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Michaela turned the page of a history book, revealing a sketch of a pilgrim and a Wampanoag Indian standing together. Byron and Katie sat on either side of her, listening attentively as she paraphrased from the text, scaling down the lesson into terms they could understand easier.
"They were very brave," Michaela went on. "They traveled to a whole new place they had never seen before and made a new life there. Everything in America was different. The food, the animals, the land, the weather. And they'd never even seen an Indian before."
"They're like us, Mama," Katie said. "We moved to Yosemite."
"A whole new place. We're just like the pilgrims," Byron added.
Michaela paused. "Yes. I suppose in a way."
Brian looked up from his own history book, his elbows resting on the table. "We ain't exactly like them. I don't think we'll be sharin' our Thanksgivin' with the Miwoks."
"Brian," Michaela scolded.
Brian sighed, closing his book. "The pilgrims settled in Plymouth in a real big group. They were already a whole town, B."
Michaela put her arm around Byron. "He's right. It's just us out here."
"Us, and Luke and Jim!" Katie said, sliding off the end of the bench and rushing to the window.
Byron followed her, lifting the latch of the door and opening it as the boys sauntered up to the porch, their hands stuffed in their pockets.
"Good morning," Michaela called, rising from the table and walking to the door.
"Good mornin', ma'am," Luke said. "Our ma says we're gettin' in her hair. She sent us out to take a walk."
"Can Katie and Byron come play?" Jim put in.
Michaela glanced back at the table. "I'm afraid you caught us right in the middle of a history lesson, Jim."
Byron grasped her blouse sleeve hopefully. "We can do it later maybe, Mama? Please can we play? Only for a little bit."
Michaela smoothed back his hair, softening. Jim and Luke were all Byron talked about since he had met them. It was clear the little boy looked up to the older children and was delighted the two were willing to let him tag along. "All right. I suppose the pilgrims can wait. But just this once."
"Goodie!" Byron gasped, hugging her waist.
"I don't want you wandering too far from the clearing," she said, eyeing the four children sternly. "And no going near the lake."
"We won't, Mama!" Katie immediately replied.
Byron beamed up at the older boys. "Wanna see my marbles? I'll go get them."
Luke chuckled, nodding. "Sure, kid. Let's see 'em."
* * *
Luke stood up, brushing off his hands on his trousers. "Yeah, I've had enough of this. Come on."
The younger children stood up, abandoning the marbles and following Luke's lead into the dense forest.
"Mama said no wandering," Katie said hesitantly.
"No, she said don't go too far," Jim corrected. "Don't worry, we won't. Hey, I know! You can be the girl and we'll be the cowboys."
"But I am already a girl!" Katie protested.
Jim laughed. "I know that, silly. I just mean me and Luke and Byron get to save ya if an Injun or a grizzly or somethin' comes after ya."
"With my slingshot," Byron spoke up. He hesitated, pressing one finger to his chin. "It's Brian's but he lets me hold it."
"No. No, I wanna be a cowboy, too!" Katie retorted.
"Listen, Katie, what good's playin' cowboys if we don't got a girl to save?" Jim said sensibly. "And you're the only one of us I can see in a dress, ain't ya?" He let out a burst of giggles, clutching his stomach. "Or we could put Luke in a dress!"
"You hush up," Luke retorted, stopping in his tracks and peering up at an oak tree. "Hey, lookie here."
"What?" Byron asked, shielding his eyes as he followed the boy's gaze. Situated on a thick branch about six feet up was a sparrow's nest. Inside sat one baby bird, about a week old, squeaking with all its might. His mother was perched in a nearby tree, chirping fiercely in alarm.
"I thought all the birds had finished havin' their families for the year," Luke said. "Ain't this a find!"
"A little bitty baby," Katie said in wonder. "He's hardly got any feathers yet."
Jim jumped up a few times, trying to catch the branch with his hands.
Luke followed his lead, leaping into the air to no avail. Finally, he backed up, out of breath as he eyed the nest. "Byron, come'ere."
Obediently Byron stepped to his side. "Are you gonna climb the tree, Luke?"
"I can't reach," Luke explained. "But let's me and Jim lift you up and you get the baby. Come on."
"But...I don't know-" Byron murmured as the boys got on either side of him and grabbed his waist, hoisting him into the air with ease.
"There ya go," Luke said. "Reach in and pull him out!"
"Whoa, I'm high!" Byron shouted. "Katie, look at me!"
"Byron, you're light but you're not that light," Luke called. "Hurry up before we drop ya!"
"All right, hurry," Byron said. Carefully, he reached his hands into the nest, cupped the baby between them and lifted him from the twigs.
Jim and Luke lowered Byron back to the ground, crouching down to his level.
"Ya get him?" Jim asked. "Oh, ya did!"
"Nice work!" Luke said, patting his back. "You're a pretty handy kid to have around in a fix, ain't ya?"
Byron nodded proudly, holding out the bird for Katie to pet. "He's so little."
"Even Jack was never this little," Katie said.
"I wanna show this to Mama. And Brian and Jack," Byron said. "Let's take him home!"
* * *
"Byron and Katie loved the foods I prepared for them when they were babies," Michaela said as she beat with a fork a mixture of peas, sugar and a little water.
"But do ya have to mash it all up like that?" Brian questioned, glancing down at the baby in her sling uncertainly. "I don't know about this, Jack."
"It's much easier on their stomachs this way and besides he can't chew just yet," Michaela explained, chuckling as Brian recoiled away from the kitchen table and stood safely back by the fireplace. She took a seat with the bowl, a napkin and a small spoon, dipped the spoon into the pureed vegetable and gently nudged it between the baby's lips. "There, sweetheart. Your first taste of solid food." She smiled proudly as the baby pursed his lips, swallowed and squeezed up his eyes.
"Jack, do ya see what you're eatin'?" Brian exclaimed. "A green mush!"
Michaela gave the baby another spoonful, her smile widening. "He likes it. Jack, wait until we tell Daddy what you did today! What a big boy you are."
"Oh, look at him, Ma," Brian said, slowly returning to the table. "You're right, he does like it."
Michaela handed Brian the spoon and picked up the napkin, catching a dribble of green sliding down the baby's chin. "You take a turn feeding him, Brian," she instructed wryly. "I'll wipe up the spills."
Brian sat down next to her and gave Jack a bite of the peas, smoothing the baby's fair wisps of hair with his free hand. "He's smilin' a little. See, Ma?"
"He likes having his big brother help out," Michaela said, kissing the baby's head lovingly. "Sully and I appreciate your help with the baby so much, Brian. I don't even have to so much as ask and you're always right here lending a hand."
Brian smiled. "I like havin' a baby brother again. Babies can be fun sometimes." He chuckled. "Other times they're sure a lotta work, ain't they? I think I better be prepared before I'm a pa someday. I sure ain't ready for all this just yet."
Michaela patted his arm. "I'm so glad to hear you say that."
"I think I'll stick with just bein' the big brother for now," he replied, tickling Jack's chin and giving him another spoonful of the mashed peas.
Katie lifted the latch and held the door open for Byron. "We're back," she called.
"Oh, did Jim and Luke go home?" Michaela asked, looking up from the baby.
"They had to go for lunch," Katie explained.
"Mama, look what we found!" Byron exclaimed, hurrying to the table and opening his hands. "I got him all by myself."
Michaela peered into his hands, drawing in her breath. The little bird fluttered his wings and chirped frantically. "Oh. Oh, Brynie."
"Luke said I can keep him," he told her resolutely. "'Cause I was the one that got him from the nest."
"Sweetheart, oh," Michaela said. "Why did you do this?"
He swallowed, meeting her eyes. "Luke and Jim helped me reach, Mama."
"Think about the baby bird," Michaela said. "Look how frightened he is. He must miss his mama and his home. And his mama must be missing him."
Katie stroked the little bird's head with her finger. "We're sorry, baby bird."
Michaela caressed his cheek. "Byron, we must never remove an animal from its natural setting, from the home it knows, unless that animal is hurt or sick and we can help him get better. This bird certainly isn't hurt. You shouldn't have done this, sweetheart."
Byron gazed at the bird guiltily. "Oh. Then I'll put him back."
Brian patted his back sympathetically. "Ya can't do that, B. See, when ya touch a bird like this, the mother smells your scent on him and won't take him back in. How ya gonna feed it? Teach it how to fly? It needs his ma for all that, B. He can't make it otherwise."
A tear fell down the little boy's cheek. "Ya mean he's gonna die now?"
Brian met his mother's eyes. "I guess we could try to take care of it. But that ain't gonna be easy."
Michaela hesitated, swiping away Byron's tear. "Let's wait until Sully gets home. We'll see what he has to say."
* * *
"Are ya mad, Papa?" the little boy asked hesitantly.
Sully glanced at Michaela, seated on the other side of the table next to Katie. "No, son. Just disappointed. I thought ya knew better than this."
Byron hung his head, nodding quietly.
"That's an old wive's tale, that the mother won't take him back," Sully added.
"It is?" Brian questioned, joining them at the table. "I thought for sure she'd abandon the nest."
"Not right off. You return him soon enough, she'll take him in. It don't matter how much ya touch 'em."
"Byron, do you remember where the nest was?" Michaela asked hopefully.
The little boy pursed his lips. "I don't know. In the woods," he said quietly. "I don't know. I just followed Luke."
Brian sighed. "Oh, B. There's a million trees around here and you don't even remember which direction ya took. Even if his ma would take him back in you'll never be able to find the nest again. Good goin'. B. Ya've really done it this time."
"Brian," Michaela said softly. "He already feels bad enough."
"Papa? Do I get punished now?" Byron spoke up bravely.
Sully rested his hand on his shoulder. "Byron, you took this bird from his nest, now you gotta be his pa. That includes makin' him a warm box to sleep in inside the shed, cleanin' up after him, and helpin' him walk and fly. You'll dig up worms for him and feed him, too. He ain't a pet so when he's big enough, we'll bring him back to the woods and let him go."
Byron nodded. "All right."
"Go on and get a shovel," Sully instructed. "Baby birds eat a lot. You're gonna be doin' a lot of diggin'. Best get a start on it."
"But I don't know how to dig worms," he whispered.
Brian took his hand. "Come on, B. I'll teach ya."
Byron paused, meeting his father's eyes. "I'm really sorry, Papa."
Sully drew him close, kissing his head. "I know. But you're gonna right your wrong now. Ya take good care of this bird and make me proud, all right?"
Michaela stood up and retrieved a small wooden bowl from the shelf. "You can put the worms in here," she said, handing it to Byron and watching as the boys ventured out into the yard.
Sully breathed a sigh as he lifted the little bird into his palm. "I thought we told him animals are for watchin', not touchin'."
"I thought so, too," Michaela replied, taking a seat next to him. "Apparently he forgot."
"Luke had him do it," Katie spoke up. "He couldn't reach so he had him."
"Those boys used Byron to further their own mischief, Sully," Michaela said. "I can't believe he just went along with them."
"Byron's gotta learn to listen to what we taught him, no matter what everybody else is doin'," Sully said.
"Taking responsibility for his actions will be a good first lesson in that," Michaela replied. "I'm glad you're having him care for the bird. I think it's going to be good for him."
* * *
Smiling softly, Michaela gave Katie's cheek a kiss and quietly stood up, glancing at the blanket nearby where Sully and Brian were packing the remains of their picnic lunch into the basket.
It had been a wonderfully relaxing Sunday morning. She and Sully put together a generous meal, dressed the children in hats and thin long sleeves to protect them from the sun, and piled everyone into the rowboat. Sully brought them across the sparkling clear water to a grassy shore on the other side, the towering mountains of the Sierras before them. They ate sandwiches, chattered, laughed, watched deer step to the shore to drink and butterflies and hummingbirds feast on the nectar of flowers of all colors. Michaela couldn't think of a more appropriate place to spend the Lord's Day of rest, surrounded by such divine magnificence.
Sully placed the last few stray forks and spoons into the basket and stood up, holding his hand out to Michaela.
"They asleep?" he whispered.
She took his hand, nodding.
"Wanna take a little ride of our own?" he asked, nodding at the boat with a mischievous smile.
Brian pulled from his knapsack a book he had brought along for the trip and stretched out on the blanket on his side. "Go on, Ma. I'll keep an eye on everyone."
Michaela glanced back at the children. "If you're sure it's all right."
He flipped the book open to a marked page. "The Dr. Mike needs some more breakin' in. Go on and take her out again."
The grin still on his lips, Sully led Michaela down to the boat and gave her a hand inside. He untied the rope from the nearby tree and threw it inside, climbing in and picking up the oars.
"Where to?" he said, digging the oars into the cool water.
Michaela gazed up at the mountains, resting her hands in her lap. "It doesn't matter. Everywhere I look is so beautiful."
He smiled, rowing them toward the center of the lake. "The children liked the picnic."
"Yes, they did," she replied. "I just wish you could do things with us more often. You work so much."
"I know. We're real busy tryin' to keep on schedule," he said, a trace of guilt in his voice as he drew the oars into the boat and allowed them to drift. "But when we're together, the time's all the more special."
"Yes," she murmured, reaching her hands out to clasp his. "Sully? I'm sorry about last week. About supper with the Donovan's, I mean. I didn't intend to enter into a disagreement with Carrie."
"It's all right," he said, shrugging ever so slightly. "You're two real different people. It's bound to happen."
"But I didn't have a right to be angry with you afterward," Michaela said. "None of it was your fault. And I shouldn't have been so unforgiving about Thaddeus. You're right, he's helped us out so much."
He pressed his thumb to the back of her hand. "I know his manners ain't the best. And you're right, too, it ain't settin' such a good example for the kids. But as for bein' honest, straight-forward, as far as I'm concerned Thaddeus is the best example they could have."
"And their pa," Michaela added, absently letting one arm fall outside the boat and dipping her fingers into the water.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, one hand caressing her thigh. "I love ya," he whispered. "Even when ya get angry at me."
She smiled. "I love you, too. And I'm sorry."
