over her shoulder.

"I'm done," Byron announced, standing up. "Mama, can I go show Gran'pa the waterfall?"

"Certainly. But stay with him. Don't wander too far."

"Yes, ma'am." He grabbed William's hand, dragging him to his feet. "Come on, Gran'pa. Come on. I'll show you my favorite spot."

"Yes, of course." He put his plate down and squeezed his hand. "Where is it?"

"Down this path, follow me," he instructed as they took off down a narrow trail. "You like Colorado, Gran'pa?"

"Yes, I do."

He spotted a long, bare stick on the ground and lighted up with excitement. "Here's a good walking stick!" He grabbed it and handed it to him. "Here, use this."

William clutched the stick firmly in his hand. "This is a good walking stick. Thank you."

"You're welcome!" he exclaimed as they continued their hike.

William watched him with a smile. He reminded him so much of his first wife, especially when they met when she was sixteen and her parents bought the farm for sale next to his parents' property. She was the most loving, sweetest person he had ever known. And she was spirited just like Byron. She got excited about everything, from a change in the weather to a trip into town to a new poem she was reading.

"You remind me of your grandmother," he spoke up softly.

"Gran'ma? Really? Mama says I look like Papa."

He sighed. Byron thought he was talking about Elizabeth. He didn't understand that he also had a grandmother on his father's side of the family, albeit one who had passed away decades before he was even born. But William was sure Katherine would have adored him with all her heart. She would have adored all her grandchildren.

"The creek's just up there. Come on, Gran'pa!" Byron encouraged. He let go of his hand and ran ahead at full speed.

"Wait for me," he said with a chuckle. "I'm an old man."

Byron made his way down the bank, arms flailing. He stopped short and burst into a smile. Two little black bear cubs, probably no more than six weeks old, were playing along the banks, wrestling with each other and lightly nipping each other. He watched them with amusement for a moment, then suddenly his smile faded. He remembered his father warning him countless times about bear cubs. Where there were bear cubs, there was sure to be a mother. And a mother bear was always extremely protective of her young, to the point where she could be very dangerous. Sully had always told him to walk away slowly and quietly if he came across such a situation. Just as Byron was turning to walk back up the bank and warn William of his findings, the cubs' mother came charging out of the trees at full speed toward him.

Byron shouted and scrambled to get up the bank, but the bear quickly caught him and pushed him to the ground.

"Gran'pa!" Byron cried in horror. He screamed in sheer agony as the bear batted his back with her large paw. Then she growled and grabbed his leg with her teeth, dragging him a few feet down the bank. Byron screeched again piercingly.

"Get away from him! Get away!" William screamed, waving his walking stick and running down the bank. "Get away!" He ran straight up to the bear, screaming and shouting at her and hitting her face with the stick with all his might. Startled, the bear immediately let go of Byron's leg and jogged down the bank for her cubs.

"Gran'pa! Gran'pa!" Byron shrieked, clutching his leg.

William fell to his knees, face pale in shock. Blood oozed and sputtered from Byron's leg. There was no doubt he was severely injured. "Come on, boy," he said, lifting him into his arms.

Byron clutched William's neck and cried hysterically.

"Hush, I'll take you to your mother. You'll be all right," William said, patting his back and racing back up the bank.

William ran back toward the picnic area, Byron cradled in his arms. The little boy was crying despairingly and clutching his wounded leg.

"Michaela!" William shouted.

"Oh, my God!" Michaela cried, rising to her feet and running toward him. "What happened?! Oh, my God, Byron!"

Sully followed quickly behind. His heart sank and his whole chest tightened with fear at the horrifying sight of his bloody and wounded son.

"Byron!" Katie cried as she and Red Eagle stood up and followed.

"A bear," William panted. "A bear attacked him. He ran into her cubs at the river."

Byron whimpered and clutched Michaela's arm. "Mama."

"Lay him on the blanket," Michaela said, quickly returning to their picnic blanket and pushing aside the basket and a few plates.

Sully grabbed Michaela's medical bag out of the back of the wagon and opened it for her. Katie started crying and Red Eagle held her hand to comfort her.

"Help him, Mama," Katie pleaded.

Michaela took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. She couldn't panic. Her son needed her to keep control and draw on all her medical knowledge to save his life. She grabbed a pair of bandage scissors out of her bag and cut open his pant leg. His leg was covered in blood and he had two severe puncture wounds. "I'm going to need to put him to sleep to suture him. He's going to need several dozen stitches," she said, probing his leg carefully. "It tore into the muscle." She grabbed a few napkins and wrapped them around his wounds. "Hold those there, Sully. Put as much pressure on it as you can."

Byron sobbed and looked up at his mother and father tearfully.

"I know, sweetheart. Mama's going to make you all better. Can you turn on your side?" Michaela asked.

Sully helped him roll carefully to the left so Michaela could examine his back. "Come on, son. Turn on your side. Good boy," he murmured.

Michaela cut open his shirt. There was a row of bloody scratches down his back where the bear had clawed him, but they were much shallower than his leg wound.

"Michaela, tell me how to help," William spoke up.

Michaela gathered some more napkins and pressed them to his back. "Hold these here," she instructed. "Press it down firmly."

William got down on his knees and pressed the napkins against his back. Meanwhile Michaela cut off a length of bandage and wrapped it around Byron's thigh, pulling it as tight as it would go. Byron moaned in response and tried to push Michaela's hands away.

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry." She glanced at Sully. "It's a tourniquet."

"Ya gonna stitch him up here?" Sully asked, panting.

"I'm going to need to put him under. It's going to take several hours to stitch everything. I think we should move him to the clinic."

He nodded and kept smoothing back Byron's hair. "We're gonna go on a little ride, son."

"No," he whimpered.

Michaela dug into her medical bag and found a bottle of morphine and a syringe. Byron watched her in horror.

"No shot, Mama! No shot!" he cried.

"I have to, my darling," she said as she filled up the syringe. "It's a long ride back to town and Mama wants you to be comfortable."

"No shot!" he begged. "Please!"

"Be a brave boy, Byron," William said. "This will just be a wee pinch and you'll feel better, all right?"

Byron sniffled. "All right, Gran'pa," he murmured.

"All right. There's a brave boy," he replied.

Michaela thrust the needle into his thigh and he screeched and writhed in protest.

"Hold him, Sully!" Michaela cried.

