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"Brian, is the Pasfic Ocean like our lake?" Katie asked as she dipped a string tied to a dowel in and out of the cauldron of hot wax.
Brian glanced out at the lake pensively as he dipped two dowels of string into the wax. "Pacific. It's sort of like a lake, only a lot bigger. In my books it says it's so big it takes weeks to cross it. It's even bigger than the ocean I saw in Boston where Gran'ma lives."
Byron absently held his dowel over the cauldron. "Can you catch fish in it?"
"Sure. I bet ya could," Brian said. "Don't hold your string so long in there, B. Your candle's gonna turn out all lumpy."
"Maybe I want it lumpy," Byron replied defiantly.
"Don't be silly. Nobody likes a lumpy candle," Brian said.
"Are you almost finished?" Michaela called, opening the door and drying her hands on a towel. "Lunch is going to be ready in a few minutes."
Byron looked up at her. "Mama, Brian said I'm makin' my candle lumpy and no one will like it. But I want it this way."
"Well, it's true, Ma," Brian said. "He's doin' it all wrong."
"It's his candle, Brian," Michaela said, walking up to the children. "I don't see why he can't make it the way he wants."
"I guess," Brian replied with a sigh. "I was just thinkin' we could give some of our best candles to Ethan and Lillian-as a present for havin' us."
"That's a nice idea, but I imagine they would prefer store-bought candles," Michaela said. "We could get them some candles in Fresno before we leave if you really want to."
"I like these ones better," Katie spoke up, removing her growing candle from the wax and gazing at it proudly. "When I see it burning I'll know I made it."
"How come we don't buy candles, Mama?" Byron asked.
"Well, it's more economical to make them, sweetheart," Michaela explained.
"Eco...eco-nomcal?" Byron repeated.
Michaela patted his back with a grin. "In other words store-bought candles can be expensive."
"Not to Ethan and Miss Lillian," Brian said. "They live in a big house and buy all the nicest things."
"How? Do they got lots of money? I wonder how much they got!" Byron said.
"Maybe almost ten dollars!" Katie exclaimed, blowing on the wax of her candle to dry it.
"Don't you two ask them that when we visit. That's not polite," Brian said sternly. "But I know it must be a lot more than ten dollars."
"How come Ethan lives so far away from ya at the ocean?" Byron questioned. "Doesn't he like you? Don't worry, I still like you, Brian."
Michaela put her arm around the little boy uncomfortably. "Byron, we've already talked all about Brian, Matthew and Colleen. We talked about why they don't live with Ethan, remember?"
"Yeah, but I forgot," he replied simply.
"I just got two families, B., that's all," Brian explained, pulling his candles from the wax to dry.
"A whole other papa and mama ?" Katie asked.
Brian bent to her level. "Kate, Ethan isn't really like a pa. He's more like...my friend. Lillian, too. But I can't wait to see them. Wouldn't you want to visit some friends ya hadn't seen in awhile?"
"Yeah. But I never even seen them at all," Katie replied.
"I know, but I really want ya to come with me," Brian said with a smile. "I want Ethan to meet my sister and my little brothers. I'm real proud of them."
"Ya are?" Byron asked quietly.
Brian tousled his hair. "Yeah. I am."
"Brian, I want to give my candle to Miss Lillian," Byron said, pulling out his uneven, bumpy string of wax.
"Ma-," Brian began in protest.
"Oh, but I want your candle, sweetheart," Michaela quickly said. "I was hoping you might give it to me."
"Well...if you really want it," Byron said reluctantly.
"I do," Michaela replied, kissing his head. "But first I'm hungry. Let's go inside and eat!"
The reverend rested his chin on the brace of the ophthalmoscope and waited impatiently for Dr. Willard to finish his examination. "Any change?" he asked.
Simon sat back and blew out the candle. "How long ago did you lose your sight?"
"Oh, about six years now," the reverend replied. "Sometimes it seems like longer."
"I see," Simon replied, placing the ophthalmoscope in its case.
"So there's no change," the reverend said, rising from his seat.
"No, none," Simon replied.
"I s'pose I'll see ya again in six months then," he replied.
Simon latched the case closed, looking up curiously. "Six months? What for?"
"Well, Dr. Mike usually likes to take a look at my eyes about twice a year," the reverend replied. "I figured maybe you'd want to, too."
Simon sat down at the desk and began writing out a bill. "Reverend Johnson, I have a feeling Dr. Quinn has not been honest with you. You're blind. You're not going to wake up one day and suddenly be able to see."
The reverend swallowed hard. "Dr. Mike says we should be optimistic."
"If you'd like to continue your checkups with her once she returns, be my guest. However, I have no need to examine you again, unless of course you insist on it."
The reverend pulled out a few coins and placed them on the desk. "No. That's all right."
Simon handed him his receipt, noting the man's subdued expression. "Reverend, I don't mean to disappoint you. But I believe in telling my patients the truth, not filling their heads with false hope in the manner Dr. Quinn seems so fond of." He stood up and grasped his shoulder. "You can still do very many things. You've learned to get around, you can read, you still have all your other senses. Most importantly, you don't seem to be wallowing in self-pity. I would hate to see that. I would say you've made out better than many other blind patients I've attended to."
"Well, my faith has helped a great deal," the reverend said quietly.
Simon opened the door. "Yes, yes, I'm sure it has. I have another appointment scheduled in a few minutes. You'll have to excuse me. I'll see you in church."
"See," the reverend echoed with a sigh. "Yes, I'll see you then."
* * *
"Did we do real bad?" Byron asked nervously.
Michaela handed him his paper. "Byron...three incorrect." She turned to Katie and gave her the other paper. "Katie...two incorrect. I believe if I've done my own calculations right, that's an A minus for both of you."
"That's good!" Brian said, reaching out to tap his little brother's chin. "Congratulations."
Michaela smiled and drew them to her in a hug. "I made each of your tests challenging and you both performed very well. I'm proud of you."
"Yea!" Byron squealed.
"Should we fix what we got wrong now?" Katie asked tentatively.
Michaela smiled. "We can wait until next week. That will be our last lesson before we leave for San Francisco. You may go out and play if you'd like."
Byron whisked off his spectacles and handed them to Michaela. "I gotta dig some more worms."
"I'll help," Katie said.
"Stay nearby," Michaela reminded them, walking across the room and lifting Jack from his cradle.
"They did better than I thought they would," Brian said, closing his books and stacking them neatly back in the crate.
"They surprise me every day," Michaela said, carrying Jack to the fire and pulling down a box of the powdered infant food from the shelf as Sully lifted the latch of the door.
"Pa, you're home already," Brian called.
"Harper let me go a few hours early. Last day," Sully explained, hanging up his coat. He handed Brian a letter with a wink. "Mail came. From Sarah."
"Thanks," Brian said, grinning and tearing back the envelope.
"Two letters from Dorothy and Grace," Sully added, walking across the room and kissing Michaela in greeting.
"Oh, wonderful," she replied, pouring the powder and some water into a bowl. "We can all read them after supper."
Sully nudged the envelopes onto the mantel and then took the baby from Michaela, lifting him over his head and giving him a kiss. "How was he today?"
"Not good. Tell Papa what happened, Jack," Michaela said, eyeing the baby with a frown. "You cried all morning, didn't you? Mama didn't know what on earth to do." She sighed deeply. "We had to push back the children's lessons until this afternoon when he was sleeping, Sully."
"He seems fine now," Sully said, rubbing the baby's back as he grasped his father's beads.