He slowly sat back. "The Donovans are a lot different from our family. Havin' everybody get along ain't gonna be easy. But they're our only neighbors. Jim and Luke may be the only other kids Byron and Katie see while we're here. We gotta try an' make it work, at least for their sake. Think of it as...an adventure."
She chuckled, nodding. "All right. An adventure." Mischievously, she brought her fingers out of the water and flicked a shower of droplets onto his face.
Sully brought his hand up to his cheeks, wiping it away. "Hey!" he said, feigning irritation.
She giggled, cupping her hand, digging it into the water and giving his face a liberal splash.
"All right, ya wanna get wet?" he shouted, standing up unsteadily.
"You wouldn't!" she exclaimed. "Sully, no!"
Eyeing her playfully, he grabbed one side of the boat, put all his weight on the other side, and flipped the boat over, sending them to the water with a thunderous splash.
Michaela came up from the water, gasping for air and letting out a startled shriek. "Sully!"
He emerged beside her, shaking the water from his hair with a wide grin. "How's it feel?"
She glared at him furiously as they treaded water. "I can't believe you just did that."
"We needed to cool off anyway," he said, kissing her cheek and then swimming a few lengths back to the boat.
"Well, we've certainly accomplished that," she said, shaking her head as he turned the boat upright. "I can't believe you, Sully."
"Pa!" Brian yelled. "Pa! Ma!"
Sully turned around, spotting the boy at the edge of the water. "We're all right," he called back, waving his hand.
"Just a little spill, Brian!" Michaela added.
"No! Look!" he cried, pointing across the lake. "The cabin! Pa!"
Michaela and Sully followed his gaze, expressions of lightheartedness dampening into intense alarm.
"It's on fire. The cabin's on fire," Sully murmured, watching disbelievingly as thick black smoke bellowed from their roof up into the clear summer sky.
"Oh, my God," Michaela murmured, her attention turning to the shore where they gathered water each day. There stood a gray spotted horse, drinking his fill while he waited for his master to return. "That's the Indian's. The Miwok who came inside our cabin. I recognize it. That's his horse, Sully!"
Moments later the Indian circled to the back of their cabin and into view, a smoking torch in one hand as he peered out at the lake with unbending eyes. He spotted Michaela and Sully, dropped the torch to the ground and ran to his horse, quickly mounting.
"Get in the boat," Sully said, turning back around to face her. "Get in!" He pushed Michaela haphazardly over the edge of the rowboat and hoisted himself in after her. As quickly as he could he leaned back over the edge and grabbed the oars floating nearby.
"The children, Sully," Michaela said tearfully. "Jack!"
"We'll get to 'em. Just hang on," he replied, positioning the oars in their cradles. Mustering all the strength and determination he had, he rapidly pumped the oars back and forth. Within a few minutes, out of breath and unable to speak, he had the little boat ashore.
Michaela jumped into the shallow water and climbed onto the grassy earth, grasping Brian's arm. "Help me get the children. Hurry!"
"It's the Indian, Ma!" Brian told her. "He's tryin' to smoke us out!"
"I know. We saw him," Michaela said, lifting her wet skirts and running to the blanket under the tree. "We've got to get everyone in the boat and go back."
She grabbed Jack from the blanket, immediately waking him and setting him crying, and gave Katie and Byron's backs several firm shakes.
"Wake up. Wake up, Katie," she shouted. "Get up!"
Byron rolled over onto his back, rubbing his eyes. "Mama, you're all wet!"
"Stand up, sweetheart," Michaela said, her voice unsteady. "Go to Papa over in the boat. Hurry."
"Come on, Katie," Brian said, lifting her to her feet. "Come on, let's go!"
"Where we goin'?" Katie asked sluggishly, blinking at the sunlight.
Michaela grabbed Byron's hand and led him toward the shore. "We have to go back now. There's a fire at our house."
"Wait, my hat!" Katie cried, turning back around.
Brian took her hand, pulling her forward. "There ain't time!"
Michaela reached shore and stepped back into the water as Sully held his hands out for Byron.
"The picnic basket, Papa!" Byron said, pointing up shore. "The blanket!"
"Forget it! Get in!" he shouted, taking him from Michaela and settling him at the back of the boat as Brian lifted Katie into the front.
Sully grabbed Brian's hand and helped him over the side. "Michaela! Let's go!"
Michaela gave the baby to Brian and climbed in, sitting beside Katie. "Hold on tight, sweetheart, all right?"
"Mama, our house is on fire," she said, pointing at the smoke.
"The Indian left. I saw him take off," Brian said, putting Jack over his shoulder and rubbing his back. "Pa, are we gonna lose the cabin?"
Panic rushing through him, Sully began rowing fiercely. "It looks like it's just the roof that's burnin' right now. There's still time." He gave Michaela's foot a nudge with his, gaining her attention. "When we get there, you stay with the kids by the water where they'll be safe. Brian and I'll get buckets, try an' stop the fire."
* * *
"Thank God," Michaela said, smoothing a trace of soot from his cheek. She was seated on a fallen log, the baby in her lap and the children cuddled against her.
Brian trudged to the edge of the water and sat down beside his father, grabbing his knees and lowering his head.
Sully patted his back firmly. "Ya all right, son?"
"Yeah. Just out of breath," Brian replied, running the back of his hand across his brow.
Sully stood back up, caressing Michaela's shoulder. "As far as we can tell, all it did was put a hole in the roof. We'll just have to repair it."
"Let's go look at the damage," Michaela said, taking Byron's hand and heading them up the bank.
Steam rose from the charred gape in the roof a few feet wide that the blaze had made. Water from bucket after bucket Sully and Brian had poured onto the flames dripped down the shingles and onto the ground.
"We can fix it," Sully said.
Michaela nodded, grasping the door latch. "It's not that large. I imagine the water might have done some damage inside though." She stopped short, mouth dropping as she let the door swing open on its own.
Brian took a tentative step forward, stunned. "I don't believe it! He turned the place upside down!"
Sully stepped in front of Michaela and entered the room, glancing around. The Miwok had thrown to the ground every plate, cup, saucer, pot and pan. Their table and benches were overturned, the quilts on their beds were ripped off and the crate with the school supplies had been tossed to the floor, books, slates and loose papers having fallen everywhere. Even Jack's cradle was turned on its side, his rattle and blankets scattered nearby.
"Why'd he do this, Mama?" Byron said, voice unsteady. "Doesn't he like us?"
Michaela smoothed back his hair reassuringly. "He just doesn't know we want to be friends, sweetheart."
"He's angry, son," Sully added softly.
"I'd say so," Brian muttered, letting out a forceful sigh.
Sully picked up a bench and turned it upright. "Let's get this cleaned up."
Michaela crossed the room, righted Jack's cradle and settled him in it. Then she stood up and turned to Katie and Byron, resting her hands on their shoulders. "Why don't you pick up our bed things off the floor? Think you can do that?"
Katie nodded obediently. "We'll help make the beds, too, Mama."
"We'll help," Byron added.
"Good," Michaela replied, smiling encouragingly. She walked to the fireplace and found the broom and dustpan resting against one side of the stones. "More glass to clean up," she remarked absently.
"Be careful, Michaela," Sully spoke up. "There's a lot of it."
"I will. I have experience with this," she said, her weak attempt to lighten the mood failing miserably.
Sully nodded at Brian. "Come here. Help me turn the table."
Brian remained in his place for a moment, gazing at his father, then crossed the room determinedly, grabbed the rifle from above the mantel with one hand and the box of bullets below it with the other.
"Brian," Sully said firmly. "Ya put that down and help me with the table now."
The boy ignored him, turning for the door and walking outside.
"Sully," Michaela said restlessly. "Sully, what's he doing?"
"I'll talk to him," Sully replied, heading for the door.
Brian sunk into the bench on the porch and clicked back the barrel of the rifle, pulling a thick brass bullet from the box and sliding it into place.
Sully strolled over to the bench, clutching one of the posts of the porch. "What're ya fixin' to do, son?"
"Find him," Brian said vehemently. "Find him and do what I shoulda done the first time we saw him."
"Ya think that's gonna help things?" Sully said calmly.
"What if we were in there, Pa?" he demanded, looking up. "What if Ma and the kids were inside?"
"They weren't."
"You weren't here!" he retorted. "You weren't here when he first came inside! Do you know what he coulda done to us? I'd never been so...so scared."
"He had no reason to harm ya. There's nothin' we had that he wanted, Brian," Sully said.
"He wanted Katie's scalp, that's what he wanted!" Brian said, voice unsteady. "Pa, with you at work...I feel responsible for Ma, the kids. If anything ever happened...it'd be my fault."
Sully laid his hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate ya lookin' after things here, takin' the job so seriously. I can always depend on ya. But I've always tried to teach ya that we only turn to violence as a last resort."
"You think I like carryin' this gun?" Brian replied. "But I got no choice. When ya gonna see these ain't the Cheyenne? It's different. We gotta defend ourselves!"
Sully stepped closer to him, pointing his finger at the boy's chest. "You listen to me. You find him and shoot him the rest of his tribe is gonna find out soon enough. Next thing ya know they'll all be comin' to our cabin and after more than just one scalp."
"What're we supposed to do?" Brian demanded. "Stay here like sittin' ducks till they kill us? I'm tired of this, Pa. I'm goin' after him."
"Hang on. I got a better idea," Sully said, laying his hand on the boy's back.
"Sully, please don't go," Michaela pleaded, grasping his shirtsleeves and drawing him to her once more. "He'll kill you. I know he will. You can't go."
"We gotta let 'em know we're peaceful, Michaela," Sully replied, rubbing her back with one hand, the other clutching the reins of his horse.
"At least take the rifle, then," she said. "Even if you don't load it."
"We can't," he murmured. "We can't show up at their camp with weapons. It'll send all the wrong ideas."
"We'll be all right, Ma," Brian spoke up, mounting his horse. "Don't worry."
She held Sully tighter, shaking her head. Sully and Brian were determined to show the Indians in the area they wanted to be friendly. They planned to follow the Indian's tracks to his camp and approach the Miwok people there with gifts of biscuits and bread Michaela had baked that morning before everything had happened.
As much as Michaela wanted the Miwoks to know they could all coexist, she didn't like Brian and Sully riding out to their camp alone. It seemed no matter how much she protested, however, they weren't going to change their plans.
"Sully, couldn't you just leave the food at the edge of their camp?" Michaela said desperately. "You could just drop it there and then turn around."
"How's that gonna help anything?" Brian said. "We gotta do this face to face, Ma."
Sully drew in his breath, glancing at Brian and then Michaela. "All right. We'll leave it at the edge of camp."
"But, Pa-" Brian protested.
Sully waved his hand, quieting him. "We'll just leave it, all right?" he murmured, kissing Michaela's head. "We'll be home soon."
She nodded bravely. "Hurry."
He backed up and mounted his horse. "We won't be long."
Brian held up his lantern and led them into the woods, eyes focused on the tracks in front of him. "Pa, I don't know if this is worth it if all we're gonna do is drop the food and turn around."
"Your ma's gonna feel a lot better if she thinks that's what's happenin'," Sully said.
Brian drew in his breath. "Then ya lied to her?"
Sully swallowed. "I can't stand her worryin' like that, Brian. You're right, doin' this with them face to face is the only way. She don't see that and don't wanna see that. Sometimes ya gotta stretch the truth a little to protect folks."
"I don't think Ma wants to be protected," Brian said.
"Let's just worry about gettin' us home safe like we promised her," Sully replied.
* * *
Katie nodded, reaching her hand up to rub her eyes. Michaela had waited for Sully and Brian for an hour, standing at their window and peering out it for any sign of their return. She had long stopped believing that Sully was merely going to drop the food at the edge of camp. She knew her husband too well and now she feared for his life. The only thing left to do was to find help. She got the children out of bed, tucked Jack in a blanketed basket and lifted everyone into the wagon. Half an hour later, she was standing in front of the Donovan's door, knocking on it ardently.
"Mrs. Sully!" Thaddeus exclaimed, throwing back the door. "What in thunder's goin' on?"
"Oh, Mr. Donovan. Sully and Brian went to find the Miwok camp," Michaela explained. "I don't know what to do. What if they're captured or worse yet-?"
"Went to find the Miwok camp? What put that fool idea in their head?" he demanded as Carrie appeared beside him in her bathrobe.
"This afternoon an Indian came to our cabin while we were rowing on the lake," Michaela said. "He threw our things everywhere and then burned a hole right through the roof."
"Good Lord!" Carrie cried. "Is everybody all right?"
"We're all fine, thankfully," Michaela replied. "But Sully and Brian went to make peace. I just couldn't wait at home any longer."
"What's goin' on, Ma?" Luke called down from the loft behind the fireplace. "War party?"
"Hush! You boys get back in bed!" Carrie scolded.
"Don't worry, ma'am," Thaddeus said, lifting his deer hide coat off the hook inside. "I've dealt with these Injuns for years. I'd even call a few of 'em my friends. They can be an ornery bunch sometimes, but they're evenhanded people. I'll reason with 'em."
"I'm going with you," Michaela said.
He laughed. "Now, Mrs. Sully. You wait here and I'll have 'em back in no time."
"No, Mr. Donovan. I'm going," she retorted. "My husband and child are out there."
"Let her go, Thaddeus," Carrie said, stepping out the door, helping Byron and Katie to the ground and picking up the basket with Jack. "You can leave your youn'uns with me, Mrs. Sully."
* * *
"It's a small camp," Sully whispered. "Thaddeus says most of the bands here have either broken up or joined with other tribes." He squeezed Brian's shoulder reassuringly. "Way I figure, it wouldn't make sense to hurt us. Just like we know if we hurt them the whole tribe's gonna come after us, they know they hurt us, folks are gonna come after them."
Brian nodded. "You're right. It wouldn't make sense."
"Let's do this. Put your hands in the air. Show 'em we don't have anythin'."
Brian obeyed, raising his arms high.
Sully cleared his throat. "Hah-ho!" he called, his voice echoing throughout the woods. He knew the word would probably be unfamiliar to the Miwoks, but he wanted to greet the band with what he hoped could transcend language barriers.
"Hah-ho!" Brian echoed.