Sully grabbed his arms firmly and held him down. "Hang on. Hang on," he said, eyes welling with tears. "You're doin' so good. Hang on."

"Byron," Katie whimpered, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Byron."

"Let's get him into the wagon. Lift him up carefully," Michaela instructed.

"You get his arms," William said. "I'll lift under his legs."

Sully slowly stood up and lifted Byron under the arms and William supported his legs. They walked the few steps to the wagon, Sully unlatched the back and pulled it down and they gently laid him in the back.

Michaela grabbed the picnic blanket and lifted it up, dumping all the dishes and silverware and cups onto the ground. Then she hurried to the wagon and climbed up beside Byron, covering him warmly with the blanket and crouching down beside his head.

Sully and William lifted the children into the back with Michaela, and Sully grabbed the basket with the baby in it and climbed up on the seat, placing the basket on the floor.

"Mama's here," Michaela said, lifting the little boy's head into her lap and holding his face between her hands. "Mama's here. You're all right, aren't you, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," he said tearfully.

"Ya ready?" Sully asked, looking back as he gathered the reins.

She nodded. "Not too fast. We don't want to jostle him too much."

He nodded and gave the reins a big slap. "G'up. G'up!"

Sully leaned over the examination table and watched Byron's chest slowly move up and down. The little boy wore nothing but the tattered remains of his long underwear, the pant leg and the back of the garment having been cut open with Michaela's bandage scissors when she first examined him.

"More chloroform," Michaela instructed as she worked on repairing his leg. She had been silently counting the stitches as she put them in. This one was the twenty-seventh, and she still had a lot more to go. Her apron and sleeve protectors were soaked with blood, and there was a little streak of blood across her brow where she had dabbed away the perspiration with the back of her hand.

Sully grabbed the cloth and doused it with chloroform and held it over his mouth. "Here ya go, son. You hang on."

Andrew suddenly opened the door, stepping into the room urgently.

"I just heard," he said, shutting the door on the crowd of people outside and walking to the table.

"Oh, Andrew, I'm so glad you're here," Michaela said gratefully.

"How are his vitals?" he asked, grasping the little boy's wrist and feeling his pulse.

"Blood pressure's low, but he's stable."

"Puncture wound?" he asked, watching as she continued to stitch his leg.

"It tore deep into the gastrocnemius muscle. I've been trying to repair it for an hour."

He gazed at her pointedly. "Michaela, was there any chance that bear was rabid?"

"I don't know," she said unsteadily.

"She had a couple cubs," Sully explained. "Sounds like she was just protectin' her young. Byron musta took her by surprise."

He nodded. "Tell me what you'd like me to do."

"It's going to be awhile before I'm done with his leg. Could you start stitching up his back? He has some lacerations across his shoulder. There's some fine suturing thread in my cabinet."

Andrew immediately walked to her basin and washed his hands thoroughly, then walked to her cabinet, gathering the supplies he would need into a basin.

"He's lost so much blood," Michaela said fearfully.

"We'll give him some of mine," Sully said resolutely. "Just as soon as ya finish up here."

"Blood transfusions can be risky," Andrew remarked as he joined them at the operating table. "You might make it worse."

"I done it more than a couple times," Sully said. "It's always worked."

"For some reason no one's ever had an adverse reaction to Sully's blood," Michaela explained.

Andrew wiped away some of the blood from the little boy's back as he examined his scratches. "Well, in that case I think you should do it."

Sully tucked his arm under his head and watched his blood flow down a long rubber tube and into his little boy's arm. Michaela stood by Byron and gently bathed his face with a cloth. He was still unconscious from the chloroform and lots of morphine. Andrew was nearby silently cleaning up the instruments from the surgery and discreetly folding up blood-soaked sheets and aprons and sleeve protectors and placing them in the stove. At last Michaela turned to Sully and grasped the tourniquet strapped to his upper arm, turning it to loosen it.

"No, give him a little more," Sully whispered.

"You've given him more than a pint already," she protested. "Sully, it's not going to help him if you're incapacitated, too."

"I feel fine. Ya can give him a little more."

She reluctantly nodded and tightened the tourniquet. They watched the blood flow for a few more minutes and then Michaela clamped the tube near Byron's arm. "All right. No more."

He gazed at her as she slowly removed the needle from Byron's arm, cleaned the area with some iodine and wrapped it in a tight bandage. "He all right?" Sully asked, raising his head to look at him.

"Don't get up. Lie still. I'll get you something to eat in a moment."

He let his head fall back and tried to stay still as Michaela loosened the tourniquet, removed the needle from his vein and tied a similar bandage around his arm. Then she filled a glass from a pitcher of water and handed it to him.

"Drink all of that down if you can."

He drank the whole glass and then slowly sat up as Michaela found a tin of crackers and handed him a few to eat.

"Are you dizzy at all? Light headed?" she asked, rubbing his arm.

He ate one of the crackers. "No, I feel all right. Just worried about him right now."

Michaela put her stethoscope in her ears and listened to Byron's heart again. It was faster than she would have liked, but steady.

Andrew approached them. "There's a lot of people waiting for word outside," he spoke up. "Would you like me to speak to them?"

Michaela put her stethoscope around her neck and took a brave breath. "No, I think I should do it. They should hear this from me."

Andrew gently touched his hand to Byron's head. "I'll stay with him. I'll call you if anything changes."

"Let me come with ya," Sully said, slowly sliding down from the table.

Michaela grasped his arm to steady him and they made their way slowly to the door. Michaela opened it. She was overwhelmed by all the townsfolk waiting outside. The Reverend was right up front, holding his Bible and walking stick. Elizabeth and William were sitting on the bench and Dorothy was standing right next to them cradling the baby. Matthew had his arm around Katie and Loren was rubbing Red Eagle's back. Brian was also standing with the children, his hand on Red Eagle's shoulder. Grace and Robert E. were standing nearby, Grace clutching the cross around her neck. Horace and Myra and Samantha were also on the edges of the crowd. Faye and Kirk were waiting beside Jake and Teresa, who was holding a rosary. Preston had wandered over from his bank to wait for word, too. Even Hank had made his way over from the saloon with a few of his girls.

"He made it through the surgery," Michaela said.

The crowd let out sighs of relief.

"Thank the good Lord," Grace whispered.

"He's stable for now. But he's lost a lot of blood," she explained. "We gave him some of Sully's and he's resting now. Now we just have to wait."

Katie got up from the bench and ran to Michaela, hugging her tightly and bursting into tears.