"Yes, he always acts perfectly fine once he's finished crying," Michaela said, stirring the powder with the water. "I haven't even thought about what to cook for supper yet, Sully. I'm sorry."
"It's all right. What do you say me and Brian go and catch us some fish from the lake?"
She paused in stirring and kissed him. "Yes. Thank you."
Sully turned from the stove. "Brian? Ya wanna go fish-"
Brian was standing beside the table, face pale as he stared at Sarah's letter. Without a word, he rushed outside, letting the door swing after him.
"What's wrong, Sully?" Michaela asked, stepping away from the stove.
"I don't know. Maybe I should go talk to him," he replied.
Michaela paused, gazing out the door. "I'll go. Could you get the baby fed?"
He took her place in front of the table and grabbed a bottle from the shelf. "Yeah. Sure."
Michaela slowly crossed the room and walked outside where Byron and Katie were busy digging another hole in the yard. She spotted Brian trudging down to the shoreline and followed him briskly. When she reached the shore, he was collapsed on a log, elbows resting dejectedly on his knees and the letter clutched in one hand.
"Brian? May I sit down?" she asked.
Brian nudged over to make room for her on the log.
"What happened?" Michaela said.
Brian swallowed hard, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's nothin', Ma."
"You don't act like it's nothing," Michaela said softly. "You've always been able to confide in me."
He shrugged. "That was when I was a kid. I'm older now. It's different."
Michaela bit her lip, hurt by his words. "All right. I understand."
He glanced at her, sensing her upset. "Wait...I guess maybe ya might be able to help. You're a lady after all."
She smiled faintly. "Yes, I suppose so."
He unfolded the letter, swallowing hard. "Sarah wants a...a break. A break from us."
"Oh. Did she meet another boy?" Michaela asked softly.
"No, she said it ain't that," Brian replied. "She says it's just harder than she thought, bein' so far away like this with our letters not gettin' to each other for weeks. She can't pay attention in school, her grades are fallin', she don't feel like bein' with her friends anymore or doin' much of anythin'. Her ma's startin' to get worried."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Michaela said.
Brian sighed. "She says she's always thinkin' about all the interestin' things I must be doin' and seein' and how she's not a part of it. I guess she feels left out."
"That's understandable," Michaela said. "It's hard to watch someone else have opportunities we'd like to share as well."
He rested his hands on his knees. "I thought it could work, Ma. I thought if we could do this...then we'd know for sure it was meant to be."
Michaela folded her hands. "Well, Sully and I needed a break when we were courting. We called everything off for several months, remember? That didn't mean we weren't meant to be. We just needed some time to think."
"Maybe that's all this is. Sarah needs some time to think," Brian murmured.
"You've never had to be apart from each other before, Brian. It's a great challenge for both of you. Perhaps slowing things down for awhile is a wise idea." She eyed him uncertainly. "What exactly does she mean by a break?"
He picked up a stick and tapped the end to the water absently. "We ain't gonna be a couple for right now. We can meet other people. But what other people does she think I'm gonna meet out here? And sides, I don't care about meetin' anybody else. She's the girl I want."
"It's wonderful that you're so certain," Michaela said, "but there's nothing wrong with broadening your horizons. Perhaps she just means you two need to spend some time trying to enjoy things without the other." She put her arm around him. "I would hate to see you moping around our entire time in San Francisco. I want you to have a good time."
"Goin' there sounds perfect right now," he replied. "I can get my mind off this for a little bit."
"That's a good idea," she said.
"Ya need some help with supper, or with Jack?" Brian asked.
Michaela patted his shoulder. "No, that's all right. I'll call you when we're ready to eat."
He clasped her hand. "Ma? Thanks."
"Thank you for letting me sit with you," she said, giving his forehead a gentle kiss.
* * *
"You are?" Michaela asked as she tucked a pair of Jack's booties in the carpetbag on the bed.
Byron led her over to the cots where Brian and Katie were busy filling their own carpetbags. He pointed at the satchel Brian had given him to take to San Francisco. "I fit everything."
"I could have helped you pack, sweetheart," Michaela said, loosening the straps on the satchel and flipping back the top. "I don't want you to forget something." She let out a chuckle, pulling from the satchel a toy train engine, a little wooden boat and a baseball. "What are these?"
"My toys," he said sensibly.
Michaela emptied the satchel, uncovering another baseball, the rest of the train cars, a colorful storybook and the child's beloved stuffed puppy. "Let's start over, shall we? We need to pack trousers, shirts and socks first. And you may pick one toy to bring."
"All right," Byron said, relenting. "I guess my puppy."
"Excellent choice," Michaela said, carefully laying the stuffed animal on the bottom of the satchel. "Why don't you find your good shoes and we'll put those in next. We'll need to wear our very finest in San Francisco."
Byron dug under his cot, pulling out a few stray stockings, one shoe and one deerskin slipper.
"Byron, that's mine!" Katie exclaimed, abandoning her carpetbag and grabbing the slipper from her little brother. "You were hiding it!"
"Was not," Byron protested, getting back on his feet. "You lost it."
"You took it," Katie accused, clutching it to her chest. "Mama, he stole my slipper and hid it under his bed."
Michaela let out a deep sigh. "The point is you have it back, Katie. We all need to keep packing or we won't be ready to go in the morning."
Brian folded a button-down shirt and laid it in his carpetbag. "I'm about done, Ma. I could help them pack."
"All right. Thank you, Brian," Michaela said, walking back to her bed and picking up a small pile of Sully's dress shirts. "But no more toys." She laid the shirts in their carpetbag as the steady chopping of wood continued from outside. Sully hadn't been in the cabin for a few hours. He had spent the entire day taking care of the last of the chores before they left for the week, hardly saying a word. Michaela thought he was being far too quiet, even for him. Concerned, she headed for the door, glancing at the children. "I'll be right back. Keep packing."
She strolled outside to the stump, watching Sully for a few moments. His shirt was damp with sweat and his hands were firm and tight around the handle of the ax. He brought it down on a roll of wood, gritting his teeth with the effort.
"Why are you splitting so much wood, Sully?" Michaela asked as he added the two pieces to a large pile of kindling. "We aren't even going to be here."
Sully gazed at the kindling silently as if he had just noticed how much he had chopped.
She reached out and caressed his arm. "Could you take a break now? I could use your help with getting everyone ready to leave."
He tapped the blade of the ax into the stump for safekeeping and took a swig from his canteen. "Yeah. In a minute."
"Sully, what's wrong?" she whispered. "Tell me what you're thinking."
"Nothin'," he said quietly.
"Aren't you excited to see San Francisco?" she asked, smiling ever so slightly.
He shrugged. "I s'pose."
"Brian's thrilled. He can't stop talking about it," she told him. "The Pacific Ocean, the schooners...Ethan."
"Ethan," Sully murmured. "I don't know what it is, Michaela. I just got this bad feelin' about him I can't shake. Maybe we shouldn't be goin' through with this."
"But we already promised Brian. We can't just back out at the last minute."
"I know," he replied. "You're right. I just want to be real careful."
"We will," she said. "I think we're already doing the best thing by going as a family. From what Brian's said, Ethan sounds truly happy he's coming. I don't detect any other motive other than wanting to see him."
Sully grasped her hand, reassured. "Folks can change, right?"
She smiled. "Yes. They can."
"Hope you're right," Sully murmured, drawing her to his side.
"I am," she said, giving him a kiss. "Besides, we're doing this for Brian, remember?"
He nodded. "For Brian."