Within a few seconds the elders of the tribe had gathered in the center of camp, all with a deerskin around their waists like the Indian who had come to the cabin. Several had a bone piercing in their nose or ear, and the men of the tribe sported thin, black tattoo markings down their chins and necks. They eyed Sully and Brian and talked rapidly to each other, their expressions unbending.
Sully slowly approached the group, pressing his hand to his chest. "Sully," he said. "I'm Sully." He held out the sack of food determinedly, placing it on the ground. A young Indian snatched it up and pulled out a biscuit, sniffing it suspiciously.
Sully offered up his hand. "Me and my son have a cabin nearby. I know ya've seen us. We wanna live in peace with ya. We don't want blood."
The men stared at his hand, a few whispering to each other.
Sully carefully brought his hand back to his chest and lifted a string of red and white beads from his neck, holding them out. "Here. Take it. I just ask for your friendship in return."
"...I told ya, Pa," Brian said. "They don't wanna be friends."
"Just wait, Brian," Sully replied. "Give 'em some time to warm up to us."
Brian watched as a young Miwok stepped forward, his long, thin hair and black eyes belonging to the same man who had come into the cabin. He grabbed the beads from Sully, eyed them with revulsion and threw them to the dirt.
"Ehwootoo!" he growled, eyes fixed on Sully's as he slid a knife from his boot.
Sully raised his hands back in the air. "Wait. We can work this out. If it's the land you're after we can share it!"
"Sully!" Michaela cried.
Sully spun around, voice catching in his throat. Michaela and Thaddeus came into view, riding their horses up to the confrontation.
"Sully, ya fool! Look at the mess ya've got yourself in!" Thaddeus exclaimed, jumping down from his horse. "This ain't gonna be easy to right." Immediately he began speaking in the Native tongue of the Miwoks, setting the elders at ease. Slowly, even the Miwok who had burned their cabin lowered his knife. It was clear the Indians recognized him and had made many contacts with him in the past.
"What're ya doin' here?" Sully blurted, taking Michaela's hand as she dismounted.
"I'm sorry," she replied, clutching his arm. "I couldn't sit at home. I was so frightened for you both. I'm sorry but I had to find help."
"And not a moment too soon," Thaddeus said, turning to Sully and Michaela with his arms crossed. "All right. They're piping mad but I think they're gonna leave ya be. Only 'cause you're a friend of mine, mind ya. They say they want ya off the land."
Sully nodded. "Tell 'em we understand they're unhappy and we wanna negotiate."
"Negotiate? What?" Thaddeus retorted. "Ya gotta be firm, Sully. That land is yours now, not theirs."
"But it ain't my land," Sully replied. "I'm just stayin' on it for a little while. They're welcome to hunt on it, trap and fish. Tell 'em I wanna share it."
"Now sharin', that's a concept they don't really understand," Thaddeus said. "They stay here at their little camp and you stay there at your cabin on your land and everybody's happy. Ya don't have to give in. There's no more than fourteen souls in this here band. Why, us and the rest of the men on Harper's team outnumber them three to one. They know that good as you and me."
"Tell 'em I wanna share," Sully said resolutely.
Thaddeus sighed, turning to face the Indians. They bickered for several minutes until finally Thaddeus faced Sully again. "No, it's no good. No sharin'. They want ya off, plain and simple."
"Tell 'em I'm sorry," Sully said. "I'm sorry but I can't do that. I'd like to talk to 'em about what I'm doin' here, helpin' preserve this land."
"That's all well and good but they don't feel like listenin' right now," Thaddeus replied. "They want us to get back on our horses and go." He glanced at the satchel of biscuits. "Even Mrs. Sully's fine cookin' can't win these people over. Let's get out of here 'fore their tempers flare any more."
* * *
"I'll get the roof patched tomorrow afternoon, after work," Sully whispered.
She nodded. "Thank you."
He caressed her shoulder from behind, the cotton of her nightgown smooth and snug to the touch. "Michaela? Are you all right?"
She swallowed hard. "Still a little shaken I suppose."
He placed her brush beside him, dropping one leg to the floor and shifting to face her. "I hate seein' ya lookin' so worried," he said, planting a comforting kiss at the corner of her lips. "It's gonna be all right."
"You said that the first time we saw the Indian," she contended. "And look what's happened since. Our cabin nearly burned to the ground."
He took her hand, squeezing it tight. "Maybe they wanna rile us up a little but they don't wanna hurt us. Why didn't that Indian set fire to the cabin while we were inside? Ya see? He waited until we were away, safe from harm."
"A mere coincidence we weren't home," she replied.
"No. It wasn't," he protested. "Listen, Thaddeus is gonna teach me some Miwok words. Next time I see 'em I'll try an' talk to them. You saw how much better they felt around Thaddeus. I wanna win their trust like he has."
"How did Thaddeus come to know them, Sully?" Michaela asked.
"Remember I said they were put on Reservations? Thaddeus was part of that. He was something like an Indian Agent, like I was. But then he started befriendin' some of the men of the tribes, picked up the language. Started realizin' they weren't much different than you and me. Seems he was a real help in gettin' 'em off of those places and back to their homes here."
"I can't help it, Sully," she said unsteadily, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I want to trust them but I can't. When he came inside here, looked at Katie like that. I just knew deep inside me he was going to hurt her. I can't explain it. All I could think was that I had to distract him, even if he came after me instead. And then I started thinking about the baby and wondering if the Indian had even noticed him. There's only one of me. I didn't know how I was going to manage to protect four children. I just knew I wanted him away from them. From me."
He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close. "Shh. I know."
"I know they have no logical reason to hurt us. I know that, Sully. But I can't reason with my instincts."
He kissed her again, lips slowly caressing hers. "I want you and the kids to feel safe here. Ya got nothin' to fear."
"It's just an adjustment, that's all," she murmured. "We're so alone out here. When the children take their naps, the quiet is nice but...sometimes it frightens me."
"Michaela, maybe I pushed everythin' too fast. We'll take things a little easier with the Miwoks. We'll give 'em some time to think about my visit." He secured his arm around her back and guided her to the pillows, eyes locked lovingly with hers. "We're still gettin' adjusted to life here, you're right. But it's just gonna get easier, I promise ya. It's gonna feel like home real soon." He kissed her tenderly, pulling back a minute later and raising one finger. He stood up, drew the hanging sheets closed around them, and crawled back onto the bed. "Did I tell ya how much I was hopin' you'd show up when Brian and me got ourselves in that mess?"
"Really?" she murmured, caressing his cheek.
He chuckled. "I guess we were in a little over our heads."
"I'm glad I came to the rescue," she said wryly.
"Michaela, don't ya see? You're never gonna be alone in this place," he whispered, working his hand beneath her nightgown to caress her thigh. "Ya always got me."
"And you have me," she replied, seizing his lips, wrapping her arms around his back and drawing him even closer.
* * *
"How ya doin' on shingles, Sully?" he called up. "Need anymore?"
Sully raised his hammer and tapped a nail into a new shingle, the hole in their roof nearly repaired. "I think we're all set."
"Whoa there, son," Thaddeus called, hurrying over to the ladder and lifting Byron down from the second rung.
"I'll help fix the roof," Byron said determinedly, clutching Sully's spare hammer in one hand.
Thaddeus brushed off the little boy's shirt. "We appreciate that, but it looks like we're just about done. 'Sides, your ma will have my hide if I let ya up there."
Michaela climbed up the embankment holding a bucket, Katie following. "We brought you all some water," she said, setting the bucket on a tree stump in the middle of the clearing. "I don't want you getting overheated up there."
"Thanks, Ma," Brian said, brushing back his damp hair with his fingers and handing Sully another shingle. "We'll be down in a minute."
"I'll take some of that water, ma'am. Sure is a hot one today," Thaddeus said, walking over to the stump as Michaela and Katie returned to the clothesline and continued pulling down the laundry.
Byron watched as Thaddeus dipped his hands into the bucket, splashing his face and neck with the water and rubbing away the dirt and perspiration.
"Hang down your head, Tom Dooley," Thaddeus began to sing. "Hang down your head and cry. Hang down your head, Tom Dooley, Poor boy, you're bound to die!" He turned to face Byron, blinking water from his eyes. "Pass me a towel, son."
Mouth agape, Byron grabbed a towel looped around the handle of the bucket and held it up to him. Michaela turned from the clothesline, dropping a pair of stockings into the laundry basket as she eyed the little boy cautiously.
"I met her on the mountain," Thaddeus bellowed on as he patted his face with the towel. "There I took her life. Met her on the mountain, stabbed her with my knife! Oh, hang down your head Tom Dooley, hang down your head and cry!"
Byron giggled as Thaddeus continued to sing. Just as the little boy began picking up on a few of the words and trying to chime in, Michaela abandoned the clothesline and rushed over, covering Byron's ears tightly with her hands.
"Hang down your head Tom Dooley, poor boy you're bound to die!" Thaddeus hollered, wiping away the last traces of water from his beard.
"Mr. Donovan!" Michaela exclaimed, holding Byron tight against her as he writhed. "Perhaps we could sing something a little less...sadistic?"
Thaddeus eyed her curiously for a moment. "Ya don't like Tom Dooley, ma'am?"
"Not particularly," she said curtly. "It's about murdering women and hanging people."
"It is?" he replied. "Well, I reckon it is! Never really thought about it."
"I don't mind you singing," she murmured. "I'd just appreciate it if you would sing something more appropriate for children. How about something like...like Beautiful Dreamer? That's a lovely tune and something we'd all enjoy hearing."
He placed the towel down on the stoop. "Beautiful Dreamer? Don't believe I know that one."
"No, I suppose not," Michaela muttered, releasing her hold on Byron's ears and leading him over to the clothesline. "Help me with the laundry, sweetheart. Let's not get in their way."
"Oh, we don't mind havin' him around, ma'am," Thaddeus called. "Laundry, now that's women's work best left up to you and the little girl."
Michaela spun around, pursing her lips. "I see no need for such distinctions. In our family we all help each other until every chore is done. That's what I teach my children."
"I'm just sayin' it might suit the youn'un better if he was helpin' us," Thaddeus replied. "Uh, in my estimation."
"No. I don't want him near the roof," Michaela retorted. "He's helping me, Mr. Donovan, whether you think this is women's work or not."
Hank opened the door of the clinic just as a giant sneeze rattled his chest. "Hey, doc," he said, eyes watering and nose blistering red. "Ya got a minute?"
Simon looked up from the desk, removing his spectacles and eyeing Hank up and down with raised eyebrows. "Do you have an appointment...sir?"
"An appointment? I gotta have an appointment now?" Hank questioned, pressing a limp bandana to his nose. "Michaela always let me just walk in."
Simon stacked a pile of medical charts neatly and put them in one corner of the desk. "Yes, well, I'm still trying to make sense of Dr. Quinn's organization here. She has no hours posted, patients come in and out as they please without so much as ringing the bell and her examination table is in the middle of this front room where all the dust blows in. The place is in complete disarray. The other day I found a child's wooden horse under one of the recovery beds. Is this a medical practice or a schoolyard?"
Hank crossed the room and hopped up onto the table. "My hay fever's back. Ya gotta give me somethin' for it."
Simon stood up and walked to the basin, rolling up his sleeves and running the bar of soap quickly over his hands. "Just let me find your chart. Mr. Lawson, correct?"
Hank squinted up his eyes and let out another sneeze. "Forget the chart. Just give me somethin'."
Simon put his stethoscope in his ears and walked over to Hank, methodically unbuttoning his shirt to expose his chest. "Take a few deep breaths, please."
"That's the point. I can't breathe," Hank said impatiently, peering at him through his tearing eyes. "Stinging nettles. I think that's what Michaela gave me last time. Worked like a charm."
"Stinging nettles?" Simon blurted with a laugh, removing the stethoscope from his ears and looking up. "Oh, not another one of her Indian potions. I've heard all about this."
"Long as I can breathe again, that's all I care about," Hank said, sliding down from the table and walking over to the cabinet. He opened it, looking over the various bottles and jars.
"What are you doing?" Simon demanded, hurrying over to his side and grabbing his arm. "You can't go through there. You're contaminating everything! I'm sorry, Mr. Lawson, but I can't prescribe some tonic I've never seen before no matter how well you say it works. So all of her leaves and roots and things are staying in this cabinet until she comes back. What she chooses to give out is up to her, but I refuse to touch stinging nettles or anything of the like!"
Hank smiled, pulling out one of the jars and reaching into his pocket for a coin. "Here we go."
"What? You're not going to take that with you, are you?" Simon went on. "And I suppose next you'll be wanting me to perform some sort of Indian dance as well!"
Hank tossed him the coin and turned for the door. "Thanks, Doc."
"Glad I could be of help," Simon muttered, closing the door after him and folding his arms.
* * *
"Sully, get down here!" Thaddeus bellowed from the base of the stairs, startling him out of his reverie.
"Somethin' wrong?" Sully called back, folding the sandpaper and placing it in his toolbox.
"Come on! Galen Clark's here!" Thaddeus replied, peering up the staircase. "What do you think this is, a moonlit stroll with your woman? Hurry up!"
"I'm comin'!" Sully shouted, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached Thaddeus. "What's goin' on?"
Thaddeus pulled out a tattered bandana from his breast pocket, handing it to him. "Try not to work so hard, Sully. Here, wipe your face."
Sully mopped the sweat and dust from his forehead as he caught his breath. "Who's this Galen Clark fella?"
"Who's Galen Clark?" Thaddeus blurted, walking across the room for the door. "Sully, you're somethin'. Who's Galen Clark, he says!"
"Well, who is he?" Sully replied, following him onto the porch.
"Our boss's boss, that's who," Thaddeus told him, slowing his steps.
"Harper has a boss?" Sully questioned.
"You bet he does. Galen Clark is the reason Yosemite and all of us is even here. He lobbied a few years back to make the land a public trust. Clark's official guardian of the place."
"What's that mean?" Sully said curiously. He glanced around camp. Every worker had abandoned his task to stand at attention, eyes fixed forward as Harper and Galen Clark meandered through the camp.