"Shh. Shh," Michaela soothed, stroking her hair helplessly. "He's going to be all right. He'll be all right."

"I've organized a prayer meeting," the Reverend spoke up. "We're going to head over to the church right now."

"We appreciate that, Reverend," Michaela replied, holding Katie tightly as the townsfolk slowly disbanded and made their way to the church.

Elizabeth and William lingered behind with the children and Brian.

"I want to see him," Katie pleaded. "Please, Mama?"

Michaela glanced at Sully. Byron looked very battered and weak right now. She had a feeling it might not be a good idea the children visit just yet.

"Maybe in the morning, all right?" she whispered. "He's sleeping now. He needs to rest."

"All right," Katie whispered.

William slowly got to his feet, clutching his hat. "Sully, Michaela, I can't tell you how sorry I am."

"No. William, you saved his life," Michaela replied. "You warded off that bear from doing further damage."

"Saved his life?" Sully blurted. "Michaela, it's his fault Byron even got hurt!"

"Sully, how can you say that?" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Everybody knows ya don't walk up to a creek bed this time of year in bear country without checkin' first. Harder for 'em to hear ya comin' and move out of the way."

"Sully, it was an accident," Michaela protested.

"It was careless," he retorted, taking a step toward William. "From now on I want ya to stay away from my kids, my family."

"But … Gran'pa," Red Eagle spoke up quietly. "He saved Byron."

William glanced at the little boy with surprise. He had never called him Grandpa before. But he didn't have time to be moved what with Sully staring him down so lividly. He reached his hand up to touch Sully's shoulder.

"Son, I know you're-"

"I ain't your son!" Sully retorted. He pushed him off roughly and William staggered back.

"Hey, take it easy!" Brian shouted, quickly standing up and moving between the men to prevent any more contact.

"Sully, please don't do this now," Michaela pleaded.

"I mean it. I want him out of our lives," he retorted. He stumbled a bit, suddenly feeling very dizzy.

"Sully, stop. You just lost a lot of blood," Michaela said, holding onto his arm securely. "You need to come inside, sit down."

Brian took his other arm. "Come on, Pa. Lie down inside."

He reluctantly nodded and allowed Michaela and Brian to lead him back into the clinic. He was livid with William, but at the moment, his son needed him more.

The sun was just coming up as Michaela examined Byron's injured leg. Her stitchwork appeared to be taking well. The wound was no longer bleeding and his leg was looking a lot better. She carefully cleaned the wound with her carbolic acid and some cotton.

Sully was sitting on the bed, Byron's head in his lap. Sully held a glass and gave him little sips of water every so often and kept bathing his face with a cloth. He was coming in and out of consciousness, whimpering and sniveling when he was awake but still unable to speak. Andrew was dozing in a rocking chair near the bed, his stethoscope around his neck.

Michaela wrapped the wound in fresh bandages and suddenly noticed Byron's hospital gown was damp. "Oh. Sully, he just urinated."

Sully glanced down worriedly and kept bathing his face.

"It's actually a good sign," she spoke up reassuringly. "Everything's still functioning normally. I'll get him a fresh gown." She walked to the cabinet nearby and found another child's gown. She unfolded it and returned to the bed.

"Let's sit him up. Gently," she instructed, helping Sully lift Byron from the pillows and then unbuttoning his gown and carefully slipping it over his head.

"Hang on, son," Sully whispered. "Mama's gonna get ya dry in just a minute here."

Byron moaned a little as Michaela dried his thighs with a cloth and then slipped the new gown over his head.

Sully buttoned it up for him and then laid him back against the pillow. Byron suddenly began whimpering in earnest and tossing his head in distress.

"Shh, shh," Michaela whispered, leaning over him and caressing his face. "Mama's here. Mama's here."

"Mama," he suddenly choked out.

Tears fell down her cheeks. "Yes. Mama's here, my darling. Mama and Papa are right with you."

"We ain't leavin'," Sully vowed, smoothing back his hair.

"Hurts," he cried.

"Oh. I know. We'll get you some more medicine, all right?" She quickly grabbed the syringe and bottle of morphine, filling the syringe with a generous douse of the drug, pulling up his gown and injecting it into his uninjured leg. Byron screeched at the pain of the injection and them whimpered some more and closed his eyes.

Andrew slowly roused and made his way to the bed.

"Try to sleep, my baby boy," Michaela soothed, giving his lips a gentle kiss. "Sleep."

Andrew took out his stethoscope and listened to the child's heart. Then he felt his pulse at his neck.

"Blood pressure's dangerously low," he remarked.

Michaela grasped his wrist tearfully and felt his pulse. Andrew was right, his pulse was very weak and he was cool to the touch, hallmark signs of low blood pressure.

"What he needs is more blood," Andrew said, folding his arms.

"I'll give him some more of mine," Sully immediately volunteered.

"No, we can't give him anymore of yours, Sully," Michaela said, shaking her head. "The body can only safely tolerate giving about a pint."

"We need to find someone else who can," Andrew said.

"I'll do it," Michaela said resolutely. "I'm his mother, chances are our blood is similar."

"Michaela, you lost a great deal of blood yourself after Eliza was born," Andrew replied. "It takes months to replenish such a significant loss. You could become very anemic if you gave him blood right now."

"Andrew's right," Sully spoke up. "Sides, ya don't wanna be feelin' weak when he needs ya right now.

She nodded in agreement. As much as she wanted to help her son any way she could, she wasn't the best person to be giving him blood right now. She thought a moment, then looked up resolutely. "William."

"William?" Andrew replied.

"We could ask William to give him some," she said. "He's elderly, but he's strong and healthy. He could do it."

"No," Sully said firmly. "No, he ain't goin' near him."

"Sully, we know very little about why some blood causes a reaction in patients and some doesn't," Michaela said. "But for whatever reason thus far everyone's been able to tolerate your blood. That particular composition may run in families. He's your father. His blood may be similar to yours."

Andrew nodded. "I agree. I think we should ask him."

"What if it don't work?" Sully demanded. "He could kill him! Michaela, no."

"He's not going to make it without it! I'm not going to let our child die because you're angry at your father," she retorted. "Sully, I know you're angry, and I know you have every right to be. But William's our best chance right now. We have to do this!"

He turned his head away lividly, staring out the window and not replying. He tenderly clasped Byron's hand in his and squeezed it.

Michaela swallowed hard. "Stay with him. I'll see if I can find William. If he hasn't left already."