* * *
"Brian!" Ethan shouted, emerging from the crowd and hurrying over to the stage, Lillian holding his hand.
The young man beamed, stepping forward as the couple approached him. "Ethan!" he said, grasping his hand and giving it a firm shake.
"Brian, my goodness. Look at this," Ethan breathed, holding his hand tightly, a trace of tears glistening in his eyes. "You're taller than me, son!"
"And so handsome," Lillian added, smiling wide. "It's wonderful to see you again, Brian."
"Miss Lillian," Brian replied, giving her cheek a kiss. "Thanks for havin' me." He turned around as the rest of the family climbed down from the stage and the drivers began unloading their luggage. "Ethan, Miss Lillian, ya gotta meet my sister and brothers."
Lillian drew in her breath as Michaela stepped forward, the baby on her hip and Katie and Byron on either side of her, gazing up at the unfamiliar pair of faces uncertainly.
"Oh, Dr. Mike," Lillian murmured, slowly crouching to the children's level. "Are these...? Oh."
"This is Katie and Byron," Michaela whispered. "And Jack."
Lillian grasped Katie's fingers with her gloved hand. "Hello."
"Katie? What do you say?" Michaela spoke up encouragingly.
"Hello, Miz Cooper," Katie said softly, peeking out from beneath her traveling bonnet.
"Oh, you're a darling. You may call me Lillian, all right?" she replied.
"Hello, Lillian," Byron spoke up, his little navy blue vest, coat and trousers a bit wrinkled from the coach ride.
Lillian shook his hand. "Hello. Your ensemble is quite striking, Byron. I like the color."
Byron shyly grabbed hold of Michaela's skirts, slowly smiling.
Lillian rose to her feet, smoothing the baby's hair and giving his head a soft kiss. "They're just wonderful."
Michaela nodded uncomfortably, guilt settling in her stomach as she realized she and Sully had been blessed with everything Lillian had ever hoped for and more.
Lillian gave her a warm hug, breaking the awkward moment. "I'm so glad you came, Dr. Mike."
"I'm glad we did, too," Michaela replied, holding her tight. "It's so kind of you to have all of us."
Sully stepped forward and gently clasped Lillian's hand. "Good to see ya."
"And you, Mr. Sully," Lillian replied.
Sully swallowed hard and held his hand out to Brian's father. "Ethan."
"Mr. Sully," Ethan replied evenly, shaking his hand and putting his free arm around Brian fondly. "Thank you for bringing the boy out here. We've missed him."
"Sure," Sully murmured, releasing his hand and stepping back to Michaela's side.
"Well, you must be just exhausted," Lillian remarked. "Ethan, let's take them to the house and get them settled in."
"Arthur," Ethan called, motioning to a tall, young Chinese servant standing a few paces away. "Bring the carriage around and load the luggage."
"Yes, sir," the servant said promptly, disappearing into the crowd.
"Do ya really have a house right on the ocean?" Brian asked curiously.
"Right on the ocean," Ethan replied with a smile. "Come on, son. Let's go home."
* * *
"What are all those lights out there?" Byron spoke up, lips red with cherry juice.
"Those are ships," Brian explained, sighing reverently. "Wonder who they all belong to."
"In fact several of them belong to me, son," Ethan said, slicing his fork through his cheesecake.
Brian perked up. "Really? How many?"
"Oh, I must own about two dozen schooners by now," Ethan said nonchalantly.
"How did you acquire two dozen schooners, Mr. Cooper?" Michaela asked curiously.
"Shrewd investment, Dr. Quinn," Ethan said, tapping his finger to his temple. "Careful, shrewd investment." He eyed Brian. "What do you say we take a tour of some of my grandest schooners? You and I and Lillian can go down to the harbor tomorrow morning."
"Could we? I'd like that." He glanced at Michaela and Sully. "But what about-"
"Sully and I want you to spend some time together, Brian," Michaela said, patting his hand reassuringly. "We're going to take the children out to see the city tomorrow. Don't worry about us."
"That's a lovely idea, Dr. Quinn," Ethan remarked. "I'll arrange to have one of our drivers at your disposal. He'll take you anywhere you'd like to go."
"You must be certain to pay a visit to the seashore," Lillian added.
"The seashore? What's there to do at the seashore?" Katie asked.
"Oh, the seashore is all the rage. You children would love it," Lillian replied as Byron and Katie's eyes brightened with excitement. "Sandcastles, croquet, venders selling all sorts of food and renting out enormous umbrellas to stick in the sand for shade. And swimming of course. You brought your bathing costumes, didn't you?"
"Nobody uses bathin' costumes in Colorado," Brian said.
"Oh, I see," Lillian said uncomfortably. "Well, gentlemen may wear trousers and underclothes, but Dr. Mike, you and Katie really must have bathing costumes. I know a reasonable shop where you can find something. I'll tell the driver to take you there first thing."
"You'll have a grand time. San Francisco is the place to be," Ethan said as another servant came out with a tray of two glasses of brandy. He nodded at Sully. "Join me for a drink out on the porch?"
Sully hesitated, glancing at Michaela. She reached beneath the table and gently squeezed his knee encouragingly. Visiting Ethan meant everything to Brian, and so far, nothing had gone wrong. Sully and Michaela were convinced maintaining warm and friendly relations with the Coopers was essential for everyone's well being. The last thing they wanted was another fiasco like the last time they had seen Ethan. Sully stood up, pushing his chair in. If that meant humoring Ethan with a few sips of brandy, he was willing. "Let's go," he murmured.
* * *
"It's fine," Sully murmured, resting the glass on the porch ledge and absently gazing at the harbor.
"I want to thank you again for allowing Brian to come out and visit us," Ethan said. "You don't know how much it means to me."
Sully eyed him skeptically. "You're welcome."
"His letters are filled with vivid descriptions of this Yosemite place," he went on. "It sounds spectacular."
Sully nodded. "Folks say it's the most beautiful place on earth."
"Really," Ethan murmured. "I'm curious. Tell me more."
"I didn't know it interested ya."
Ethan chuckled softly. "Potential-that's what interests me, Mr. Sully."
Sully folded his arms and leaned against the porch rail. "It's got huge waterfalls and granite cliffs, deep lakes that reflect the mountains, trees thirty feet around at the base."
"I see," Ethan replied, stepping closer. "And you truly believe this place deserves to become a national park?"
"I do," Sully replied. "It's gonna be someday."
"No one would come to visit it," Ethan challenged, pulling a cigar from his vest pocket and lighting it. "It's in the middle of nowhere."
"They'll come," Sully said with confidence. "They already are comin'. Word's gonna spread, friends are gonna tell friends." He let out a soft sigh.
"What? Isn't that a good thing?" Ethan questioned.
Sully took a small sip of the brandy. "In some ways. I want people to see it. But thousands of feet trooping across the land are gonna run it down. People are gonna litter, pick all the flowers, spoil things. That's why I'm tryin' to make sturdy paths and trails for folks to stay on."
"You really believe thousands of people are going to come, Mr. Sully," Ethan said, puffing pensively on his cigar.
"Millions, Ethan," Sully said softly.
"So the work you're doing now for this Harper fellow, his construction company has a bright future in the place."
"As far as I can tell. Lodges are always gonna need to be built, kept up, paths repaired," Sully said.
"Millions of people," Ethan replied, a slight smile forming across his lips. He took a swift swig of his brandy. "My, my, my."
* * *
"Come in," Michaela called from the bed. Jack was nestled in her lap, finishing the last of his bottle. Sully sat beside them, tenderly stroking Jack's wispy hair as the baby looked up at him with wide eyes.