"Means he's in charge," Thaddeus explained, sticking his thumbs in the pockets of his buckskins. "Oversees everything that goes on here from bridges to roads to homesteaders. He comes out here from his place in the Mariposa Grove every so often. Talks to Harper and takes a look-see at how we're comin' along." He laughed. "Harper gets all worked up when he visits. Look at him all polished in his finest. I guess 'cause Gale could shut him down just like that if he had a mind to."
Sully tensed, the idea that one man had the power to terminate any future projects filling him with concern. He watched as Galen circled the camp, Harper at his side. He was probably in his sixties, Sully guessed, with the solid, brisk steps and commanding presence of a wise, just man. He wore a long dark suit coat, shirt and tie. His thick white beard jutted out unkempt from his chin, a sign his fancy dress was only a matter of formality.
"Don't worry, Sully," Thaddeus said. "Galen Clark is the nicest fella I ever did meet. As long as Harper does what he says, he'll keep him goin' forever.
"He's comin' over here," Sully replied. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Nothin' special. Just stand still, smile, speak up only if he talks to you."
Sully straightened his shoulders and rested one hand on the porch railing, nodding at the men as they sauntered over to the steps of the new lodge.
Harper gazed up at the structure proudly. "I believe you'll find our latest work more than satisfactory. Twelve bedrooms, four fireplaces, a kitchen, dining room and sitting room. And as you can see, a sweeping front porch and bay window."
Galen stepped back, surveying the building. "This is fine craftsmanship, gentlemen," he said, turning his hat in his hands. "Tad! Good to see you again."
"Same to you, sir," Thaddeus replied.
"And this is Sully, Mr. Clark," Harper said, motioning Sully to descend the steps and join them.
"Ah, the man you've told me so much about," he replied. "Galen Clark. It's an absolute honor."
Sully shook his hand, bewildered. "Hello, sir."
"How are you finding the valley?" Galen asked.
Sully drew in his breath. "I've never seen any place like it. Awe-inspiring, ya might say."
Galen nodded firmly. "Nicely put. I understand you've had a little run in with our Miwoks."
"To be honest I don't think they like us too much," Sully admitted. "I'm doin' my best to get along."
"I see," Galen replied. "Well, they're good people, Mr. Sully. I've had numerous encounters with them myself. They even brought me food once when I was very ill. Keep trying."
Sully nodded. "I plan to."
"Now, to the business at hand," Galen said. He wrapped his arm around Sully's shoulders, gazing out in the distance. "You see these mountains?"
Sully cleared his throat. "Uh...yes, sir."
"I've been to the top for a look at the valley below quite a few times," Galen explained, his free hand on his hip. "Magnificent. But most people don't have the mountaineering experience that I do. Most people would never be able to conquer such massive peaks."
"Not without a little help," Sully said, eyeing him perceptively.
"Ah-ha, you're on to me!" Galen said, a twinge of a smile at his lips. "I want every visitor to this park to be able to scale them and see the valley below." He held out his hand to Harper, who immediately gave him a thick rolled sheet of paper. Galen pushed it open, revealing a topography map of the area. "I want paths built up to the peaks with steps at the steepest points. I want overlooks structured at various points, along with sturdy handrails. Not only men but children, their grandfathers and grandmothers, and the most delicate of women should be able to climb to the summits safely and efficiently."
"That sounds like a real good idea," Sully said, glancing over the map. "I'd like to see everybody be able to get to the top. I think what ya did, sir, helpin' to get this place protected under the law, is real respectable. I admire a man that thinks ahead more than a few generations."
"That's kind of you to say," Galen said, rolling the map back up. "Harper tells me you have experience with design. He also says you're his fastest, most accurate carpenter. Mr. Sully, how would you feel about helping to create one of the routes up these mountains? How would you feel about being second in command to the project? With Mr. Harper as foreman of course."
"Second in command? I'd feel...honored," Sully said in disbelief.
"Then you accept?" Galen questioned.
Sully nodded, eyes fixed on the jutting peaks. "Yeah. I accept."
Galen shielded his eyes, looking up at the porch. "Tad, I'd like you to help Mr. Sully here scout the best courses up the mountains. Will you do it?"
Thaddeus stepped forward. "Yes, sir. I surely will, Mr. Clark."
"We'll see what you can do with this in the next few months," Galen said, handing Sully the map. "If all goes well I just may make you supervisor of a project all your own." He touched his fingers to the medicine bag around Sully's neck. "What's this? Is this Sioux?"
Sully glanced down. "Cheyenne."
"Oh, I see. Very good," Galen replied, slapping his chest. "It was wonderful to finally meet you, Mr. Sully, and I'm sure I'll be conferring with you again in the future."
"'Here the captain cast anchor and, making fast to the shore, put out the landing planks,'" Brian went on, the book propped up against his knees.
Byron and Katie were reclined on their stomachs in front of him, chins resting on their hands as they listened to the tale with animated eyes. Michaela kneeled beside them, the baby cuddled in her lap with his rattle. It was a comfortably warm morning, the sky cloudless, and Michaela had decided to bring everyone outside for school. She and Brian laid a blanket under a shady tree near the cabin and Katie and Byron brought the crate of school supplies outside. Michaela knew that eventually snow would fall and they would be cooped up inside most of the time. They might as well enjoy the nice weather while it lasted.
Brian paused to smile at the children's fascination and then regained his place. "'So all on board landed and made furnaces, and lighting fires therein, busied themselves in various ways, some cooking and some washing, whilst other some walked about the island for solace, and the crew fell to eating and drinking and playing and sporting.'"
"Byron, Katie. What ya'll doin'!" Jim called, jogging over to the blanket, Luke behind him.
"Mornin'," Brian said cheerfully.
"We're reading about pirates!" Byron exclaimed.
"Pirates?" Luke said, intrigued. "My pa tells me stories about pirates sometimes."
"They got one eye and peg legs," Jim added. "And parrots."
"Would you like to stay and hear this story?" Michaela asked, patting the blanket invitingly.
"We gotta be back for chores pretty soon. We just came over to say howdy," Luke said hesitantly.
"You could stay for a little bit," Katie spoke up. "Please?"
"Well, I reckon we could," Luke said, slowly lowering himself to the blanket. "Come on, Jim. Sit down."
"We left off when the boat docked and the men all went their separate ways, lightin' fires and eatin' and things," Brian explained as he found his place again. "'I was one of the walkers, but as we were thus engaged, behold the master, who was standing on the gunwale, cried out to us-'"
"What's a gunwale?" Jim interrupted.
"I'm not sure," Michaela said reaching into the crate for the thick dictionary she had brought from the homestead and flipping through the pages. "Let's look it up, shall we? Ah...here it is." She turned the book toward Jim and pointed at the word. "You tell us, Jim."
"'The upper edge of a ship's or boat's side,'" the boy read slowly. He looked at Michaela with a smile. "Gunwale!"
"That's very good, Jim," Michaela said. "Thank you."
Jim gazed at her with wistful eyes, slowly blinking. He awkwardly cleared his throat. "You're welcome...Miz Sully, ma'am."
"Go on, Brian," Michaela encouraged, patting Jim's back.
"'He cried out to us at the top of his voice, saying: Ho there! Passengers, run for your lives, hasten back to the ship and leave your gear and save yourselves from destruction, Allah preserve you! For this island whereon ye stand is no true island, but a great fish stationary a-middlemost of the sea, whereon the sand hath settled and trees have sprung up of old time, so that it is become like unto an island.'"
"Who's Allah, Mama?" Katie asked.
"Allah?" Michaela repeated, thinking a moment. "Well, Allah's just a different name for God. The men in this story follow a religion that isn't exactly the same as ours, but I think we have more things in common than not."
"Why do we need different names for God?" Jim asked. "Why don't everybody just call Him one thing?"
Michaela shrugged. "It's all right to be different. It makes us all more interesting that way. We can learn new things from one another. Now, where were we?"
"The part where the island is really a fish!" Katie replied, enthralled.
Brian cleared his throat as he continued. "'But when ye lighted fires on it, it felt the heat and moved, and in a moment it will sink with you into the sea and ye will all be drowned.'"
"Oh, no!" Luke cried.
As if he, too, had been following the story, Jack squinted up his eyes and gave a solid wail, kicking his legs.
"Oh, you're hungry again, sweetheart, aren't you," Michaela murmured, rising to her feet and kissing the baby's head. "We'll have to stop here for now, Brian."
"Wait!" Jim exclaimed. "What happens?"
"Do they drown?" Luke asked anxiously. "No, Miz Sully. We can't stop!"
The baby cried more forcefully as Michaela rubbed his back. "I'm sorry. I need to get Jack fed and then I'll have to start lunch."
"I guess we gotta get back for lunch, too," Jim said with a sigh.
"I know. You could take the book back with ya and read it at home," Brian suggested. "We wouldn't mind. We've all read it at least three times anyway."
"Could we?" Jim replied. "We'd be real careful with it!"
"Brian, I'm not sure if Mrs. Donovan wants-" Michaela began.
"Naw, Ma would like this book," Luke said, rising to his feet. "'Sides, who don't wanna hear about pirates?"
"Yeah. We can bring it home and all read it," Jim added, taking the book from Brian and gazing at the shiny gold title with a grin. "'Arabian Nights,'" he read. "Yeah, this sounds good!"
"All right then," Michaela consented. "You could bring it back in a few weeks, just like a library."
"A library? What's that?" Luke asked.
"It's a building that has lots of books inside," Brian explained. "We got one in Colorado Springs. You can take books home and read 'em, as long as ya promise to bring 'em back."
"And ya don't gotta pay? Gee, I wish we had a library here," Jim said, clutching the book to his chest. "Well, thanks a lot for this. We really gotta head home now."
Katie rose to her feet, eyeing Jim reverently. "Goodbye, Jim. I'm glad you came over."
"Bye, Katie," he said quickly. He turned to Michaela, politely holding out his hand. "Goodbye, Miz Sully. Ya'll take care now."
Michaela smiled and shook with him. "Well, thank you, Jim. We will."
Byron rose to his feet as the boys jogged back to the path. "I gotta go again. Brian, can you help me with my buttons?"
Brian smiled, tousling his hair. "Sure, B. Come on."
"When you're done, could you please fold the blanket and bring it inside?" Michaela asked.
"We will, Ma," Brian called as he and the little boy scurried into the woods.
"Isn't Jim nice, Mama?" Katie said reverently.
"Yes, he was very polite today," Michaela replied with a smile, standing up and walking inside with Jack.
Katie followed her to the bed and sat down beside her. "Can I hold the baby?"
"Certainly. After I feed him," Michaela replied. "Why don't you sit at the table and then I'll bring him over?"
"No. I want to see," Katie replied. "I want to sit here with you. Can I, please?"
Michaela tenderly caressed her hair. "Oh, of course you may, sweetheart. If that's what you want."
Katie rested her head against her mother's shoulder as Michaela unbuttoned her blouse and held the baby to her breast. Jack curled up against his mother, latched on and quieted, holding onto Katie's thumb and closing his eyes drowsily.
"Mama? Do you think Jim thinks I'm nice?" Katie asked.
"What's important is what do you think?" Michaela replied. "Do you think you're nice?"
Katie pressed one finger to her chin thoughtfully as she watched the baby nurse. "Yeah. I'm pretty nice. But do you think he likes girls who have hair like me?"
"I don't know why he wouldn't," Michaela said. "Your hair is very pretty. Any boy would—Katie, why all these questions about Jim?" she demanded, suddenly apprehensive.
"I'm gonna marry him," she said simply.
Michaela's eyes widened with surprise. "Marry him? Katie...you're a little girl, sweetheart. You shouldn't be thinking about things like that. At least not yet."
"I love Jim, Mama," she said. "Just like you love Papa."
Michaela shifted to face her, swallowing. "Sweetheart, I'm afraid that's not the same at all. Papa and I, we're adults. We spent a great deal of time together before we knew we wanted to be married. When we did, those feelings had grown very deep and meaningful. Much more than just being sweet on one another."
"Jim loves me," she said, growing tearful. "He lets me play with him even though he's older."
"Well, it's nice of him to invite you to play," Michaela explained patiently. "And it's very sweet that you think you love him. I'm sure he would be very flattered."
"Flattered?" Katie repeated with confusion.
Byron opened the door, the quilt tucked under his arm. "Mama, we saw a deer when I was goin' on the bushes! A real big one!"
Brian quickly averted his eyes. "Oh. Sorry, Ma. We'll wait outside."
Michaela looked up, wrapping her arm around Katie. "That's all right. I'll be finished in a few minutes." She planted a loving kiss on Katie's head. "We'll talk about this later. We'll definitely talk about this later."
* * *
"I'm coming, sweetheart," Michaela murmured, circling to the end of the bed and reaching into the cradle. She climbed back into bed, one hand quickly unbuttoning the front of her nightgown. "All right, Jack. All right," she whispered, letting out a relieved sigh as the baby latched on firmly and quieted. She fell back against the pillows with another sigh, absently gazing out the window. The sun was just beginning to peek over the mountains and into the cabin. There was no use in going back to sleep once Jack was finished. She would have to be up in another hour anyway. The baby always picked the most inopportune times for a feeding. She closed her eyes exhaustedly. Five months old and he continued to wake at all hours. She couldn't remember the last time she had gotten a good night's rest. Without intending to lose her composure, she found herself in tears. Soon she was weeping steadily, gazing down at the baby and gently stroking his head as he continued to nurse, oblivious to her upset.
"Michaela? What's wrong?" Sully whispered, blinking away sleep as he turned on his side to face her.
"Nothing," she murmured.
He reached up and brushed away a tear. "What? Is it the baby?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. It's just, why won't he sleep through the night? Katie and Byron were sleeping through the night by now."
He glanced at Jack, smoothing his hair. "All babies are different."
Her tears resumed with greater intensity. "I feel like I haven't had a decent night's rest in a year. And I probably haven't. Sometimes I think if he wakes me up one more time I won't have anymore energy to answer."
Sully raised himself to sit up in bed, stroking her arm sympathetically. "You're doin' fine."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," she murmured guiltily. "I love him so much."