Michaela rapped on the door to William's room at the boarding house, still in her apron and her hair disheveled and tied back with a piece of rawhide.

"Come in," William called softly.

Michaela opened the door. He was standing beside his bed, slowly packing his belongings into his satchel. He turned to glance at her, face drawn.

"The boy's passed on," he whispered stoically.

"No, he … he made it through the night," she replied.

He let out a great sigh of relief.

"William, I know this has been difficult for both you and Sully, and I know how hard you've been trying to make amends. You need to give this time."

"Sully has the final say here. If he doesn't want me in his life then I have to go."

"You know I don't agree with him. You know I want you to be part of our family. If you truly feel you need to go then that's up to you. But before you go I need to ask an important favor of you."

He gazed at her in confusion. "What's that?"

"Byron needs more blood. Sully gave him some of his and it certainly helped, but he needs more. Dr. Cook and I are thinking perhaps you and Sully have similar blood, that your blood won't react with his."

He stepped forward, intrigued. "What do I have to do?"

She folded her hands in front of her. "I would insert a needle into a vein in your arm and withdraw about a pint. It's not without risks. You may feel weak and lightheaded for a few days afterward, and sometimes some people feel ill and may faint."

"Of course I'll do it. Michaela, of course I'll do it."

"Oh, thank you, William," she replied tearfully, stepping toward him and touching his arm. "Thank you."

"Take me to the boy. Let's do it right now."

Sully was standing nearby at the window, staring out it solemnly and refusing to look at William.

"How long does this take?" William asked curiously.

"Ten or fifteen minutes," she replied. "Depending on how quickly your blood flows."

He looked up at her pointedly. "Will this work, Michaela?"

"I hope so," she whispered. "All I know is you're the best chance we have."

Michaela felt Byron's pulse as Sully dozed in a chair beside the bed. It was about noon, and outside the rest of the town was going about their normal routines. But inside everyone's focus was on the little boy in the upstairs recovery room clinging to life.

Suddenly Byron parted his lips, letting out a quiet moan as if trying to speak.

Michaela knelt down beside him and smoothed his hair. "Sweetheart? It's Mama. Can you open your eyes?" Just as she was reaching for her stethoscope to listen to his heart again, Byron suddenly turned his head toward her and gave a little cry.

"Byron?" she said, studying him intently. "Byron, Mama's here. Wake up." She glanced at Sully. "Sully, I think he's coming around."

Sully opened his eyes and leaned forward, clutching the little boy's arm. "Byron? Son, can ya open your eyes?"

Byron slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Michaela with relief.

"Oh, there's my baby boy," Michaela said tearfully, holding his hand. "There you are." She kissed his cheek. "Oh, I love you."

He was so groggy from the morphine he could barely speak, but he kept looking at her and blinking.

"Squeeze my hand," Michaela instructed. "Can you squeeze Mama's hand?"

Byron squeezed her hand hard.

"Good boy," she said tearfully. "Good boy." She smoothed his hair and sniffled. "You have so many people praying for you and waiting for word about you. So many people who care about you. Your pa gave you some of his blood to help you. And so did William. Everyone wants you to get better so much."

"Gran'pa," he choked out.

"Oh," she murmured. "Oh, well, I think he's still downstairs. Do you want to see him?"

He nodded tiredly, closing his eyes.

"I'll get him for you," she said, moving to stand up.

"No," he immediately whimpered. "Stay. Mama, stay."

"I'll get him. I'll get him for ya, son," Sully said, patting his arm. "Just hang on."

Sully found William sitting on one of the cots downstairs, hands folded in front of him.

"Ya feel all right?" Sully asked quietly. "Ya ain't dizzy?"

"I'm fine. How's the boy?"

"He's awake. He just woke up, started talkin'."

"He did? Oh, thank God."

"He wants ya to come up," Sully added. "He's askin' for ya."

William slowly got to his feet.

"Listen, I wanna thank ya for what ya did," Sully said. "Givin' him blood. He wouldn't of made it without it."

"He's my grandson, Sully," William replied. "I had no choice."

"I know he is. I know he's your grandson. And I want him to have a grandfather. All of 'em. I want you in their lives."

William looked at him, perplexed. "Sully, are you sure?"

"I never had grandparents. I never had anybody growin' up once my ma passed on. I want things to be different for 'em. Elizabeth, Michaela's ma, she's been the best thing for 'em. This is their chance to have a gran'pa, too, and from now on I wanna support that."

"You don't know how badly I want to be in their lives, Sully. They're just…they're wonderful. All of them. Thank you."

Sully folded his arms and took a deep breath. "Maybe ya couldn't save my ma. But ya saved my son. And I'm grateful." He held out his hand and they tentatively shook. "Go on up. He's waitin'."

"Yes. Right away," William said tearfully, swallowing hard and heading up the stairs.

Byron opened his eyes again and looked toward William.

"How you feeling, son?" he whispered, approaching the bed and crouching beside him.

"Not good," he said hoarsely.

He smoothed his hair. "Shh. Rest now. You're going to be fine."

Dorothy spotted him as she headed down the street carrying a pile of copies of her Gazette to put outside Loren's store.

"William? How's Byron doing?" she called as she approached him.

He nodded. "Michaela's changing his bandages. No sign of infection. It looks like he's going to pull through."

"Good." She handed him the Gazette. "Thought you might like a copy."

He looked at the banner headline in disbelief. Hero saves local boy from bear attack, it read.

"Dorothy, I'm not a hero," he protested.

"Yes you are. According to everyone I've talked to. A reporter has an obligation to print the truth. And that's what I did."

He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face behind his hands. "Why do I make such a mess of everything I've ever been given? First Sully's mother and our sons, now I can't even manage to look after my own grandchildren properly."

Dorothy patted his back. "Oh, William. We've all walked along that creek a hundred times without giving a thought that there could be bears down there. It was an accident."

"Well, it was no accident when I walked out on Sully and his mother and brother," he muttered.

"William, I know all you want is for Sully to forgive you for that," she whispered.

"Oh, Dorothy. More than anything," he whispered back.

"Well, then you have got to forgive yourself first. You've got to understand it was a mistake that a very young man made. You've grown up since then. William, it's all right to forgive yourself."

He turned toward her tearfully and she drew him into a warm, comforting hug.