"How do you like the room? Is there anything you need?" Lillian asked, slowly approaching the bed.
"It's very nice," Michaela said, drawing in her breath as Jack burst into a smile, reaching his hand up to touch Sully's whiskers.
Lillian turned around, motioning to a Chinese servant shyly standing outside the door. "Theo, bring in the bassinette," she instructed.
Tentatively, the young man wheeled a beautiful white wicker bassinette into the room.
"Jack has to have a place to sleep," Lillian said, taking the bassinet from the servant and positioning it at the end of the bed. "Thank you, Theo. You're free to go home now."
"Goodnight, Miz Cooper," he said, tipping his head to her and hurrying out of the room.
Michaela looked up, surprised. "Oh, Lillian. It's beautiful."
She smiled, gazing at Jack pensively. "Ethan had it made...before. It's just been sitting in our attic gathering dust. We might as well put it to good use. I had Theo bring it down and clean it."
Michaela nodded softly, standing up from the bed and carrying Jack over to the bassinette. "That was very thoughtful of you. You didn't have to go to so much trouble."
"See if he likes it," Lillian encouraged, patting the wooly blankets she had carefully folded and laid inside.
Michaela tucked Jack under one of the blankets and held his bottle back to his lips. The little boy wrapped his fingers around the bottle and clutched it tightly. "Yes, I think this is going to suit him just fine."
"Thanks," Sully spoke up, joining the women at the bassinette. "Hey, Jack. Ya like this bed, don't ya?"
The baby kicked his legs, brightening at seeing his father's face again.
"Oh, he's so sweet," Lillian murmured, gently caressing Jack's cheek. "Well, we'll see you in the morning at breakfast. Goodnight." She quickly walked over to the door, shutting it after her.
"That was nice of her," Sully remarked, gazing at Jack lovingly.
Michaela grasped the edge of the bassinette with her free hand as she watched Jack. "I feel terrible, Sully."
"I know. Nothin' we can do," Sully said, gently caressing her back.
"I suppose," she said, covering her mouth and yawning softly.
Sully took the bottle from her. "It's gettin' late. Let's get to bed."
Suddenly Katie burst through the door, the front of her nightgown damp with a splash of water.
"Katie, you didn't knock," Michaela scolded tiredly.
"Byron spilled water all over me washin' up," she said, crossing her arms.
Byron followed his sister into the room. "She wouldn't make room for me at the sink."
"Now I'm all wet, Mama, and I only packed one nightgown," Katie said.
"Honestly," Michaela muttered. "I don't know how you two get yourselves in these situations."
Byron pouted ever so slightly. "Can ya read me a story? I can't sleep in the bed here. I want my bed in Yosemite."
Michaela put her hands on her hips. "Katie, we'll find you something else to wear tonight and hang up your nightgown to dry. And Byron...we didn't bring any storybooks with us. But perhaps I could make one up."
"Michaela?" Sully spoke up as the baby began whimpering. "Jack's done with his bottle. I think he wants some more."
"You'll have to go down to the kitchen and prepare some more infant food," she said.
"I'll take care of the kids," he replied, lifting Jack out of his bassinette. "You make the milk. I ain't ever been in their kitchen. I wouldn't know where to start."
Katie stepped toward Michaela. "I want Mama to help me change."
"I want Papa to tell me a story," Byron spoke up, grabbing the tail of Sully's shirt.
"Pans are in the second cupboard to the left, Sully," Michaela instructed. "And you'll find spoons in the third drawer to the left. I put the box of infant food and his bottles on the top shelf in the first cabinet on your right when you walk in. But don't take the back door. Make sure you go in through the front or none of my directions are going to make sense."
Sully cleared his throat, shaking his head as the baby cried harder. "Maybe we both better do this."
Michaela sighed, taking the baby from Sully. "Byron, go back to bed and Papa will come in and tell you a story in a few minutes. I'll find you something to wear and help you change after we get the baby fed, Katie. We're all just going to have to be patient, all right?"
"Even Jack has to be patient?" Byron questioned.
"Go on, kids," Sully spoke up, rubbing the baby's back. "We'll be in as soon as we can."
"That's just how ladies are," Sully said, holding Jack in his lap. The baby was dressed in nothing but a diaper and an oversized white bonnet Michaela had insisted he wear to protect his head from the sun. "Ya best get used to it 'cause bein' a man means ya get to do a lot of waitin' around."
Sighing, Byron dug his fingers into the popped corn and shoveled a handful of kernels into his mouth, then took a bite out of one of the sausages. "That's not fun."
"No, but it's usually worth the trouble," Sully said, patting his back with a smile.
"What else do men get to do, Papa?" Byron asked curiously.
Sully thought a moment. "Well, our most important job is to always tell our wives what they're wearing looks great. Now, she's gonna ask ya how it looks, but it's a trick. Don't fall for it. No matter how bad the dress they have on is, ya tell 'em it looks great."
"Even if it's yucky?" Byron questioned.
"That's right. Otherwise you're gonna dig yourself a deep hole."
"Sully? We're done. Don't laugh," Michaela called from the doorway of the bathhouse.
"Good! They're done!" Byron exclaimed, standing up.
"We won't laugh," Sully called back. "Come on out. Let's get goin'."
Tentatively, Michaela and Katie stepped into view, their new apparel consisting of an elaborate muddle of blue flannel and gold trim, covering them voluminously from the neck down. On their heads were pinned equally hideous, fluffy blue caps. Michaela thought she had never donned an ensemble so unflattering. All she wanted to do was take it off, but after seeing all the other women and girls at the seashore, dressed very much the same if not even more horrendous, she knew she and Katie had no choice but to conform.
Sully struggled with all his might to keep back a smirk. "It's a lot of, uh...blue."
Byron worked just as hard to keep a straight face. "It looks great! Honest!"
"I'd like to see you two have to put on something like this," Michaela said crossly.
"I look like a blue monster," Katie said despondently, her arms hanging at her sides. "I wish I was a boy."
"Right now I do, too," Michaela said with a sigh.
"I think ya're both beautiful," Sully said, standing up and giving Michaela's cheek a kiss. He took Katie's hand. "Now let's get down there. You'll be the prettiest girls on the beach."
* * *
Sully was sitting beside her with Jack, watching him fondly. The baby loved the feel of the warm sand between his fingers and toes. He was giggling and crying out excitedly, pushing sand side to side with his hands and looking up at Sully elatedly. Sully laughed right along with him, kissing his head or clutching his hands. Michaela loved just to watch the two interact.
"Look at how much he likes this, Michaela," Sully spoke up with a wide smile, tapping Jack's nose.
"Oh. He does," she said, chuckling as Jack beat his hands on the sand and screamed with delight.
Sully picked him up and settled him in his lap, hugging him close. "I love ya, Jack," he whispered against his ear.
In reply, the baby dumped two fistfuls of sand into Sully's lap, brow fixed in determination.
"He's mischievous, too," Michaela added, grasping the baby's little fingers and kissing them.
"He's a Sully," he replied, brushing off his pants.
"It's so relaxing here," she murmured, gazing out at the ocean where children and adults alike waded in the cool water.
"It's nice," Sully agreed.
"For once there's nothing to do but sit," Michaela added more quietly.
"Yeah. I've been needin' a break," Sully murmured, wrapping his arm around her.
Michaela nodded, neglecting to voice how much she had needed a change as well from the monotony of demanding chores, school and more chores.
"What did you and Ethan talk about last night?" she asked, changing the subject.