"You're just tired, Michaela. How about we start him on a bottle? Then I could help out when he wakes up like this."
She hesitated. "So soon?"
"It ain't that soon," he replied.
"Sully, I weaned Byron at barely four weeks. Neither of us was ready and I've always felt guilty about that. I wanted to nurse Jack as long as I could."
"This ain't Byron," he said. "This is a different baby. There's nothin' wrong with tryin' a bottle. Especially if it's gonna let ya get a little more sleep so ya can feel better. I'll have Harper order some infant food for the next supply shipment."
She reluctantly nodded. "We could try it I suppose."
"He'll sleep through the night real soon," he whispered, caressing her hand as he gazed at the baby lovingly. "It's just gonna get easier."
Michaela swallowed hard. Even once Jack started sleeping more regularly, he would also be crawling speedily and even standing and walking. She would have to devote nearly every moment to keeping a watchful eye on him, a task nearly as tiring as the constant feedings and diaper changes. Bottle or not, she wasn't going to get any more rest than she was now. For Sully's sake, she attempted a smile. This was just another thing he didn't have time to worry about. She was determined not to make anything more of it. "Yes. You're right," she whispered.
Sully kissed the baby's head. "Sometimes it's like he's always been a part of our family. Sometimes I can't remember what it was like before."
"Yes," she said in agreement. "And the children have taken to him so quickly. They always want to hold him. Especially Katie."
"Kates is the best big sister he could ask for," Sully said with a smile.
"Sully, has Katie said anything to you about...about Jim?"
He shrugged as he continued to stroke the baby's hair. "She talks about him a lot, now that ya say so. They seem to get along real well."
"Perhaps too well," she replied. "The other day she told me she...she loves him."
"Loves him?" Sully echoed, raising his eyebrows. "What's she mean?"
"She says she wants to marry him," Michaela said. "Jim lets her tag along with him, he's kind to her, and I believe she took that the wrong way."
"Sounds like a bad case of puppy love," Sully replied.
"I tried to explain things to her but I don't think it did much good," Michaela went on. "She just doesn't understand. What do we do, Sully? What if she gets hurt?"
He gazed down at Jack thoughtfully. "Why don't ya try talkin' to Jim? Maybe Katie needs to hear the truth from him. Jim probably don't even realize she has eyes for him."
"Yes, I doubt he does," she said in agreement. "That's a good idea. I'll talk to Jim."
* * *
She lifted one of the buckets up and poured it into the steaming cauldron in front of the cabin as Jim jogged down the path and into view.
"Good afternoon, Jim," Michaela called.
Jim walked up to her sheepishly, a bundle of wildflowers in one hand. "Howdy. I, uh, brought ya some flowers."
Michaela took them with surprise, holding them to her nose. "Thank you. These are lovely. I'll put them on our table at supper tonight."
He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled. "You're welcome."
"Where's Luke?" she asked, reaching down to pick up the other bucket with her free hand.
"Home. It's just me today. Oh, let me help ya with this," he said, quickly scurrying to her side and tilting the bucket over the cauldron. "Lady like you shouldn't be liftin' buckets as heavy as these. Best leave that to us menfolk."
"I manage," Michaela replied wryly, picking up the paddle and stirring the laundry inside.
"Michaela," Sully called, bracing the rail tight against a post as Brian pounded a nail into it. "Maybe Jim wants a drink." He nodded encouragingly at the bucket of water and ladle sitting on the porch bench.
Michaela smiled uncertainly in reply and put her arm around the boy. If she was going to talk to him about Katie, she might as well get it over with. "Let's sit down, Jim."
He obediently walked over to the bench and sunk into it, removing his hat to reveal slicked down, neatly parted hair. Michaela suddenly got a whiff of a liberal splashing of bay rum on his clothes.
"You smell nice, Jim," she said, eyes tearing with the strength of the odor. "Very nice."
He burst into a pleased grin. "So do you, ma'am."
"After doing laundry all day I doubt that," she said with a chuckle. "Well, I might as well get to the point. I'm not sure you're aware that a certain young lady...well, is quite fond of you."
His smile widened. "I know."
"Oh, you do?" she blurted. "Well, good."
"And I know what you're thinkin'," he went on. "There's so many years between the two of us. But it don't bother me none, that is, if it don't bother you."
"Well, yes, there's a significant age difference one can't discount," Michaela replied. "But mainly I'm concerned about her feelings. I just want you to understand that the feelings she has are important to her, and naturally I don't want her to be hurt."
He raised his hand. "Say no more. I understand. I won't hurt her. Ever."
"Well, I'm happy to hear that," she said.
"Does she know I got feelins for her, too?" he murmured. "Real powerful ones."
"You do?" Michaela blurted, eyes widening. "Jim, I don't think-"
"She's the prettiest lady I ever saw," he said wistfully, gazing into her eyes. "Prettier than any lady back in Salt Lake City. Talks with a real sweet voice, too, and has lots of real fine hats and dresses."
Michaela eyed him with confusion. "Well, that's very kind of you to say that about her, but I just think you're far too young for all this. Do you understand? If you two truly think you care for each other, you should wait until you're grown. Farther down the road you're going to meet someone else and forget all about her."
He reluctantly nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'll wait as long as it takes. And don't you worry yourself one bit. I won't meet nobody else."
"Then you understand that Ka-" she began.
"Yep," he said. "I understand."
She patted his shoulder. "Good! I'm glad we talked about this. Now I'm afraid I have to get back to the laundry. Katie and Byron are inside with the baby. Can you stay?"
"Actually, I best be gettin' back home," Jim said, standing up and stepping down from the porch.
Michaela held up the flowers. "All right. Thank you for bringing these over."
"I was happy to," he replied, backing up and bumping forcefully into the tub and washboard Michaela had placed near the cauldron. He spun around, quickly straightening the tub and clearing his throat. "Sorry, Mrs. Sully. Sorry. Bye, now." He turned and ran into the woods, disappearing.
Michaela waved with a smile and walked to the corral where Sully and Brian were quietly snickering.
"I think that was handled quite well," she said proudly.
"Ya think so?" Sully replied.
"I had no idea he has feelings for Katie, too," she replied, placing her hands on the top rail. "It's quite sweet actually. And I suppose he's relatively harmless."
"Nice flowers, Ma," Brian remarked wryly, resting his hammer over his shoulder.
"That was very thoughtful of Jim to bring them over for us," she replied, taking another whiff of the fresh-smelling bouquet.
"For us, or for you?" Sully replied, sharing a teasing grin with Brian.
"Well, for us of course," she blurted. "What are you trying to imply?"
Sully shrugged. "Just sayin' what I saw."
"Jim's face gets red as a tomato whenever you're around. Didn't ya notice, Ma?" Brian asked.
"Don't be silly. He's just a little boy," she scolded. "I have to finish the laundry now. And you have a fence to repair!"
* * *
"High-ye-ma," Sully repeated, digging his shovel into the moist earth and tossing the soil to the side.
"Ko-may. Moon," Thaddeus went on.
"Ko-may," Sully repeated. "High-yema and ko-may."
"You're pickin' all this up mighty fast, Sully," Thaddeus remarked.
"New words've always come easy to me," Sully admitted. "I learned Cheyenne in a few months. I know enough Spanish to get by."
"And now you're gonna know enough Miwok to get by," Thaddeus remarked, slapping firmly at a mosquito feasting on his arm. "They call this little vermin an oo-yookoo-soo," he said, flicking the squashed bug away. "Damn 'em all to hell, eh Sully?"
Sully chuckled, nodding at a nearby pile of shaved and smoothed wood. "Hand me one of those posts."
Thaddeus picked up a post and tossed it to Sully. "Say, what are you folks up to next Saturday?"
"Nothin' special," Sully replied. "Why?"
"Good, then ya'll come with us to the Grange Fair in Madera!" Thaddeus replied. "I go every year and bring my hog Sweetie to be judged. She's taken first the last four times. What do ya say?"
"Sounds like fun," Sully replied.
"They got music, games for the youn'uns, lots of hearty food with all the trimmins. We'll have a good time."
"We'll be there," Sully said with a smile.
"Say, it ain't lunch time yet, is it?" Thaddeus asked.
Sully shook his head. "Harper said I should call the breaks. We'll eat in an hour or so."
"Well, look down there," Thaddeus said, pointing at a few workers lounging in the dust, their pile of posts untouched. "There's Silas and Andy and a few others."
Sully put his post on the ground and gazed down the hill. Silas had his pipe out and was offering a smoke to the other men. Andy was sprawled out on a rock, fanning himself with his hat and enjoying a cigar.
"Go tell 'em to get back to work, Sully," Thaddeus said. "Lazy good-for-nothins."
"I ain't their boss," Sully said quietly.
"Sure you are," Thaddeus protested. "At least you are next to Harper. You're in charge of callin' the breaks and I ain't heard ya call any. How we gonna get this done on time with only you and me workin'?"
"You're right," Sully replied, picking up the clipboard Harper had lent him and making his way down to the men.
"Well, here comes the famous Sully," Andy said dryly, flicking cigar ash onto the ground and putting his hat back on his head.
"Care for a smoke?" Silas asked, holding out his pipe.
"No thanks, but I would like to see you get back to work, gentlemen," Sully said, smoothing back his wind-tossed hair.
"We're beat," Andy grumbled. "We want a break."
"You'll get your break at noon with everybody else," Sully replied, studying the clipboard. "Harper and I want a half mile of handrails constructed today. I'd appreciate it if ya start drivin' your posts. I don't know about you but I'd like to get this all done on time so's we can get home."
Silas stood up, his full height several inches taller than Sully. He stared him in the eyes, a smirk on his lips. "All right, all right. Calm down, Sully. Wouldn't want you a minute late gettin' home to your precious wife. Come on, boys. Time to work."
"I'll let ya know when noon comes," Sully said briskly, turning around and heading back up the hill.
Andy watched him go, reluctantly picking up his shovel. "Who died and made him boss? I been working here months longer than he has! Just who does he think he is?"
"He's Harper's favorite, that's who," another worker mumbled.
"Well, it ain't right," Andy protested. "I don't have to answer to him."
"We do now," Silas muttered.
"If Sully weren't here, you'd be second in command, Silas," Andy said, resting his shovel over his shoulder. "Until he showed up, you were next in line."
"Andy's right," a man standing nearby spoke up, pounding a post into the earth.
Silas watched Sully resume work, narrowing his dark eyes. "Be a shame if anything were to happen to him. It's dangerous work, up high on these mountains."
Andy eyed him perceptively. "But at least we know we got you right here and able to take his place if Sully ever couldn't come through."
Sully added a log to the fire and stirred it with the poker as Michaela looked through the mail he had brought home with him. Mail day was always a treat, with letters only brought to camp with the supplies about once every two weeks.
"Your move, Pa," Brian spoke up from his seat beside Michaela. He was hovering over the checkerboard, intent on the game.
Sully rested the poker back against the stone fireplace and returned to the table, studying his men. He slid a checker forward a moment later and then glanced at Michaela. She was smiling wide as she poured over a lengthy letter. "Word from Boston?" he asked curiously.
Michaela rested the letter on the table. "You won't believe this. Mother says my niece is in San Francisco."
"Which one?" Sully asked with a chuckle.
"Mollie. Claudette's daughter," Michaela replied. "She's a few years older than you, Brian. You remember her from when we visited Boston, don't you? The redhead. I hear she's grown into a very striking young woman."
"Is this the niece you looked after?" Sully asked, picking up the letter and skimming it.
Michaela nodded. "Yes, her and her brother William when they were very young. Claudette was sleeping in her bedroom most of the day and barely speaking."
"Why, Ma? What happened?" Brian asked, moving a checker of his forward.
"Well, Claudette's oldest son Robert had contracted tuberculosis," Michaela explained. "Father and I tried everything we knew how but he deteriorated quite rapidly...and passed away within a few months."
"Claudette had a hard time of it," Sully added. "Your ma took the two younger kids under her wing until Claudette came around again and could take care of them herself."
"We could visit Mollie when we go to San Francisco next month, Ma," Brian said.
"Could we, Sully?" Michaela asked hopefully. "I haven't seen her in years."
"I don't see why not," Sully said, jumping one of Brian's checkers and placing it aside. "What's she doin' in San Francisco anyway?"
Michaela put her arm around Brian. "She's a freelance writer. She's being published in various ladies periodicals there. I think you and Mollie would find so much in common, Brian. Perhaps we could take her out to supper so you two could talk."
"Yeah. All right," Brian said half-heartedly, his thoughts wandering to Sarah. He wondered how Sarah would feel about him having dinner with Mollie. Sure, the girl was his cousin, but not his real cousin. He had promised Sarah there were hardly any women around Yosemite and now here he was about to take a cultured, Boston-bred lady to some fancy restaurant in downtown San Francisco.
Sully gave Brian's arm a nudge. "Your move."
* * *
Sully jumped down from the wagon seat and gave Michaela a hand down as Thaddeus, Luke and Jim lifted their pig down from the back of their wagon with the gentlest of care.
"Sully, what do ya say we meet ya back here for lunch?" Thaddeus spoke up, tying a rope carefully around the pig's thick neck. "We gotta get Sweetie checked in first."
"Sounds good," Sully replied as he lifted Byron and Katie over the side of the wagon.
Michaela settled Jack into his sling and then glanced around at all the activity. She had never been more grateful to see so many people at once. She burst into an excited smile and clasped Sully's hand.
"What do ya wanna do first?" he asked, squeezing her hand.
"Let's go shopping," she replied. "I want to buy some fresh fruit for a pie."
"Wait! Papa, I wanna pet the sheeps," Byron spoke up, tugging on his father's shirt.
"I don't wanna miss seein' Mr. Donovan's pig get judged, Pa," Brian added.
"We'll see it all, I promise," he said, picking Byron up and taking Katie's hand as they walked down the main street of town.
"Look at all the people, Mama!" Katie spoke up as they ascended the steps of the crowded general store.
Michaela caressed her head with a smile. "A lot more people than in Yosemite, hm?"
"Can I get some candy?" Byron asked, his eyes traveling to a wall filled with jars of sweets as Michaela began perusing eagerly through the barrels and crates of colorful fruits and vegetables.