Brian leaned against Michaela's cabinet in the main room of the clinic. Katie and Red Eagle were silently playing a slow game of checkers on one of the cots and Elizabeth was sitting at Michaela's desk solemnly cradling the baby.

Michaela opened the door carrying a basin and an empty bottle of morphine and walked into the room. Her hair was a mess and she looked utterly drained.

"How is he?" Elizabeth immediately asked.

She joined her at the desk and Brian stepped toward them.

"His pulse is steady and his blood pressure's climbing," she said, swallowing hard. "He's just in a lot of pain." Her eyes welled with tears. "I have to keep him so drugged at the moment that he can't stay awake."

"Well, sweetheart, that's all right," Elizabeth said. "Sleep is what he needs to do right now to heal."

"Yes, you're right," she said, raising her hand and swiping at her tears.

Brian touched her back. "Ma, ya gotta keep your strength up. Let me head over to the café and bring everybody over somethin' to eat."

She nodded. "Thank you, Brian."

"I'll be right back," he replied, grabbing his hat off the rack and heading outside.

"Brian!" Sarah shouted as she scurried over from the store carrying her basket.

Brian stopped short. He hadn't seen Sarah in a week. They both had been avoiding each other. She didn't come into town when she knew he would be working at the Gazette, and he hadn't made any effort to go near her place. Byron was first on his mind at the moment, but the heartache he had been going through at the idea of losing Sarah for good had not abated.

"Brian! Brian! I just heard. Mr. Bray just told me." She burst into tears and dropped her basket on the bench, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, Brian!"

"Oh, Sarah," he murmured. It felt so good to have her in his arms again, and to have her supporting him through something like this.

"He's gonna be all right. Please tell me he's gonna be all right," she cried.

He stroked her hair. "He's hanging on. Pa and my gran'pa gave him some blood."

"Oh, Brian, I'm so sorry," she went on tearfully. "I'm so sorry about our fight. It seems so silly now."

"No, no it ain't silly," he replied. "You were right."

"No I wasn't. I was being petty. I just I…" She pulled back and gazed into his eyes, caressing his chest with one hand. "Brian, I love you so much. The idea of you ever gettin' hurt by somebody, I don't know, it just scared me. I didn't know what to do. I panicked."

"I know you just said those things cause you were tryin' to protect me," he said, caressing her cheek. "I'd wanna protect you from somebody I thought wasn't good for ya, too."

"You invite who you want. It's your wedding, too," she said. "Important thing is my future brother-in-law makes it through this. That's what matters."

"Future brother-in-law? This mean you still want to go through with the weddin'?" he asked hopefully.

"Go through with it?" she echoed with a chuckle. "You make it sound like it's somethin' I should be dreadin'!"

"Well, maybe ya should," he said softly. "After all, I'm gonna be your husband."

She hugged him again, kissing him. "Oh, Brian. Of course I want to marry you. I never stopped wanting to marry you. I've wanted to marry you since the day we met."

He rocked her lovingly. "No you didn't. When we met I told ya I was ten and you said you were eleven and then ya stuck your nose in the air and walked off."

She chuckled. "Oh, right. Well, maybe I wasn't quite in love just then."

"But ya are now?" he murmured.

"Oh, yes," she replied, hugging him all the tighter.

He put his arm around her. "Come on, let's head over to the café. Ya can help me bring over supper for everybody."

Sully bathed Byron's face with a wet cloth and held his hand. The little boy was softly moaning and looked to be in a great deal of discomfort, even though Michaela had just given him another injection of morphine not half an hour ago.

William walked into the room carrying a basin. "Here's some fresh water," he said, placing it on the nightstand.

"My leg, my leg," Byron moaned. "Mama, my leg."

"Shh," Sully soothed, dipping the cloth into the water. "Just try an' relax."

He writhed and whimpered, tears falling down his cheeks. "Mommy, help."

"I got ya," he whispered. "Shh, it's all right. Try not to move. Try to lie still. Your ma's comin'. Mama's comin'."

He moaned despairingly and Sully shared a helpless glance with William. They had been trying to comfort Byron all night, and they were both exhausted. And neither of them was sure how much longer they could watch the little boy suffer like this.

William walked to the doorway. "Michaela! Michaela, hurry!" he called down the hall.

Michaela entered the room with a steaming teacup and a pillow under her arm.

"Michaela, hurry," William said frantically. "Please, do something."

"Mommy! Mommy!" Byron called desperately.

"Drink this tea, sweetheart," Michaela said. "Papa's going to help you drink it."

"I can't," he muttered. "No, yucky."

Sully took the teacup from Michaela and held it to his lips. "Come on. Just gotta take a few sips."

Michaela turned down the covers and placed the pillow beside his leg. "I'm just going to elevate your leg a little, my darling. Mommy's going to put it on the pillow."

"I don't want to. I don't want a pillow!" he protested.

"It'll help it feel better," she replied reassuringly. "It won't hurt so much."

"No! No!" He screamed despairingly as Michaela carefully lifted his leg onto the soft pillow.

William paled considerably and paced near the door, nearly sick with worry. Sully gritted his teeth and his eyes welled with tears. Even he had to turn his head away a moment to keep himself together.

Michaela rubbed Byron's uninjured leg. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. We're all done. All done. You just rest now."

He moaned again and Sully tried to give him some more tea. He immediately spit it out and turned his head away.

Sully finally had to get up and walk into the hallway a moment to get some air. Michaela laid a cloth across Byron's forehead and then followed Sully, William behind her.

Sully was pacing the hallway restlessly. "He's hurtin' so bad. Why ain't the medicine workin'?"

"You have to give him more, Michaela," William added, clutching the doorframe.

"I've given him as much as I dare. Unfortunately these first few days are going to be uncomfortable for him." She walked to Sully and stopped him in his tracks, rubbed his arm reassuringly. "It's actually a good thing he's feeling pain, as difficult as it is to watch. It means there wasn't any substantial nerve damage." She squeezed his arm. "You've been up with him all night. You both have. Why don't you take a break, go downstairs and make us some coffee?"

"No, I ain't leavin' him," Sully vowed.

"Neither am I," William added.

"Sully, William, he's all right. I'll stay with him. It's all right to take a break for a little while. He needs us to take care of ourselves, too. Besides, I really could use that coffee."

Sully let out a deep sigh. "All right. I'll make some coffee."

"You call us the second you need anything," William added.

"I will," she replied.