Sully shrugged. "He was real curious about Yosemite. Couldn't stop askin' me about it."
"Oh?" she replied. "That's interesting."
"Maybe a little too interesting," he said. He handed her the baby and stood up. "I wanna take the kids for a swim. Ya comin'?"
She shook her head. "Go ahead. I'll stay here with the baby."
"That's a nice castle ya made," Sully said, picking up Byron under his arms and standing him on his feet.
"It has a moat like the pictures in Mama's books," Katie said proudly, pointing at the trough she had dug around the lopsided structure.
"I like it," he said. "Now let's go try out the water."
Byron licked his lips hesitantly. "Papa...I don't really wanna swim."
"It'll be fun," Sully encouraged, taking his hand. "Come on."
He shook his head. "I got a little tummy ache."
Sully smoothed back his hair. "From all that food ya ate I bet. All right, why don't ya go sit with your ma. It'll pass."
"Yeah. It'll go away," Byron said, trooping over to the blanket and reclining tiredly beside Michaela as Sully led Katie down to the water.
"It's cold!" Katie screeched as a foamy wave crept up over her ankles.
Sully chuckled, holding her hands from behind. "It feels good. Let's go in."
Katie eyed the waves fearfully. "No, Papa. I'm scared."
"I got ya," he said reassuringly. "It's all right."
"I can't swim good!" she protested. "I want to stay here."
Sully put his arm around her waist and crouched to her level. "What is it, Kates? I won't let ya go. I promise."
"Papa, please. Let's just stay here," she said, on the verge of tears.
Sully kissed her head. "All right. All right, sweet girl. We don't gotta go out any farther." He splashed her legs playfully. "Sides, this is fun right here, ain't it?"
"I like it here," Katie replied with a soft smile.
* * *
Worriedly, he knelt down and lightly pecked her cheek. Michaela instantly awoke, softly yawning.
Sully gave her another kiss. "Ya ain't gonna sleep the mornin' away, are ya?"
"Mmm...no," she replied, lazily stretching her arms.
He took her hand as she sat up. "I saw a sign for a carousel that's just a little ways down the pier. A penny a ride. Let's take the kids."
She smiled, blinking away sleep. "Yes. They'd love that."
* * *
"That's good, Brian," Sully said quickly, back turned to him as he stared out the window.
"We're glad you had a nice time, Brian," Michaela said cheerfully, seated at the vanity and brushing the tangles from her hair. "It sounds like it was an exciting day."
"Sure was," he replied, standing up and laying Jack in his bassinette. "Hey, how was the seashore? I never asked. Jack's nose looks pink."
"I think we all got a little pink," Michaela said, watching him in the mirror. "It was very nice there. The children made sandcastles and went swimming, and we all rode the carousel."
"The kids want to go back tomorrow," Sully spoke up, turning from the window and leaning against the ledge. "What do ya say ya come with us, we all take a picnic lunch down there and eat on the pier?"
"Oh," Brian said, awkwardly folding his arms. "Well, Lillian was gonna take me downtown to get a new suit tomorrow, and then bring me to a café she likes for tea."
"Oh?" Michaela replied. "What's wrong with the suits you have?"
"Nothin'," he said, shrugging. "But when I told her I don't need any new clothes, she looked real disappointed. I don't wanna hurt her feelins. I think I better go with her. Can I, Ma?"
Michaela turned and glanced at Sully, raising her eyebrows questioningly.
"It's all right with me," he murmured.
"That's very considerate of you to think of her feelings, Brian," Michaela said. "Of course you may go."
Brian turned his attention to Sully, sensing something amiss across his narrowed brow. "Pa? You sure it's all right? I don't have to. I'll go to the seashore with you instead."
"Ya didn't come here to spend time with us," Sully replied evenly. "You go on with Miss Lillian."
Brian slowly smiled. "I best turn in. Miss Lillian wants to leave by eight o'clock. 'Night."
"'Night, son," Sully said with a soft sigh.
Brian crossed the room and kissed Michaela's cheek. "'Night, Ma."
Michaela smiled and hugged him. "Goodnight, Brian. Sleep well."
Moments after the young man left, Byron appeared in the door and shyly clutched the doorsill.
"Byron? I thought we tucked ya in," Sully called.
Michaela stood up and crossed the room, stooping to one knee. "What's wrong? Can't sleep?"
He slowly stepped forward, the leg of his stuffed puppy held tightly in one fist. "My tummy hurts."
"Oh, dear. Now why would that be?" Michaela replied. "Perhaps you overindulged just a little on sausages and popped corn at the seashore?"
He pouted. "No. I didn't."
"Oh, but I saw you," she said teasingly, reaching her hand out to feel his brow. "You don't have a fever. Does anything else hurt?"
"Just my tummy," he whispered, lifting his hand up and clutching it.
She boosted him onto their bed and gave his brow a kiss. "I have some paregoric in my bag. I'll get you some."
One of the servants knocked on the open door as Michaela searched through her bag on the vanity.
"Pardon me," he said politely, stepping into the room. "Miz Cooper sent me with clean towels for tomorrow."
Michaela pulled out a bottle and spoon from her bag and returned to the bed. "Thank you, Theo. You can set them right here."
Theo tipped his head and placed the stack of towels on the bed. He clasped his hands and stepped back, watching intently as Michaela filled the spoon with the dark medicine and fed it to the little boy.
Byron made a disgusted face and swallowed the liquid hard. "Yucky!" he exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Michaela rubbed his belly. "Next time you won't stuff yourself so full, hm?"
Theo stepped back to the bed bravely. "Miz Quinn? Forgive me, but...do you need all of that?"
Michaela gazed at him incredulously. "You mean the paregoric?"
"I could take some home with me," he said eagerly. "I can pay. Miz Cooper gives me fair wages for my work. I can pay."
"Are you ill?" Michaela asked, scrutinizing his face for signs of a fever. "What's wrong, Theo?"
He swallowed hesitantly. "My sister feels very sick for many months. I was thinking your medicine might help."
Sully crossed the room and put Byron on his feet, giving him a kiss. "Go back to bed, Byron, all right?"
"All right, Papa," Byron said, holding his puppy to his chest and scurrying out the door.
"What's wrong with her, Theo?" Sully asked, closing the door.
He shook his head. "I don't know. There's a woman near where we live who knows about herbs. She gave Ming-Zhu a tea, but it didn't cure her. Then I thought, maybe Miz Quinn has something that will help."
"If she's so ill why don't you take her to a hospital?" Michaela asked.
"I tried. They won't take her in," he explained. "It's a new law."
"What sort of law instructs hospitals to turn away the sick?" Michaela exclaimed.
Theo quietly lowered his head and clasped his hands again.
Sully grasped Michaela's arm, meeting her eyes and sharing a glance.
"Where do you live, Theo?" Michaela asked.
He raised his head again, face brightening. "Down in Chinatown. It's not far."
"Wait downstairs for me," Michaela instructed. "I'll get dressed and then I want you to take me to your sister."
"I can pay," he said, reaching into his pocket. "My money is good."
"Yes, I'm sure it is," Michaela said. "We'll discuss that after I examine her, all right? I'll be right down."
He withdrew his hand, nodded and opened the door, walking out and closing it behind him.
"I'll come with ya, Michaela," Sully said, reaching for his shirt laying at the end of the bed and slipping back into it.
"Oh, that's not necessary," she protested, removing her bathrobe and walking over to the bureau. "I'll be fine."
"Michaela, this is a big city. I don't want ya down in a place like Chinatown all alone, especially at night."