Sully dug into his pocket, pulling out two coins and handing them to Katie and Byron. "Ya can buy what ya want with these."
"A whole dollar!" Byron exclaimed, holding up his coin reverently.
"No, that's a dime," Brian told him, tousling his hair. "Don't worry. It'll get ya plenty of candy." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Ma, I got a letter to post. Can I meet ya back here later?"
"To Sarah?" Sully asked playfully.
Brian shuffled his feet sheepishly. "Yeah."
"Go on, son," Sully said. "We'll see ya later."
"We'll meet you out in front of the store," Michaela added.
He smiled, tucking the envelope back into his pocket. "Thanks."
Sully grasped Michaela's arm. "I gotta go in the back and look at some lumber. I'll leave the kids out here with you."
"Lumber for what, Sully?" she asked as she sniffed a tomato.
He smiled mischievously, reaching inside the sling to caress the baby's head. "I was thinkin' somebody I know might appreciate it if I built a proper outhouse."
"Oh, Sully. Really?" she murmured.
He kissed her in reply. "I'll just be a few minutes."
She clasped his hand. "Thank you," she said lovingly.
"You're welcome," he replied, giving her another small kiss.
* * *
Jim, Luke and a dozen other boys their age were chasing after a wailing, untiring greased piglet that had no intentions of being caught. The boys were covered in sticky, dark mud from all the dives and slides they had made inside the pen, trying to grab hold of the pig's slick legs.
Jim suddenly took a violent jump on the pig, crashing into one side of the fence.
"Oh, my goodness," Michaela murmured worriedly. "Jim, be careful!"
"Jim! Get up!" Thaddeus encouraged.
"Come on, Jimmy! Ya almost had her!" Carrie called. "Luke, what are ya doin'?! Get in there!"
Jim slowly stood up, brushed himself off and ventured back toward the pig.
"Come on, Jim! Come on!" Katie cheered.
"Papa, I wanna play," Byron said, rolling up his sleeves.
"Not this time, Byron," Sully said.
"Absolutely not," Michaela added firmly, drawing the little boy protectively to her side.
"Aw, Mama. Please?" Byron protested.
"No," she replied. "Do you want to be filthy like all of those boys?"
"Yes," he replied, looking up at her stubbornly.
"Well, I don't want you to be," she retorted. "Let's just watch."
"When you're eight then you can play, B.," Brian said, patting his little brother's shoulder reassuringly. "That's the rules."
Luke and Jim took another dive for the pig, followed by a handful of other boys. They ended up in a disorganized, muddy pile, the pig squealing desperately underneath.
One by one, the boys untangled themselves, finally revealing Jim at the bottom, covered in filth. He rose to his feet, the pig clutched tightly in his arms. "Ma! Pa! I got her!" he cried, blinking mud from his eyelashes.
"Jim won!" Katie shouted, climbing onto the first fence rail to see.
"Jim!" Carrie exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Oh, ya got her!"
"That's my boy!" Thaddeus said proudly.
Jim burst into a grin as the other children grumbled and climbed out of the pen, faces hung with disappointment. A man in a dusty top hat climbed inside the pen and pinned a crisp blue ribbon to the boy's chest.
"The winner of the greased pig competition and in less than fifteen minutes!" he said loudly. "Well done, lad. The grunter's all yours."
Thaddeus opened the gate and pulled Jim out. "Nice work, son."
"Thanks, Pa!" Jim said as Thaddeus tied the piglet's neck with a rope and put him on the ground.
Jim cleared his throat, ran the back of his arm across his muddy brow, and walked up to Michaela determinedly.
"Congratulations, Jim," Michaela said with a smile.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said, looking up at her reverently. "I'd like to give the pig to you."
"To Mrs. Sully? What for?" Luke demanded, wiping his face off with a handkerchief. "What's she know about raisin' pigs? She'll mess it all up."
"It's a present," Jim said uncomfortably. "And I bet she knows a lot more than you anyhow, Luke. She's smart."
"A present!" Luke said with a laugh. "What is she, your sweetheart? Why would ya wanna give some ole girl a present?"
"You just shush up!" Jim shouted, embarrassment rapidly warming his cheeks.
"Watch your mouth, Jim," Carrie spoke up. "And that pig is yours. Don't go givin' it away."
"Your mother's right," Michaela said, glancing at Sully questioningly. "That's very thoughtful of you but it's your pig. I'm afraid I don't know what I'd do with it."
Jim tore off his ribbon with affront. "Fine. I won't give it to ya if ya hate it that much. All that runnin' around in the mud and this is the thanks I get."
"Jim. I don't hate it," Michaela began desperately. "I just-"
Katie grinned and walked up to Jim, hugging his arm. "What's wrong? You won, Jim!"
"Katie, come on. Don't go grabbin' me in front of everybody," Jim scolded, shrugging her off. "And don't go keep holdin' my hand like some girl or I won't let ya play with us!"
Katie quickly let go, eyes filling with tears. She turned and broke away from the group, running down the street. Jim took off seconds later, sprinting in the opposite direction.
"Katie!" Michaela called. She quickly handed the baby to Brian. "Wait here with Jack and Byron," she instructed.
"We'll catch up to her," Sully said, grasping Michaela's arm. "Come on."
Together they hurried after the little girl as she ran into the field where the wagons and buggies were parked. Katie found their wagon and climbed into the back, bending her knees, wrapping her arms around them tightly and hiding her head against her apron.
Michaela and Sully slowed their pace and walked to the back of the wagon. Michaela smoothed the little girl's hair sympathetically.
"Do you want to talk about it, sweetheart?" she whispered.
"...Why did Jim have to yell at me?" Katie asked, slowly raising tear-filled eyes.
"He was just upset, Kates," Sully explained.
"He doesn't like m-me," she went on, voice unsteady. She raised her hand and rubbed her nose as more tears fell from her eyes.
"Perhaps not in the way you want him to," Michaela said, removing her handkerchief from inside her sleeve and dabbing it beneath Katie's eyes.
"Boys have to be so mean all the time," Katie said sourly. "All they want to do is do boy things and they never want me to come. But Jim lets me."
"Is that why ya took a likin' to Jim?" Sully asked quietly. "'Cause he wants ya along?"
"I just wanna play with everybody, Papa," Katie whispered. "I don't want them thinking I can't."
Michaela kissed her head. "I know how that feels. But you already do spend time with the boys, Katie. You and Byron have a good time with Jim and Luke, don't you?"
"Yeah," Katie reluctantly admitted.
"Well, why does that have to change?" Michaela asked. "Why not play with them and not worry about loving Jim and wanting to marry him?"
"They'll be plenty of time for all that," Sully added, tapping her nose.
"But not now," Michaela said. "Now is your time to run and play and have fun."
"Ya think Jim still wants to play with me?" Katie asked.
"I'm sure he does," Sully said. "If I were him I'd want you to be my friend, too."
Katie slowly smiled. "Maybe him and Luke can come over tomorrow."
"Yes, we can certainly invite them," Michaela said as she wiped away the last of Katie's tears. "Are you better now, sweetheart?"
"Yeah. Lots better," she replied.
"Good," Sully said, lifting her down from the wagon as Brian walked over, one arm wrapped around Byron and the other holding the baby.
"You all right, Katie?" he called. "You're gonna miss the judgin'."
Sully gave her braid a playful tug. "Your brothers can take ya over. Me and your ma'll be along."
Byron thrust his hand in her direction. "Come on, Katie. Hurry!"
"At least Byron wants to hold my hand," Katie said brightly.
Sully chuckled, patting her back. "That'll do for now. Go on."
"I'm glad that's over," Michaela said, wrapping her arm around Sully's waist as they watched the children hurry back into town.
"So am I," Sully said with relief. "If this is what I'm gonna have to contend with until she's grown I ain't sure if I'm up to it."
"Well, you have me to help," she replied, shooting him a wry grin as they began walking toward the judging booths.
"Katie's taken care of. Now what about Jim?" he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders.
"You truly believe he's sweet on me, Sully?" she said incredulously.
"It's as plain as day," he replied. "He was crushed when ya turned down that pig."
"What was I supposed to do? Take her? I don't know the first thing about looking after a pig."
"Jim seems to think you're smart enough to know everythin' there is to know," Sully replied, gently tickling the back of her neck.
"This is serious, Sully," she chastised. "And I just can't believe a nine-year-old boy would have the least bit of interest in me."
"I'd say it's real normal. I was about his age when a pretty lady first caught my eye," Sully said.
"Oh?" she replied, intrigued. "She must have been very special if you remember her even now."
"Ya gettin' jealous?" he asked lightheartedly.
"Jealous? Of course not," she said quickly. "But I would like to know who this pretty lady was."
"Her name was Lydia. She was the half sister of one of the boys I worked with on the docks. She would ride out every afternoon with one of her beaus and bring us some lunch she had made. Didn't take me more than a few seconds before I decided I was in love."
"And was she as in the dark about her admirer as I was?" Michaela asked.
"Afraid so," Sully replied.
"Well, what happened?" Michaela prompted. "Did you tell her your feelings?"
He shrugged, embarrassed.
"Tell me, Sully," she said impatiently. "What happened?"
"Well, I never was much for talkin'. So one day I caught her alone and kissed her cheek instead," he said quickly.
"You didn't," she murmured.
"Yep," he replied. "She screamed, called me an awful boy and a trickster and slapped my face. And that was the end of that."
Michaela laughed. "I imagine that was."
"Try not to do the same to Jim," he said with a grin.
"No, but I suppose someone should talk to him," she said as they approached the rows of pens, several judges wearing official ribbons walking up and down them. "But don't you think it should be his parents?"
"Probably," Sully replied as Byron ran up to them. "There's the kids."
"Hey, Papa. Can you lift me high so I can see?" Byron asked, clutching a sticky candy apple in one hand.
"Sure," Sully replied, picking him up with a smile. "Which one do ya think is gonna win?"
"I like all of them. I want them all to win," Byron said, gazing into the pens at the variety of animals.
"Don't be silly. They can't all win, Byron," Luke spoke up disapprovingly.
"They can, too," Byron protested.
"They're lookin' over Mr. Donovan's pig right now," Brian said, the baby sleeping over his shoulder and Katie at his side busily eating her own candy apple.
Michaela spotted Carrie resting her hands on one of the pens, glancing anxiously at the pig inside as a judge examined the animal's teeth.
"Carrie," Michaela called, reluctantly approaching her.
"Mrs. Sully. Sorry about my boy's manners," Mrs. Donovan replied, eyes still focused on the pig. "He shouldn't raise his voice to Katie like that. She never did him no harm. Hope she don't hold it against him."
"Oh, that's all right. She's fine now," Michaela said. "Actually I was worried about Jim. Is he around here?"
"Oh, he likely took off to the creek outside town," Mrs. Donovan said. "Don't fret. He's all right."
"I was afraid perhaps he's not. It seems we're in a bit of a quandary here," Michaela went on uncomfortably.
"You should hear that youn'un talk," Carrie went on, a hint of annoyance in her tone. "Mrs. Sully this, Mrs. Sully that. He sure took a shine to you, and plum out of nowhere."
"I can't think how this happened or why," Michaela said, pressing one hand to her chin pensively.
"Lord knows neither can I," Carrie replied, quickly glancing at her and crossing her arms tenaciously.
Michaela bit her lip. "Don't you think perhaps you should talk to him? He seemed quite hurt."
"Ain't my doin'. You was the one that wouldn't take a perfectly decent hog," Carrie said accusingly.
"But you said yourself he should keep it," Michaela protested.
"So I did. And I'm also sayin' the boy's fine. No need to make him talk about things he don't wanna talk about. He's got a stiff upper lip and I aim to keep it that way. Don't want him gettin' soft on me." She gestured inside the pen. "'Sides, I can't take off now. Thaddeus is about to claim first prize here."
"Well, would you mind if I talk to him?"
"You mean to say I don't know what's best for my own youn'un?" Carrie demanded.
"Of course not," Michaela quickly replied. "But I don't want him upset with me. I'd like to explain."
"If ya ask me ya should leave him be. He'll get over it. Ya treat little boys like little girls, give in to them every time they shed a tear and spoil them with sweets and other things, they'll grow up soft as molasses. Now maybe that don't trouble you, but that's not what I want for my own, that's for sure."
Michaela glanced at Byron, who was meticulously licking his candy apple. Carrie was plainly making a dig at her own children, and she couldn't just let it go. "Not that it's any of your business how I raise my sons, Mrs. Donovan, but their father and I are trying to bring them up to be kind young men who care about other people—who are sensitive to the feelings of fellow human beings."
"Sorry to be the one to tell ya, but 'round these parts bein' 'sensitive' ain't gonna get ya considerable far," Carrie said firmly.
"Mrs. Donovan, clearly we don't see eye to eye on this. But I'd like to at least apologize to Jim. I had no idea my refusal would hurt him so. Surely we can agree that an apology would be appropriate."
Mrs. Donovan eyed her for a long moment, and then slowly nodded. "The creek's down behind the meetin' house," she murmured.
Michaela gently clasped her arm. "I'll just be a few minutes."
* * *
"Jim," she called.
He spun around, startled. "Go away," he spat.
"Jim, I just wanted to apologize," Michaela said persistently. "I know you're upset. I'm sorry."
Jim threw another pebble into the stream and bit down hard on his lip. "Who says I'm upset? I ain't upset."
"That was one of the most thoughtful and generous gifts anyone ever wanted me to have," Michaela went on softly.
"It was a stupid idea," Jim protested. "I was bein' stupid."
"I don't think it was stupid. I think a pig is a fine present," Michaela told him. "If only I knew how to take care of it properly. We don't even have room for it in our shed. But I bet you do. I bet she would have an excellent home with you."
"I guess," Jim murmured, pitching another rock into the water.
"Jim, a few more years and you're going to meet many ladies," Michaela said. "Girls closer to your own age that you'll enjoy spending time with. And they'll love spending time with you."
"Yeah? Why would anybody like me?" he demanded, abruptly turning to face her. "I can't even offer a girl a good present."