Sully headed downstairs and William followed him. Sully headed to the stove and opened the damper, adding a few more logs to the weak fire. Then he placed the coffee pot over the front burner. Finally he stepped back and leaned against Michaela's desk, staring blankly forward.

William tentatively raised his arm and rested it on Michaela's cabinet. "You know what I was thinking the other day? "

Sully slowly met his eyes.

William smiled softly. "He's so full of life, has so much soul. He's such a happy little boy. I was thinking he reminds me of your mother."

Sully swallowed hard. He had often thought the same thing. In fact he saw a little of Katherine in all of the children. Katie had inherited her grandmother's beautiful pale, thin blond hair and her pure, gentle heart. Byron certainly had some of her spirit. And even at just a month old, there was something about Eliza's eyes that reminded him of his mother, especially when she would stare up at him resolutely as if thinking very hard. Katherine had had that same intense look about her when she was contemplating something.

Sully took a deep breath. It was so very rare he ever talked about his mother or even thought about her. She was all he had and losing her at such a young age had been so painful he had always been afraid to face it. But suddenly thinking about the way the children were like her was reminding him of the good times he had shared with her. Of all the happy times. And he felt a newfound curiosity for who she was and where she had come from, this brave, bold woman who had done such a wonderful job loving him, raising him and shaping him into the man he would become.

"I remember her eyes. Clear, bright blue, like the Hudson River on a hot summer day," Sully remarked softly.

William gazed at him with surprise. "Yes. Yes, they were."

"I always wondered, what was the name of the ship?"

"The ship?" he echoed.

Sully swallowed hard. "The ship I was born on. Ma, she couldn't remember the name."

He thought a long moment. "Well, let me see. It was called the Brig Emilie. Yes."

"The Brig Emilie," he echoed softly.

"She was a sound ship. She'd made many voyages between Liverpool and America. She saw us through a few bad storms."

Sully was silent awhile, then folded his arm. "How'd ya come to leave so late in the fall?"

He shook his head with a soft smile. "That was my fault. We should have waited until spring but I thought we could make it. I was a young man, ignorant to the ways of the world. And very foolish. That's how you came to be born on the Brig Emilie. Because your pa liked to take chances."

"She never actually said it. But growin' up I always felt like Ma didn't really wanna be here. She missed home. She missed England."

He sighed. "Yes, I knew that. Deep down I knew that. She never wanted to leave in the first place. It was to her credit she stuck by my side despite how homesick she was."

"Why'd ya come to America?" he asked. "Were things bad in England?"

He slowly took a seat. "I still remember the exact day I met your mother. July thirty-first, eighteen thirty-one."

William Sully raised his shovel and struck it down hard into the dark soil, loosening it. His mother was raking up some leaves and other rubbish beside him, sweating under the warm summer sun as she toiled on her beloved garden. Nearby his little brother James was tending to some cabbage plants with a hoe. At just twelve and small for his age, James was too young yet to handle the horses and heavy farm equipment or do much hard physical labor. William and his father shouldered the responsibility of the bulk of the chores and farm work. But his mother and brother pitched in too as much as possible. The entire family worked very hard every day to make a successful farm and turn a profit come harvest time, or at least break even.

He dug up some more soil and then looked out at the road, spotting a woman and her young daughter walking down the road toward their cottage.

"Visitors, Mother," he announced.

She stopped working and shielded her eyes. "Oh, that must be the new neighbors come to call." She waved. "Good morrow to you!"

"Good morrow!" the woman called back as they approached.

William gazed at her daughter, a bit tongue tied. She was a little younger than him, perhaps about sixteen, with the most beautiful, long blond hair he had ever seen. She had blue eyes that nearly sparkled as she smiled, and her skin was rosy and soft and perfectly clear.

The older woman approached the garden fence and smiled kindly. "I'm Mary. This is my daughter Katherine. My husband has purchased the property to the south."

William's mother put her rake aside and removed her gardening gloves. "Aye, I believe he and my husband have already met. Corinna Sully. My son William and my son James."

"William. James," Mary replied.

"How do you do," William replied politely.

"How do you do," James echoed.

Katherine lingered shyly outside the garden, clutching a fence post, as Mary walked into the garden to talk with Corinna. Soon the ladies were laughing and arranging to have tea together later in the day. William leaned on his shovel and gazed at Katherine. She gave him a little smile and he coughed and pretended he hadn't been staring at her.

Suddenly their old sheepdog came tearing out of the barn toward them, barking furiously. He ran up to Katherine and barked up at her urgently. Unlike other girls William had known, Katherine didn't seem afraid. She just seemed to think it was funny. James laughed but William abandoned his shovel and marched up to the dog.

"George! George! Manners! This is our guest!" He pointed his finger at him.

Katherine let loose the most endearing giggle. "George? Is that after the King then?"

"The King?" He paused. "Oh, yes, miss. Indeed."

She smiled again and gazed at him shyly.

"William! Will!" Corinna called. "Take him away! Ghastly beast. Tie him up!"

"Yes, Mother!" he replied, scrambling outside the garden and clapping his hands at the dog. "Come. Stop being a nuisance." He glanced at Katherine. "I'm sorry, miss."

"Oh, he's fine. He's just doing his duty. Don't you fancy dogs?" she asked.

"I don't mind them. Horses I fancy the most."

She smiled softly. "Me, too. Would you like to come by our cottage sometime and see our horses? We have two new foals."

He had never known a girl to be so bold as to ask a boy to come calling at her house. He was so taken aback it took him a moment to find his voice. "Oh. Aye, I would. Thank you."

"Good," she replied.

"Good," he stammered, quickly walking away with his dog.

"There you are," Katherine said with a smile as she fed the new colt an apple. "You like that?" She stroked his pink nose through the fence.

William spotted Katherine at the fence and approached her, removing his hat and clearing his throat.

"Miss?" he spoke up.

Katherine spun around, clutching her heart with surprise. William was standing in front of her, his hair neatly combed and his cheeks smooth after a recent shave.

"I'm William," he said nervously. "From the other day? We met in my mother's garden."

"I remember. Do you always sneak up on girls like that?"

"No. No, miss. Never," he blurted. "Your father said I could find you out here and I-I…that is, I…."

She giggled softly. "You can put your hat back on. I'm a peasant, not royalty."

"My mother says all women should be treated as queens."

"Does she now? I like your mother."

He was so struck by her beauty he forgot everything he planned to say and suddenly felt very foolish and awkward. "Is that the, um, is that the foal? The colt?"