"What do you mean a place like Chinatown?" she asked, returning to the bed with a pair of stockings and pulling them on.
"Ya know what goes on down there? I seen places like it when I was a miner. China Marys."
"What's a China Mary?" she asked curiously.
"A prostitute," he said quietly, buttoning his shirt and then slipping into his suit coat vest. "If you're a woman from there and made it across the ocean to here, that's what ya are. It's not like Hank's girls. These girls are bought and sold like regular slaves. Sometimes it's their only ticket off the boat and into California. Everybody knows that."
"I didn't know that," she said uncomfortably.
He squeezed her shoulder. "Let me come with ya, all right?"
She stood back up and gave him an appreciative kiss. "Yes. All right."
* * *
Michaela looked up at the various signs strung over the buildings, large Chinese characters painted on them in bright colors. Men filled the streets, several carrying shovels, pans and other mining supplies, while some carried pick axes with Central Pacific Railroad stamped on the handles and others pushed carts filled with wares. A few scantily clad women lingered in the shadows, waving their fans as they eyed Sully and Theo.
Theo climbed down from the buggy and opened the back door to a restaurant reeking of stale chicken, leading them up a narrow dark stairwell.
Sully took hold of Michaela's hand protectively as Theo opened the door to the small room.
"This is where you live?" Michaela asked quietly, glancing around the room.
"Yes," Theo replied, striking a match and lighting a lamp. "It's a good home. Warm in the winter."
The room had a small wooden table, a few shelves stacked with plates and mugs, two cots against the wall and a stove glowing in the center with embers. Michaela spotted Theo's sister curled up on one of the cots. He nightgown was twisted around her, her face was bathed in sweat and her blankets were thrown down to the floor.
"Ming-Zhu," Theo whispered lovingly, squatting down and grabbing a cloth from the nightstand. He smoothed the sweat from her brow.
"Lao-Tzu," she replied hoarsely, closing her eyes and panting.
Theo glanced up at Michaela and Sully. "She looks worse today. It's not a good day."
Michaela placed her medical bag on the end of the bed and knelt beside Theo, feeling the girl's forehead. "Hello, Ming-Zhu. I'm Dr. Mike. Can you tell me what's wrong? What hurts?"
"She doesn't know very much English," Theo said.
"Can you ask her what's wrong?" Michaela asked. "Ask her to point to what hurts."
Theo quickly translated for the girl. Ming-Zhu glanced reluctantly at Sully, then brought her hand down low on her belly, gritting her teeth against her pain.
Michaela turned around. "Sully? Would you mind waiting outside? I'm going to need to examine her more closely."
Sully nodded, opening the door. "Let me know if ya need me."
She smiled appreciatively. "Thank you." She returned her attention to the girl and lifted her legs up. "I want you to bend your knees and try to relax. I'll be as gentle as I can." She pushed the girl's nightgown up to her waist, instantly recoiling. A crimson, inflamed rash spread between the girl's legs and down the inside of her thighs. Ming-Zhu whimpered and clenched her teeth, reaching up to grab Theo's hand. Michaela quickly regained her composure and patted her arm. "It's all right," she whispered soothingly. "I'm going to try to help you."
"Do you know what's wrong?" Theo asked anxiously.
"I believe so," Michaela replied, reaching forward and feeling the girl's inflamed neck. "Swollen glands, fever...rash. It's lues venereal. Syphilis."
"Will she die?" Theo asked.
"How old is she?" Michaela quickly replied, opening her bag.
He swallowed, smoothing back his sister's dark hair. "Sixteen."
"Sixteen," Michaela breathed, shaking her head disapprovingly. "Sixteen." She opened the girl's mouth and placed her tongue depressor inside, uncovering more painful sores. "Is...is she a prostitute?"
"She says it's a good job," he whispered. "Money to move us away from the city, buy a farm."
"It wasn't worth this. Someone gave this to her," Michaela replied.
Theo pulled out a small pouch from his vest pocket, unlacing it. "The woman gave us this to put on the lesions."
Michaela took it from him and sniffed the ground herbs inside. She poured some of them into her hand and examined them. "It's very pungent. It smells a little like eucalyptus."
"It's Yerba Mansa," he said. "I make into a tea and give to Ming-Zhu."
"Is it helping?" Michaela asked, shaking the powder back into the pouch.
Theo hesitated. "It helps some days."
"Good," Michaela murmured, reaching into her bag. "I want you to continue with the tea. And we'll try some of my medicine, as well. A salve made with copper and mercury seems to help some people. I'll do everything I can to make her more comfortable."
Theo took a deep breath. "Then...she will die."
Michaela bit back tears. "In most cases, eventually. I'm sorry."
"You came here to help. No one else will. Don't say sorry," he replied, looking her in the eyes.
"In the meantime, she absolutely must not go back to prostitution," Michaela said firmly. "Not only can she spread this to others but...continuing with that sort of work could cause her excruciating physical pain. Lao-Tzu, do you understand? She cannot go back to work ever again."
"I understand," he said. "I'll keep her here and take care of her. Miz Cooper gave me a better job with good pay. I don't have to pan for gold."
"Is that what you used to do?" Michaela asked, rising from the bed and finding a basin and a pitcher of water on the table.
"Yes, I came here with my brothers," he explained. "We can't have our own claims like white men, but we can take claims others don't want anymore. I found some gold dust, enough to buy a good suit, and I looked for work in the nice part of the city with a nice family." He nodded with satisfaction. "Miz Cooper saw me and asked me to come work for her. Nice family."
"They're kind to you," Michaela said, filling the basin with water.
"Very kind," he replied, nodding. "If I looked for gold, I would have to pay a miners tax."
"Miners tax?" Michaela asked. "What's that?"
"A tax we must pay the state to mine. Only for the Chinese. It would have taken all my money."
"That's unnecessary and unfair," Michaela said, returning to the bed with the basin.
He sighed pensively. "I think sometimes they are right. They say we came to California, took their jobs, give nothing back."
"How can a people be expected to give something back when they have nothing in the first place?" Michaela demanded. "Don't listen to that. You have as much right to live here as anyone else. Any law that suggests otherwise goes against the very principles this country was supposed to be founded on." She dipped a cloth into the basin and laid it across Ming-Zhu's forehead. "Unfortunately you've done more than your fair share of suffering."
"Ming-Zhu is lucky to be here," he said, stroking the girl's arm comfortingly. "The new law makes it impossible for our women to come here."
"I hardly saw any women from China on the streets," Michaela remarked.
"There are no women here," he said. "Ming-Zhu is lucky."
"Lucky," Michaela murmured, gently pressing her hand to the cloth.
* * *
Sully held up his hand with an uncomfortable smile. "No, thanks."
She placed one hand on her hip seductively. "Only fifty cent. Fifty cent."
Sully pointed his thumb behind him. "I'm just waitin' for my wife. She'll be down soon." He paused as she fluttered heavily made up eyes. "Do ya speak English?"
She grinned coyly and caressed his arm.
"I didn't think so," he murmured, digging into the pocket of his vest and coming up with a few bills. "Here, take it. Go on home now. Go home."
She stared at the bills for a moment, then slowly tucked them beneath her bodice. "Home?"
He patted her shoulder. "Home. Go on. Get off the streets."
She backed up a few steps, lifted her skirts and scurried out of the alley, disappearing around the corner.
Sully turned as Michaela opened the door.
"All set?" he asked.
She slowly nodded. "There's nothing more I can do here. Sully, she's dying of syphilis."