"Well, many reasons," Michaela replied. "You're kind to others. You let Byron and Katie play with you even if you may not want them to. I know that means a lot to them."
"I reckon I might as well. They're the only other kids around here," he murmured.
"But you don't have to," Michaela said. "It especially meant a lot to Katie. She's very fond of you."
"She's all right I guess. For a girl," he said reluctantly.
"You read very well, too," Michaela went on. "I think you're smart yourself. You're quite...adventurous, and handsome, too. And you're sweet. You brought me a lovely bouquet of flowers I certainly didn't deserve."
"That was real stupid, too," he replied downheartedly. "I reckon ya can't stand the sight of me by now."
"On the contrary. I hope this doesn't mean I won't be seeing you anymore. I want to see you."
"You do?" he murmured hopefully.
She smiled. "Yes. You're my friend. That is, if that's what you want. There aren't very many people in Yosemite. I'll take all the friends I can get."
"Yeah. I'll be your friend, I guess," he said, slowly brightening.
Michaela took his crumpled ribbon from his hand and pinned it back on his chest. "Well, are we going to throw rocks in the creek all afternoon, or should we go watch the judging?"
"The judging," Jim said with a grin. "Come on."
Everyone was gathering around Thaddeus as Michaela and Jim hurried back into town. Jim ran up to his father, beaming. "Is it over? Did Sweetie win, Pa?"
Thaddeus glanced at him dejectedly as Carrie patted his back consolingly. "Second," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "We took second. I just can't figure how this happened. Sweetie always takes first!"
"Second's good, too, Pa," Jim said reassuringly.
"Second is a very respectable showing," Michaela added.
"I s'pose," he said reluctantly. "Well, I better go break the news to Sweetie."
"We'll come with ya," Carrie said, wrapping her arm around him in support.
"We'll help, Pa," Luke added.
Sully drew Michaela to his side. "Everything all right?"
"Everything's fine now," she said, standing on tiptoe and giving him a kiss. "Although now it looks like Mr. Donovan isn't doing so well."
He grinned, taking her hand. "I think it's about time we all head home. It's sure been a long day."
She nodded in agreement. "It certainly has!"
Sully tossed aside a few stray rocks littering the newly completed path. He couldn't believe the trail up the mountain he had designed, practically on his own, was nearly complete. There were only a few hundred yards of handrails to construct, followed by a few days of clearing aside any leftover rocks or branches. Galen Clark was slated to review their work next week. All they needed was Galen's stamp of approval and the trail could be open to park visitors.
Thaddeus stood nearby, driving a small pile of posts. His diligent scouting had allowed the development of the safest route up the mountain. Sully knew he had a lot to be proud of as well.
"Look at that. Sittin' around again," Thaddeus remarked, pausing to take a drink of water from his canteen. "A bunch of scamps them boys are."
Sully sighed, glancing downhill. If it weren't for Silas, Andy and a few other workers, everything about the project would have been perfect. The sluggish men had set them nearly half a day behind. Their indifferent attitudes frustrated Sully to no end. He must have had to remind them to get back to work at least once a day, and now it looked as if he would have to do it again. He trudged down the hill, eyeing the men sternly.
"I just called a break an hour ago," Sully said exasperatedly. "Let's get workin'."
Andy slowly rose to his feet and stomped out his cigar. "In a minute."
"Right now, Andy," Sully replied. "Start drivin' your posts."
Silas picked up the end of a long post with a sly grin, tucking it under his arm. "Sure, Sully. We'll get right on that." He spun around swiftly, whacking Sully squarely in the side with the opposite end of the post. Sully lost his footing and fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. Thaddeus dropped his hammer and came running to the scene.
"What're ya doin', Silas?" Sully demanded, slowly rising back to his feet and brushing himself off.
"Gettin' back to work, boss, like ya told me to," Silas retorted.
"You did that on purpose," Sully spat back.
"I saw the whole thing," Thaddeus added, out of breath.
Silas dropped the post to the ground. "What's the matter, Sully? Can't take a joke?" He stepped forward and reached his hand out to nudge Sully's chest playfully.
Sully caught the man's arm by the wrist, twisting him around to brace his back against his chest.
Silas cried out, struggling ineffectively against Sully's steadfast grasp. "Hey! You let me go! We was just havin' a little fun!"
"I won't be made a fool," Sully said vehemently. "I know you're up to no good. You and your friends here."
"What're ya talkin' about?" he shouted. "Get your hands off me ya Injun lover!"
Sully released him to the dust with a firm shove. "Get back to work or I'll report ya to Harper."
"I'll report you to Harper!" Silas growled, quickly rising to his feet and charging Sully.
"Get 'im, Silas!" Andy shouted as several workers hurried over to cheer on the fight.
Before Sully could react, Silas gave him a swift jab to the lip, splitting it evenly and sending a trickle of blood down his chin. Sully regained his senses within seconds, grabbed Silas's arms and pinned him on his stomach with his boot.
"What on God's green earth!" Harper bellowed, hurrying down the embankment and rushing over to the men. "Sully, what are you doing to this poor man? Let him go!"
Sully slowly released his hold, pressing his fingers to his lip as he stepped back.
"Did you see that?" Silas said, scrambling to his feet. "He attacked me, sir. He attacked me and nearly twisted my arm off!"
"Sully, is this true?" Harper asked, voice heavy with disappointment.
"No, sir, it ain't," Thaddeus cut in firmly, stepping forward. "Silas started it, sir. He knocked Sully over with a post, on purpose if you ask me. Didn't even so much as apologize."
"Silas?" Harper said, turning to the man. "Who started this childish scuffle? You? Speak up!"
"Well, he's been after me the whole time!" Silas replied firmly.
"Mr. Sully's job is precisely to get after you men," Harper told him. "If you don't like it, you're free to leave. Or perhaps you'd like to be asked to leave?"
"No, sir," Silas muttered.
"Then back to your work," Harper barked. "All of you!" He approached Sully, eyeing his lip. "You all right? Still fit to work?"
Sully nodded, swiping away the blood with the back of one hand.
"You realize I'm going to have to record this incident," Harper said regretfully. "If it had been any more serious it could have been grounds for expulsion. For the both of you. Try to keep your fists in check next time."
Sully swallowed, taking a deep breath.
"You're in charge of these men, Sully," Harper went on. "Don't be afraid of that."
"I ain't," Sully replied softly. "It's just...harder than I thought."
"Yes, but you're up to it," Harper replied, giving his back a firm pat. "Come with me. We'll get you something for that lip and then send you back out here."
Thaddeus waited for the men to leave, then grabbed Silas's arm firmly. "I saw what ya did."
"You didn't see nothin'," Silas retorted.
"Who's side are you on anyway, Thaddeus?" Andy demanded. "You been workin' here years and then Sully comes along, taps some nails for a few weeks and next thing we know he's in charge!"
Thaddeus spit tobacco juice to the side. "Sully deserved that promotion a hell of a lot more than you ever did. He works harder than all of ya combined and you know it."
"All I know is we got the short end of the stick here and I don't see why ya got a need to defend him," Andy said.
"Give it up, Andy," Silas said. "Half-breeds stick together, ain't that right, Tad?"
"Ya say that again, you'll be hearin' from me, too," Thaddeus said resolutely. "Take my advice. Stay away from Sully. And from me if ya know what's good for ya."
"I'm shakin' in my boots!" Silas replied with a roaring laugh.
* * *
Sully obeyed, pressing the damp cloth firmly against the trickle of blood from his lip.
Harper sat down at his small desk in the tent which he had converted to an office and opened his leather-bound log. He wrote speedily in it for a few seconds with his pen and inkwell, then closed the log and put it in the drawer of his desk. "Mr. Clark will be visiting here next week."
Sully nodded. "He'll be pleased with what we did."
"That's what I like to hear, Sully. Confidence," Harper replied. "You and Thaddeus did a fine job constructing that path. You make a good team."
"He's easy to work with," Sully said.
Harper pressed the end of his pen to his chin. "What do you say when Galen comes to survey the path, you and Thaddeus come along as well and bring your families. You can all make a day of it. You'll prove to Galen right there that the route up is now perfectly navigable by everyone."
"That's a good idea," Sully replied, slowly removing the cloth from his lip. "I know my wife and our kids would love to see the valley from up top. And meet Mr. Clark."
"Good. Tell Thaddeus the plans then." He eyed Sully's lip scrupulously. "Yes, that looks much better. How do you feel?"
Sully nodded. "Fine. Fit to work."
Harper smiled, standing up and patting his back. "Wonderful."
* * *
Brian tossed the base ball gently across the makeshift home base. Sully guided the stick to connect with the ball, sending it rolling a few paces past Brian.
"I did it!" Katie exclaimed. "I hit it, Papa!"
Byron leapt up from his position as the behind, clapping his hands. "Katie, you're good!"
Sully patted her back with a smile. "Go on over to first base. Let's give Byron a turn now."
Byron immediately stepped forward and took the bat with an eager smile. "Now teach me, Papa."
Michaela stepped out onto the porch, a warm damp cloth and a tin of salve in her hands. "I found something for your lip," she called.
"You try swinging the bat a little on your own," Sully said, laying his hand on Byron's shoulder. "I'll be right back, all right?" He stepped onto the porch and slowly took a seat.
"It's not bleeding," she remarked, sitting beside him and gently cleaning the wound with the cloth.
"It's nothin'," he said, resting his hand atop her thigh.
"Won't you even tell me how it happened?" Michaela asked, eyes filled with concern.
He sighed. "I did. It was just a little disagreement."
She placed the cloth aside and opened the tin. "Obviously it was more than that if someone felt the need to split your lip open. Sully, I'm trying to teach the children that fighting is never the answer and then their father comes home like this."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It really wasn't much, Michaela. You know I've mentioned Silas a few times."
"Oh, no," she breathed. "It was Silas who did this, wasn't it? What happened?"
"He and a few other men weren't doin' their jobs. I went to say somethin' and he got provoked. Took a post and knocked me over. I didn't wanna fight him but he asked for it one too many times."
Michaela dug her fingers into the thick salve and carefully spread it across Sully's wound. "Hold still. He's envious, Sully."
"Envious?" he murmured.
"Yes. Of you and the new position. If that man is so upset as to want to fight you, I can't imagine what else he could do. I'm worried, Sully."
"He's harmless," he said reassuringly. "He's just got a little temper, some loose fists, that's all.
"Did you tell Harper what happened?"
"I don't wanna cause anythin' between Harper and him."
"You have to tell Harper he's a danger to you," Michaela insisted, snapping the lid on the tin and resting it in her lap. "I don't want Silas working under you."
"Don't make more out of this than it is," Sully replied softly. "I can't get Silas fired or then he'll really have a reason to want to fight." He cupped her cheek in his hand, shifting closer. "It wasn't anything, Michaela. I promise. It'll all blow over." He leaned forward to kiss her, only to have Michaela press her fingers firmly against his chin, stopping him.
"No, don't," she protested. "I don't want salve all over me."
He chuckled, tapping her nose. "Oh, yeah."
"Rest your lips so they can heal, Sully," she murmured wryly. "Thankfully I don't think there's any permanent damage."
"I'll still be able to kiss ya?" he said, tickling her ribs with his fingers.
She nodded, pursing her lips to keep back a giggle. "Yes. You should be able to resume all ... normal activities within a few days."
"That's real good news," he whispered, wrapping his arm around her back lovingly.
* * *
"Mornin', folks," Sully called.
"Mornin', Sully. Ma'am," Thaddeus replied.
"All set to climb that mountain?" Sully asked.
"Sully, does this beat all?" Thaddeus replied as Jim and Luke came scurrying out of the cabin. "Me and my shootin' iron got ourselves a bear this mornin'! Believe you me I wasn't plannin' on this."
"We've got to get it skinned and the meat hung up to dry 'fore it goes bad," Carrie added, a dishtowel draped over her shoulder.
Thaddeus sighed regretfully, glancing at the wagon. "Don't see how we're gonna make it out to meet Mr. Clark today. Send our regrets, Sully."
"I don't feel right leavin' ya behind," Sully said. "Ya want me to stay here? Help ya skin it?"
"Oh, don't let us keep you," Carrie protested.
"That's right," Thaddeus added. "Clark needs somebody to show him the path. One of us has got to go."
Sully nodded, glancing at the boys. "Sorry we can't all come. But why don't ya let us take Jim and Luke along?"
"Oh, Pa! Please can we?" Jim piped up, grasping his sleeve.
"I don't know," Thaddeus replied. "These rascals are a lot of work."
"It's just for one day. They gotta see this valley, Thaddeus." He turned around, meeting Michaela's eyes. "We got plenty of sandwiches to go around packed in our picnic basket."
Michaela nodded hesitantly. She wasn't sure about keeping boisterous Jim and Luke around for an entire day, but she didn't think a simple hiking trip could pose any problems. After all, they were all going to stay together anyway. And she knew Byron and Katie would enjoy the outing even more if the boys were there. "We'd be happy to have them, Mr. Donovan," she spoke up sincerely.
"Well, all right. If you insist," Thaddeus said. "Jim, Luke, you boys mind Mr. and Miz Sully."
"We will!" Luke said enthusiastically as they ran to the back of the wagon and climbed in.
* * *
"Sully, how do you keep track of all these little ones?" Galen called, walking over and lifting Katie over the side.
Sully chuckled, giving Byron, Jim, Luke and Brian a hand down from the back as Michaela grabbed her sling from under the seat and settled the baby into it. "These two belong to Thaddeus. He's real sorry he couldn't make it today. This is Jim and Luke."
"Ah, I see. Good morning, Jim and Luke."
"Mornin', mister," Jim replied. "Can I see that stick?"
Galen laid it in his hands. "You may use it today, son. If you're careful."
"Gee, thanks!" the boy exclaimed.
Sully smiled and put his arm around Michaela. "This is my wife, Mr. Clark. Brian, Katie and Byron are ours. And the baby Jack."
Galen planted a light kiss on the back of her hand. "Charmed, Mrs. Sully. So glad you're joining us." He glanced at the baby, reaching into the sling to tap his nose. "Oh, what a beautiful child. Is there anything I could get you to make this hike a little easier? A basket to carry him in?"