"Yes, one of them. The other's a filly," she replied, taking a step up onto the lower fence rail. The colt found his mother and raised his head beneath her belly to nurse. "Aren't horses magnificent? I could watch them all day long."

He stared at her, completely mesmerized. "Yes. Yes they are."

"His father's a stallion at some stables outside London, where we used to live. He's the most beautiful sire you've ever seen. His coat looks like chocolate."

He dabbed at his brow with the back of his hand. "Well, I must be getting back. I'm to help my father in the fields today."

Her face fell slightly. "Oh, all right. Mind that hot sun. Don't get burned."

"I won't. Good day." He turned around and walked a few steps, then suddenly spun around. Katherine was climbing up onto the fence to sit on the post as she continued to admire the horses. "Katherine?" he blurted hoarsely.

She glanced at him. "Oh, you're still here?"

He stepped closer to the fence. "Could I…that is, may I. May I call on you again? Miss Katherine."

She brightened a little and gazed back at him. "Yes. You may."

"Thank you," he replied, letting out a sigh of relief. He put his hat back on and quickly headed out toward the road.

She smiled with amusement. "You're welcome, William!" she called.

William spotted one of Katherine's little sisters first, racing among all the large, starched white sheets hanging to dry on the lines just outside their cottage.

"Will!" the little girl cried, her blonde curls tousled and her cheeks flushed as she skipped about.

"Good morrow, lassie," he replied. "Where's Katherine?"

"Katie!" she cried. "Katie! It's William!" She disappeared back into the sheets again.

Katherine appeared a moment later, her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back with a kerchief. Laundry day was always hard work, and she was the oldest and the only child old enough to be capable of much help to her mother. She had three little sisters and a baby brother, but they were all much younger than her and still required a lot of attention and care.

She immediately beamed when she saw William. "How was your trip?" she asked.

"Lovely, lovely," he said. "I, uh, I saw the land I'd like."

"Is it a fine piece of land?"

"Is is fine indeed." He couldn't hold it back any longer. "The bank master has approved my mortgage. I can purchase it."

"Oh, William!" She forgot herself and threw her arms around him. "Then that means we can marry now!"

He gazed at her with all the love in the world. They had only been courting a few months, but they both had known right away they wanted to get married. He bought her a simple engagement ring, though the most expensive he could manage to afford, and he proposed to her out in the fields near the horses she loved so much. She had readily accepted of course, and ran straight home to gush to her mothers and sisters. And then he had gone around to nearby towns, looking to buy a piece of land suitable for farming where they could start their lives together. He found the land he was looking for in Alresford, a town nearby, and his father had helped him to fill out all the paperwork and obtain a sufficient mortgage. He was so thrilled everything was falling into place he just had to give Katherine a kiss.

He caressed her cheek and bent his head, but she stopped him, pressing her hands to his lips.

"No, we mustn't. Mother's just inside," she protested.

"Just one, just one," he whispered, drawing her to him and pressing his lips to hers lovingly. "Oh, how I missed you."

She eyed him wryly. "I knew you would try to steal a kiss."

"I'll steal another," he said playfully, drawing her back to him and kissing her again.

She giggled. "Stop. My mother. My sisters!"

He moved back slightly and held her hand. "I want us to get married right now. I mean, as soon as possible."

"You should talk to my father you know. You haven't."

He gulped slightly. "Your father?"

"Yes. Ask him for my hand properly."

"Oh. Ask him for your hand?"

She giggled. "You're an echo, William."

He took his hat off nervously. "What do I say? How do I do it?"

"I don't know. You're the one who wants to marry me. You'll think of something."

She spun around and disappeared back among the sheets. William stood there a little taken aback for a moment. He loved how bold and self-assured Katherine was. If there was something on her mind she was honest with him about it. She didn't hedge around. He had never known such a strong woman. And yet she was so feminine, so beautiful and loving. He was absolutely dreading having to ask her father such a thing and petrified he might tell them no, but he was far too in love to let his nerves stop him. He would ask her father properly, as she put it, and as soon as possible.

Katherine sat shyly at the table in the main room of the cottage with her mother. Mercifully, her mother had sent her little brother and sisters outside to play so there would be a little quiet in the house. Her father was standing beside the hearth puffing on his pipe as William nervously stood before him, cap in his hands, and asked for Katherine's hand.

William had known from the day he first met her he wanted to marry her. He absolutely adored everything about her, from her beautiful laugh to her lively, carefree personality to her sensitivity and big, gentle heart. Her father had educated her himself, and she could read quite well. She read to him from all her favorite poetry books and novels and he soon found he appreciated the beautiful prose, too. She often talked about teaching the children they hoped to be blessed with to love the great English authors and poets as well.

William's parents approved of the match. He was going to be a farmer, and Katherine was a farmer's daughter. She knew what it took to run a farm and she would likely make a good wife for him. Katherine's parents had reservations about how young they were, but they too soon recognized how well-suited they were for each other.

"Where is this property you purchased did you say?" Katherine's father asked sternly.

"Alresford, sir."

"Good town. Along the river. Not too far."

"Yes, sir."

He puffed on his pipe for a long moment. "When you've built my daughter a proper place to live on that land, you may have her hand."

William looked at him flabbergasted for a moment. He supposed he was expecting a bit more of a fight from Katherine's father. Suddenly her father burst into laughter at the look on the young man's face.

"You can marry her, son! Yes, I'm giving you her hand!" he told him.

He glanced at Katherine, who was beaming. Her mother clasped her arm and smiled as well.

"Yes!" he echoed. He grabbed her father's hand in both of his, shaking it vigorously. "I mean, thank you, sir. Thank you!"

"God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit, bless, preserve, and keep you," the minister recited. Katherine and William stood before the old man patiently. Katherine wore a beautiful headdress of wildflowers and greenery her mother and sisters had sewn for her, and her best Sunday dress. He wore a new shirt and suit coat, a gift from his father. The ceremony took place at Katherine's house, as was customary. Their parents and siblings and a few friends were in attendance, sitting on the benches lined up nearby.

"The Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you," the minister continued, holding up one hand, "and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen."

"Amen," the crowd echoed and everyone clapped.

William turned toward Katherine and gazed at her lovingly. She burst into a smile and tears of joy welled in her eyes. Many people, their mothers included, frowned upon kissing at the end of a wedding. It was far too improper, especially in front of all their family and friends and the town minister as well. But as a compromise, he grasped her left hand and kissed her fingers where he had placed her wedding ring.