"I know. I seen the same thing with the Indians," he replied, giving her a hand into the carriage and circling around it. "Some people use it as an excuse to say they're dirty and full of diseases."
"When in truth syphilis originated in Europe," Michaela replied as Sully sat down next to her and picked up the reins.
"That's right. Whites are the ones that gave it to the Indians in the first place."
"And to the Chinese," she said, resting her head against his shoulder tiredly.
"Ya all right?" he murmured.
She nodded. "It's just frustrating, not being able to do anything. She's sixteen and she's probably not going to live to see seventeen. She came here wanting a better life. Now look at her. It's not right."
"It's hard knowing there's not much we can do," he murmured, flicking the reins and driving the buggy out of the alley. "Not with us leavin' here end of the week."
"Wait, there is something we can do," Michaela said pensively. "We can teach our children about this. I want them to know there's a world outside of ours. I want them to know not everyone is as lucky as our family."
"I want that, too," he said, gently kissing her head. "Michaela, syphilis...is it catchin'?"
"Some people think so, but the latest findings show that it can only be spread through ... close physical contact. I believe it's perfectly all right to be in the same room with the patient, hold their hand. You could even drink from the same glass."
He thought for a moment. "Maybe we could bring the kids out here to visit Ming-Zhu. Bring her some soup, or flowers. But in the daytime."
"Yes. I think that's a lovely idea," she said.
"Brynie, what on earth did you do to your hair?" Michaela exclaimed, smoothing back the child's rumpled tresses frantically. "Is this how you want to look when you meet your cousin?"
"I had an itchy on my head when we were in the carriage," he said simply as everyone ascended the steps of the restaurant. "I had to scratch."
"In the process spoiling all the work I did to make everything stay down," Michaela said with a sigh.
Ethan opened the door, gesturing inside. "After you, Dr. Quinn."
"We need to find a washroom," Michaela said, grasping the little boy's hand.
"The ladies and gentlemen's rooms are in the back," Lillian said.
"Let me take him, Ma," Brian spoke up. "I'll get him straightened out."
"All right, thank you," Michaela agreed. "But hurry."
Brian led his little brother around the candlelit circular tables to the back of the restaurant, taking him through a pair of swinging doors labeled washrooms. "Come on, B. Let's make this quick before Ma gets any madder."
"I don't want to eat here," Byron protested as his brother pulled a comb from his suit coat pocket and wet it in the basin on a nearby table.
"You can order anything ya want," Brian said. "It'll be fun."
"I'm not hungry. I'm stuffed," Byron replied. "Why's Mama make us get all dressed up for this?"
"'Cause it's a nice place to eat. And how can ya be stuffed?" Brian questioned, rapidly running the comb through his tangled locks. "We haven't eaten since lunchtime."
"I just am," Byron insisted, raising his hand to his belly and gently clutching it.
"There. Good as new," Brian said, tapping the comb on the edge of the basin and sliding it back into his pocket. "Come on, let's get back. Hurry up."
He opened the door of the gentlemen's room, bumping a young woman squarely in the side. The small pile of packages she clutched went falling to the carpeted floor as she let out a startled cry.
"Miss! Oh, no. I'm sorry!" Brian said, immediately bending down to assist her.
"Oh, it was my fault," she protested. "I wasn't paying attention. I've been a little anxious I suppose. I was going to go to the washroom to compose myself and...I just wasn't paying attention. Listen to me. I'm talking too much."
"That's all right-" Brian began, looking up. He swallowed hard, eyes widening. The young woman was utterly gorgeous. She was dressed in an emerald green gown and matching hat, contrasting strikingly with her deep red hair, piled in loose curls beneath the hat. Twinkling hazel eyes, a charming wide smile and pale, soft skin only served to add to her beauty. At her full height, she was a tall as Brian, unusual for a woman but intensely intriguing.
"Here's your, your, um things...your boxes. I mean, packages," Brian said hoarsely, settling them back in her arms.
"Oh, thank you," she replied. "I'm so glad nothing happened to them. Presents for my cousins. I'm meeting them here."
"Oh. Is it somebody's birthday?" Brian asked, mouth slightly agape.
"No, just some welcome gifts. I've never even met three of them."
"You're real pretty," Byron spoke up candidly, looking up at her.
"B.!" Brian scolded. "Be quiet!"
"Oh, aren't you darling!" the woman replied with a chuckle. "Thank you, young man. You're far too generous." She glanced at Brian. "Is this your brother? He's adorable."
Brian smiled softly. "Yeah. He can be trouble sometimes."
"Oh, I think he's wonderful. He reminds me of someone. I can't place it," she said, stooping down to Byron's level. "Hello, I'm Mollie. What's your name?"
"Byron," he replied. "Mama said I got a cousin named Mollie."
Mollie slowly stood up, glancing between the two boys. "Wait just a moment...and are you...Brian?"
"...Yeah," Brian spoke up, stunned. "You're Mollie!"
"Oh, my," Mollie breathed. "I bumped into my own cousins!"
"We bumped into you," Brian corrected. "We're so sorry."
"Where are the rest of you?" Mollie asked eagerly.
Brian grinned, leading her out of the hallway. "Over here. Come on."
"Auntie Michaela!" Mollie cried, handing the packages to Brian and hurrying across the room to the doorway.
" ... Mollie?" Michaela said, turning and drawing in her breath. "Mollie!"
Mollie fell into her embrace with a laugh, hugging her tight. "Auntie! Oh, it's been forever."
Michaela held her close and rocked her. "Oh, Mollie. Sweetheart, look how tall you are!"
"I'm so glad you came," Mollie said tearfully. "I'm so glad to see you!"
Michaela slowly pulled back, holding onto the young woman's hand tightly. "Let me introduce you to everyone."
Sully stepped forward and kissed the back of her free hand. "It's good to see ya again, Mollie."
"Mr. Sully," Mollie replied, eyeing his suit with an impressed smile.
"And this is Mr. and Mrs. Cooper," Michaela went on, nodding at Lillian and Ethan. "We're staying with them downtown." She drew the younger children to her side. "This is By-"
"Byron I've already met. And he's even more handsome than I pictured," Mollie said wryly. "And this must be Katie! Oh, she looks like you, Auntie. She's so beautiful."
Katie giggled, grasping Michaela's free hand shyly.
"She knows," Sully spoke up, giving Katie's nose a playful tap.
"And where's the baby?" Mollie asked. "Jack, isn't it?"
Lillian stepped forward with a smile. "At this very moment, three of our servants are probably hovering over his bed, watching his every move. We couldn't bear to disappoint them and take him away."
"They were so eager to look after him for the evening," Michaela added. "And we thought Jack would rather be home than at a restaurant."
"Well, I want a chance to hold him," Mollie said decisively. "We'll have to meet again this week."
"Yes, I think we probably could," Michaela said, glancing at Sully with raised eyebrows. She grasped Brian by the arm and pulled him close. "And have you met Brian? Colorado Springs' most famous journalist."
"Ma," Brian grumbled, his face reddening.
"Well, you are," Michaela insisted, shifting aside so that Brian and Mollie were standing next to each other. "Let's get a table, shall we? I can't wait for us all to visit."
Brian found his eyes once again fixing on Mollie as she spoke. He had expected her to be childish, dull and self-absorbed, as she had been when he had first met her nearly ten years ago. Instead, she had grown into an intelligent and fascinating young woman. She knew everything about San Francisco and was full of entertaining stories about the people she had met as a freelance writer. Brian found himself trying to work up the courage to ask if he could take her for a walk sometime while he was here. His thoughts briefly shifted to Sarah. She herself had told him she wanted them to meet other people. He decided there was nothing wrong with simply getting to know his cousin.