"Oh, I think we'll be fine," Michaela said, smiling down at the baby and smoothing back his hair.
"We'll be takin' turns with him on the way up. 'Sides he ain't that heavy just yet," Sully added.
"You let me know if you have any difficulties at all," Galen insisted. "We can always slow down."
"Thank you, Mr. Clark," Michaela said. "That's very considerate."
"Not at all. In fact you're doing me a favor, madam. I want to see how this path stands up to the likes of you and your children. Well, shall we get started?"
Sully pulled the picnic basket out from the back of the wagon. "It'll stand up, Mr. Clark. Don't you worry."
* * *
"We almost there, Papa?" Byron spoke up quietly, tugging on his father's hand.
"About a half mile or so," Sully told him, glancing down. "How ya doin', son?"
Reluctant to admit how demanding the long hike was on him, Byron attempted to smile. "Good. We gonna sit down soon?"
Concerned, Sully paused, falling to his knees. The little boy was trying so hard to keep up with the older children, failing miserably. He had been lingering back at the end of the group with Sully for quite some time now. "Ya havin' trouble breathin', Byron? We can rest right now if ya need it."
"I think an attack's comin'," he whispered, inhaling unsteadily.
"All right. Just hang on," Sully said, caressing his arm. "Mr. Clark!" he called, glancing up the incline. "Hold up! We gotta stop here a minute!" Sully sat Byron on his knee. "Here, son. Arms up in the air." He helped Byron raise his arms above his head, then began rubbing his back.
"I'm taking ... little breaths, Papa," Byron said.
"That's good," Sully encouraged, gently kissing his head. "Just keep that up. You're doin' fine."
Michaela hurried back down the incline, Galen and the children following close behind. "What's wrong? An attack?"
"Just a little one," Byron choked out, glancing at Luke and Jim self-consciously.
Michaela took the picnic basket from Luke, set it on the ground and opened it. "I brought your chloroform, sweetheart," she said. "It's right here. You tell me when you want it."
Byron shook his head firmly. "It's goin'...a-away."
"Is the boy all right?" Galen spoke up worriedly, squatting down and resting his hands on his knees.
"He will be," Sully said reassuringly. "He has trouble breathin' sometimes."
"He's had asthma since he was three," Michaela explained. "We're getting better at controlling it, aren't we, Byron?"
He smiled faintly. "I don't gotta have medicine so much."
"But we always bring chloroform with us wherever we go," Michaela said softly. "We never know when he'll need it."
Jim stepped forward tentatively, clutching the walking stick. "Does it hurt, Byron?"
"No," Byron replied. "It doesn't hurt."
"It's just a little frightening, that's all," Michaela spoke up, caressing his head sympathetically.
"But I'm brave," Byron added resolutely.
"You're real brave. Just like the Cheyenne," Sully murmured, slowly nudging him off his knee to his feet. "Is it gone?"
"Yep, all gone," the little boy affirmed. "We can keep hikin' now. I want to."
"Sully, you'd better carry him," Michaela said.
"Mama, please, no," Byron protested in a whisper, humiliated. "Mama, please."
"Here, let me," Galen spoke up, removing his jacket and handing it to Sully. "You can ride pick-back on my shoulders, would you like that, son? You may have noticed I'm quite tall. I bet you'd have a bird's eye view of everything up there."
Reluctantly, Byron stepped toward him and looked up. "I guess you are pretty tall."
Galen crouched back down. "Lift him over my shoulders, Sully. The boy says we should keep going."
"Mr. Clark, ya sure ya want-?" Sully questioned.
"Yes, yes, I'm sure," Galen said, motioning with one hand. "Lift him up."
Sully boosted Byron onto Galen and patted the child's back. "Hold on tight."
"Come along, Byron," Galen said, grasping the boy's knees and forging back up the hill. "We'll lead the way!"
* * *
Michaela, Sully and the children gathered around Galen, enthralled as he spoke. Not only was the man guardian of Yosemite, but a gifted storyteller as well.
"Did he make it through, Mr. Clark?" Brian asked, resting his back against a tree.
"Hetch Hetchy Valley never saw a soul so stubborn," Galen replied. "He kept up for a few days, but by the time we forded the gorge he just couldn't go on any longer. Of course I wasn't about to turn around. We had the fellow make camp for the evening where he stopped and wait there for us to finish the hike." His eyes squinted with amusement, though he failed to betray a smile. "Wouldn't you believe when we came back later that night, he has a stick in one hand as if he's about to spear something dead. Muir says what the devil's going on? You should have seen the poor boy's face. Trembling and white as a sheet! He replies he's sure he saw a mountain lion and it's going to eat us all!"
"Well, what was it?" Michaela asked with a smile, the baby nestled in her lap and snoozing contently.
"Well, Muir and I ventured in the direction he pointed, armed to the teeth. There we were set to do battle. Then the boy shouts, 'That's him there!' We braced ourselves, took a few more steps forward and low and beyond there it was. A big, fat rock!"
"A rock!" Byron exclaimed as everyone burst into laughter.
"Oh, no," Michaela added, grinning. "He must have been mortified."
"That he was," Galen affirmed, his face ever serious.
Sully gave Michaela's blouse sleeve a playful tug. "Reminds me of how you were."
Brian chuckled, nodding. "Yeah."
"I was not!" Michaela protested, eyeing them with affront. "Mr. Clark, I assure you they're exaggerating."
"No we ain't," Brian spoke up, grinning impishly.
"If you don't mind I'll stay out of this matter," Galen replied, the smallest trace of a smirk at his lips.
Jim stood up with the walking stick. "Can we go explore?"
"Yeah. I wanna pick some flowers," Katie added.
Byron stood up. "Yeah, let's go."
"Are you sure you don't want to stay here and rest, sweetheart?" Michaela asked, eyeing Byron with concern.
The little boy shook his head vehemently. "I'm all better. Really."
"I believe this mountain air is doing him a world of good," Galen spoke up.
Sully gently squeezed Michaela's hand. "I don't see the harm in lettin' 'em take a little walk. As long as they stay nearby."
Michaela reluctantly nodded. "All right. If you stay right nearby. Come straight back here if you feel another attack coming, Byron. And slow down if you're tired."
"Mama," Byron said, groaning exasperatedly.
Luke sprang to his feet. "Come on. Let's look for deer tracks."
The three younger children followed quickly after him, forging a few hundred yards into the woods. Katie immediately busied herself with gathering the various wildflowers sprouting amongst the trees while the boys wandered nearby.
"Hey, Byron? You wanna play boxing?" Luke asked.
"I thought we're gonna look for deer tracks," Byron replied, eyeing the ground.
"I just said that so your ma wouldn't get all vexed and make us sit on the blanket while they all talk. So, ya wanna play?"
"Boxing?" Byron murmured.
Luke picked up a nearby stick. "Yeah. We can draw a ring in the dirt. I'll be John Sullivan."
"I want to be John Sullivan," Jim protested, resting his walking stick against a nearby tree and clutching his suspenders.
"No, I said I'm John Sullivan," Luke said firmly.
"How come you get to be him? You always are! That's no fair," Jim replied, crossing his arms.
"I'm the oldest that's how come." He turned back to Byron. "Who do you wanna be? Cockey Woods or Jack Scannell? You get to choose next."
Jim scowled angrily. "This ain't fair, Luke!"
"...How do you play boxing?" Byron asked tentatively.
"You mean to say your pa never took ya to see a match?" Luke questioned.
Byron shook his head shyly.
"Me and Luke have been to lots in Salt Lake City," Jim said proudly. "We saw a fella punch another fella, busted his nose right into his face. He fell straight to the ground, out cold. It was great."
Byron drew in his breath. "Oh, no. Did he say sorry?"
"Sorry?" Luke echoed with a chuckle. "Now why in blazes would he do that? It's a game, Byron. Two fellas get inside a ring and they go at each other, punchin' and hittin' until one or both of 'em gets knocked out. Then the winner is the man standing."
"But my mama says I shouldn't hit," Byron replied.
"Your mama says...what are you? Some kinda sissy?" Jim demanded.
"Yeah, why don't ya go over and pick girly pink flowers with your sister," Luke added.
"No!" Byron said firmly. "Please, I'll play. I just gotta learn how."
"Jim and me will have a round," Luke said, drawing a large square in the dust with the stick. "Watch us. It's easy."
"I guess I'll be Jack Scannell," Jim said with a fierce sigh, rolling up his sleeves. "But he's a rotten boxer. You better let me be Sullivan next time!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets!" Luke shouted, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the ground, "The great John Sullivan will now take on his honorable opponent Jack Scannell. Round one!"
* * *
Sully tickled the baby's chest and smiled as Jack awoke from his afternoon snooze, blinking lazily in the warm sunlight. "Must be about every few weeks or so," he said.
"Sometimes more often, sometimes less," Michaela added.
"I had a lung ailment myself," Galen remarked.
"You did? Asthma?" Brian questioned, pausing in writing in his journal.
"No, but symptoms quite similar. You see I used to be a miner back East," he said. "I eventually contracted a severe cold. Breathing was very arduous. Often times I would cough blood."
"That sounds like silicosis. Miner's consumption," Michaela said, intrigued.
"Precisely. My physicians told me they could do very little for me and I had but a year to live. It was then that I came here to these woods and mountains and staked a claim." He gazed out at the valley reverently. "I owe this land my life. I was very much cured in a short time. That was more than twenty years ago."
"That's remarkable," Michaela said, drawing in her breath.
"Yes, I plan to carry out the rest of my life here," he went on. "And then when the good Lord calls me home, I want to be buried up near my cabin, under the sequoia trees."
"Sounds like a nice place," Sully said.
"But that won't be for awhile yet. I expect to live to a hundred now," Galen went on. "I'm sixty-four and I've never felt better in my life. I believe quite strongly in the healing powers of this pure air and these surroundings. It could do the same for your son. You must push the boy, of course, as I did today. You mustn't allow him to give up and turn around just because he's feeling tired. He can take on more than you suspect and be all the better for it."
"Now that you mention this, Byron's attacks have seemed to be occurring less frequently lately," Michaela admitted, placing her hand atop Sully's and squeezing it hopefully.
"All he wants to do is be able to run and play with the other kids," Sully murmured.
"And I believe he will, Mr. Sully," Galen said. "A while more in this place and I suspect his lung difficulties will all but vanish."
"I don't know if we should hope for that," Michaela said doubtfully. "But certainly any improvement is a step in the right direction."
"Of course," Galen replied.
Brian crossed his arms idly across his chest. "Pa was a miner, too, Mr. Clark. Silver. When he first came to Colorado."
"Is that right?" Galen said.
Sully picked up Katie's bear and touched it to Jack's nose playfully. "That was a long time ago."
"You don't remember how to operate explosives, do you?" Galen questioned, leaning forward.
Sully shrugged, looking up. "I s'pose. But I don't got much interest in doin' that anymore."
"I hope you'll reconsider because I've been looking for a man who knows his way around blasting powder. And who could teach others."
"For what?" Sully asked, his interest piqued. "Not for mining."
"No, of course not. I want to remove the moraine here as soon as possible."
"What's the moraine?" Brian asked.
"Moraine, that's a locale of rubble dropped by glaciers," Galen explained. "It's situated between Cathedral Rock and El Capitan. The only way to clear it is to blast it away. Now I know my explosives, but I simply can't do the job all on my own. Sully, do you believe you could teach some of the men on your team the basics of dynamiting debris?"
"This sounds dangerous, Mr. Clark," Michaela spoke up.
"Not if everyone is instructed properly," Galen told her. "Think how much faster I could get the job done with Sully and his men assisting me."
"My men?" Sully murmured.
"Yes. Naturally, I'd put you in charge. That is, unless you don't feel qualified."
"I'm qualified," Sully said with confidence. "I worked the mines for years."
"Then what's the dilemma?" he asked.
Sully smiled softly. "None I s'pose."
"Then you'll do it!" Galen said.
Sully nodded, glancing at Michaela and squeezing her hand. "Yeah. I'll do it."
"The children are back," she remarked as the boys approached the blanket, faces clouded with guilt. Katie trailed close behind.
"What's the matter?" Michaela immediately asked, handing the baby to Sully and rising to her feet.
Jim slowly removed his hand from his nose, revealing a steady stream of blood trickling from the nostrils.
"I hurt myself," he said, voice muffled.
"Oh, Jim," Michaela breathed, reaching into her petticoat pocket, finding a handkerchief and pressing it to his nose. "Here, sit down."
"What happened?" Sully asked, shifting to make room on the blanket for the child.
"It was a mountain lion, sir!" Luke spoke up decisively.
"It was not!" Katie protested. "They were playing box-"
Luke quickly reached behind Katie and pinched her arm, quieting her. "It was a mountain lion and he came and tried to kill Jim! We ran for our lives." He eyed Byron hopefully. "Ain't that right, kid?"
Byron cleared his throat hesitantly, staring at his feet. "...Yeah. We ran fast, Papa."
"Well, you're lucky this mountain lion didn't do any more damage, " Michaela said, eyeing Sully skeptically. "Just pinch your nose, Jim. The bleeding should stop momentarily."
Sully clutched Byron's arm, disappointed that the little boy, for whatever reason, clearly wasn't being honest. Maybe Michaela was right about Byron going along with whatever the boys told him. "If there's a mountain lion after ya, then you best stay here on the blanket," he remarked.
"But we want to look for more deer tracks," Luke said.
"We want to play some more, Papa," Byron added.
Sully stood up, settling the baby over his shoulder. "No, son. I don't wanna risk havin' that lion come back. You boys sit down here now. All three of ya."
Reluctantly, Byron sank to his knees.
Sully took Katie's hand. "Ya wanna look at the valley again with Jack and me? I know a real good spot."
Katie beamed. "Yeah."
"I'll come, too!" Byron said, rising back to his feet.
"No. Your Papa said to stay here, Byron," Michaela told him, nudging him back down.
Byron crossed his arms dejectedly, tears of disappointment threatening to spill from his eyes. "All right," he grumbled.
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