"Mrs. Sully," he whispered adoringly.

William gave Katherine a shy glance and tenderly found her hand beneath the covers. They were resting silently in the cool night air, neither quite sure what the proper thing was to say. He contemplated saying nothing and just going to sleep, but that didn't seem right either.

Finally he cleared his throat. "Kath? Are you all right?"

She shifted a bit to look at him. "Yes. And you?"

"Was it … I mean was I … " He cleared his throat again. "Were you pleased?"

She silenced him with a soft kiss to his flushed lips. "Most pleased."

"Oh, good," he murmured, feeling a little better. He snuggled her closer. "Our house is lovely."

"We still have a lot to do. Do you suppose you might build us a bookshelf?" She pointed toward their small hearth, bathed in shadows. "We could put it just there, above the mantle."

"A bookshelf? That's a strange request."

"Yes, to put our books. It's not strange."

"Oh, well, I don't have any books."

She glanced at him in disbelief. "Don't have any books? Not even poetry?"

"I never did read very much poetry. I've read a few plays. Shakespeare. But those are my mother's books."

"Oh, I fancy Shakespeare. He wrote some nice sonnets. But Lord Byron's my favorite."

"Lord Byron?" he murmured. "Is he English?"

Now she looked all but flabbergasted. "You've never heard of him!?"

"No, I haven't."

"Then I'll have to introduce you." She gazed up at the ceiling blissfully. "And thou art dead, as young and fair, As aught of mortal birth. And form so soft, and charms so rare, too soon return'd to Earth."

He swallowed, not quite sure what to say. "Oh. Well, it's um…it's sad."

"That's not the point, William," she said a little impatiently. "Just listen to the prose. Listen to what he does with the English language."

"I fear I've married a scholar," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "And I'm just a farmer."

"Scholar, no," she admonished with a chuckle. "But Lord Byron, he speaks to my heart. He'll speak to yours, you'll see. You have to get used to him."

He caressed her cheek and gave her a slow, soft kiss. "My heart's quite busy at the moment."

She smiled and shyly wrapped one arm around his strong muscles.

"Do you suppose we might have, we might have made a baby?" he asked.

She shyly bit her lip. "I don't know. Perhaps. That would be nice. I'll say a prayer tonight."

"It would be nice if we had some sons. For the farm."

"I'd like sons, too. Lord willing. But, could I have my bookshelf first? Please? I have a great deal of books I'd like to bring from home."

He chuckled. "Yes, I'll make you your bookshelf. Whatever you desire, my Katherine. You're going to have everything."

Katherine laid her three-year-old son in her bed and covered him warmly. Her husband didn't like the baby in bed with them and he was always making her put him in his crib, but tonight she was so angry with William she didn't care. He had gone off to the town pub and had been missing for five hours now.

"Goodnight, Will, darling," she whispered, smoothing the baby's hair.

Katherine had become pregnant on their wedding night just as they had hoped, and nine months later delivered a big healthy boy they named William Sully the third, and called him Will for short. William was thrilled she had borne a son, and the baby was the joy of their lives when nothing else around them was going as planned. Their first year it rained so much the corn and wheat and watercress were all meager crops and at harvest time they barely broke even. When the baby turned one, the frosts came early and destroyed almost everything. When Will turned two, a severe drought swept across England and the greater part of Western Europe, and people began heading for America in droves. William wanted to follow them and told Katherine as much, but she cried for a week about how much she would miss her mother and father and brother and sisters and England's beautiful countryside. He felt so terrible he promised her they would stay on and try it again the next year.

When little Will was almost three, Katherine realized she was with child again. When she told William they would be welcoming another baby the following Christmas, he panicked and took off to drown his troubles in liquor at the town pub all night when he was never really a drinking man.

William suddenly barged inside, staggering and red-faced.

"William!" she cried, rushing to him.

He haphazardly pulled off his wrap. "Kath. I'm home, Kath," he slurred.

"Good Lord, look at yourself," she scolded.

He wrapped his arm around her and tried to plant a big kiss on her lips. "Come here. Come here." He kissed her roughly.

"Stop it!" she cried, pushing on his chest. "William, don't. You're drunk!"

"You're right. We shouldn't. This is how we got in this predicament in the first place."

She looked up at him crossly. "Go to bed. We'll talk when you're sober."

"I'm sober," he protested. "Or bloody nearly there."

"Oh, for God sake. Come along," she said, grabbing his arm and leading him to their bed. She moved the baby aside and then helped William into bed. He gazed at her adoringly as she unlaced his muddy boots.

"Katherine, we're nineteen years old," he said.

"You're nineteen. I'm eighteen," she corrected.

"We're about to have another child to provide for, and we're at least eighty pounds in debt, not to mention the mortgage."

She softened a little and gently caressed his thigh. "William, darling, we'll see us through this together."

"How?" he whispered. "Kath, there's nothing for us here."

"You promised me. One more year," she said. "Have a go at one more crop. William? You promised."

"Aye, that I did," he replied.

"It'll be a good crop this year then. Everyone says it's going to be a good year. Don't fret, William. It's going to be a good year, I just know it."

William ran the tips of his fingers across the cornstalks. They were dry and wilting, struggling to make it through another long, sweltering English summer. He took off his cap and brushed off the dust, heaving a sigh.

"William!" Katherine called as she made her way down one of the corn rows, carrying a bucket and a ladle and their toddler on her hip.

"You shouldn't be lifting him in your condition," he replied, taking their little boy from her and patting his back.

"Nonsense, I feel fine."

"Pa!" Will cried with a giggle. "Cown! Get it!"

"Yes. Go play, Will," he instructed, putting him on his feet.

Will screamed and ran down one of the rows, holding his hands out like a souring bird.

William eyed a cornstalk that was limp and dried up. "Dead," he whispered, trying to yank it up furiously.

"Darling, take some water, take a sip," she pleaded, dipping the ladle into the bucket. "You're going to faint dead away out here."

He ignored her and yanked harder on the cornstalk, growling. "God damn it!"

"William! Stop!" she cried, grabbing his arm.

He backed up, panting, and looked at her. She was terrified. He put his arm around her, kissing her head.

"Shh. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kath."

She hugged him tightly. "William, darling, we'll find a way. God will provide."

He held her close, glancing at her growing belly. She had such faith that things were going to be fine, but with the drought continuing like this for another year now, he didn't see how.