Mollie put down her glass of champagne and brought up the packages she had tucked beneath her chair. "Here, open my presents now," she said, handing them to the children.
"You didn't have to do this, Mollie," Michaela said. "We don't have anything for you."
"No, I wanted to," the young woman replied. "Besides, I love shopping, Auntie. I saw these and couldn't resist."
Brian pulled back the string of his package and unwrapped the paper, revealing a beautiful thin blanket with an intricate threaded design of an eagle, swooping down to the ground, his back arched. Katie's blanket was an elaborate pattern of red and pink roses and Byron's was of a bright orange tiger about to pounce.
"Thanks, Mollie," Brian murmured. "It's real nice."
"I heard winters up in those mountains are quite chilly," she said with a soft smile. "I thought you might like some extra blankets. They were made by a Chinese woman here who claims to be a hundred years old."
"They're beautiful," Lillian spoke up, folding her hands on the table.
"Children, what do you say to your cousin?" Michaela spoke up.
"Thank you," Katie whispered, hugging the blanket to her chest reverently.
"Thanks," Byron added. "It's soft."
"There's lots of eagles around Yosemite, Mollie," Brian remarked.
"Oh, there are?" Mollie breathed. "I've never seen a real eagle. Tell me about them, Brian. Are they as magnificent as everyone says?"
"Well, they're huge," Brian said, absently pressing the prongs of his fork to his plate. "They got good eyesight. They can see fish in the water from hundreds of feet up. And they got real powerful feet. They can lift about four pounds. People are gonna come to Yosemite just to see the eagles."
"Is that so, Brian?" Ethan spoke up, sipping his champagne.
"Sure," he replied. "There's a nesting site near our cabin, along the Merced River. I'd show it to ya, Mollie, if ya ever come visit."
"Would you?" she murmured, gently laying her hand on his. "I'd love to visit."
"I've been writin' about the eagles in my journal," Brian added. "Then maybe when I get back to Colorado Springs I can publish some of my observations. Kind of like what John Muir did. He's a famous naturalist."
"Oh, you'll have to show me what you're writing. It sounds exciting," Mollie said. "I know, Brian. Perhaps this week we could get one of your journal entries published in a newspaper here. You could be a guest reporter."
"Really?" Brian breathed. "That'd be great."
Michaela glanced at Sully, beaming. "We should have supper again this week, Mollie. You and Brian seem to have a lot to talk about."
"I'd like that," Mollie said.
Brian smiled bashfully. "Yeah. Me, too."
* * *
"Auntie, let's go in here!" Mollie said, pulling Michaela toward a window brimming with bonnets of all shapes and colors. "We can try on everything!"
"Not another shop," Byron grumbled.
Katie pressed her nose to the glass, gazing at the display. "Is that a real bird on that hat?"
"Not anymore," Sully said.
Michaela glanced at the children. Jack was fast asleep and Byron and Katie were beginning to show signs of wanting a nap as well. She couldn't imagine dragging them into one more store and making them wait while she and Mollie browsed, yet she was having such a good time window shopping with the young woman, trying on gowns she would never dare wear and hats she couldn't afford. She felt like a bit of a schoolgirl again, and she was enjoying it.
"We passed a park a few blocks back with some swings," Sully spoke up. "I think the kids would like to visit it."
"Oh, Sully. Would you mind taking them?" Michaela murmured.
He smiled. "You can meet us there when you're done."
She grasped his hand gratefully. "Thank you."
"Take your time," he said, giving her hand a kiss and then reaching up to rub Jack's back.
"Let's go, Papa!" Byron said, grabbing the end of his father's suit coat as they turned around and walked back down the sidewalk.
Mollie opened the door excitedly, jostling the tiny bell the storekeeper had tied to the inside door handle. She immediately walked over to a display of bonnets, eyes lighting up. "This is where I find all my hats," she said, picking up two pale blue bonnets made up of French muslin and generous lace trim. "It's the largest hat shop in the city."
"They're all so lovely," Michaela breathed. "And so stylish."
"Take this one. It goes with your cape," Mollie said, handing her a maroon hat with matching feathers. "I'll show you where the mirrors are." She led Michaela to the back corner of the store, darting around several other customers, and guided her to stand in front of three long mirrors.
Michaela tentatively pinned the hat on and smiled softly at her reflection in the mirror.
"I love it!" Mollie said, grasping her arm. "Let me get it for you."
"Oh, Mollie. It's too much," Michaela said, removing the hat and glancing at the price tag.
"Oh, please let me," she said, slipping on one of the bonnets and tying the laces at her chin. "Father sends me so much spending money I don't know what to do with it. I keep telling him to stop and he just keeps sending more. He says he wants me to enjoy myself here."
"And your mother?" Michaela asked. "How does she like the idea of you living in San Francisco?"
"She hates it," Mollie said with a sigh, gazing at her reflection. "She wants me to come home."
"I know how that feels," Michaela replied wryly.
"She just won't accept that this is what makes me happy," Mollie went on, strolling over to the counter with the hats. "I spent most of my childhood sitting in the parlor hovering over needlepoint and tea. I couldn't stand it any longer. I want to do something with my life."
"Well, you seem to have found something you're good at," Michaela said, raising her eyebrows. "I think it's wonderful that you went after what you truly wanted, even if that meant coming to a city all the way across the country."
"I am good at it," she replied passionately. "And Mother won't even read the articles I write. She told me to stop sending them."
"I'm sorry. That must have hurt," Michaela murmured, gently clasping her hand. "Your grandmother didn't approve when I moved away either. I know how hard that is."
Mollie placed the hats on the counter and unlaced her purse. "I wish Mother could be more like you, Auntie. If Katie really wanted something, you wouldn't hold her back. You'd encourage her."
"Claudette's just concerned about you," Michaela replied. "I think she just wants to be certain you're doing the right thing. And as much as this move may be the best thing for you, it must have been difficult for her to watch her oldest daughter leave home."
"I'm nineteen years old," she said exasperatedly, laying a small stack of bills on the counter. "Old enough for Mother to stop fussing over me."
Michaela chuckled, watching as the storekeeper packaged the hats in large stiff paper boxes. "I'm afraid she may never stop, Mollie. That's what mothers are supposed to do."
"Well, we've barely communicated since I left," Mollie murmured. "Most of the time I write to Grandma and Father and William."
Michaela patted her back. "Give her some time. You may have to work at it, but you'll find some common ground eventually."
Mollie threaded her arm with Michaela's. "I'm glad you're here, Auntie. You understand me like she never has."
Michaela smiled. "I'm glad I'm here, too. I've missed you so much."
"It's just like old times," Mollie said wistfully, taking the boxes from the storekeeper and tucking them under her arms. "You used to take William and me for walks in the city every day."
"You remember?" Michaela asked, opening the door for her. "I thought you were too young to recall very much about that."
"Oh, of course. William says he doesn't but I remember it vividly," she said enthusiastically. "You reading us stories, playing with us in the nursery, taking us ice-skating and sledding and for outings all over Boston." She drew in her breath, lowering her eyes. "At the time I had no idea my mother was so melancholy. You kept William and me away from all of that."
"I just wanted to protect you," Michaela murmured. "It was a very difficult time for her. I can't imagine how devastated she must have felt to lose her child. Perhaps that's why she's doesn't want you moving away, Mollie. She doesn't want to lose anyone else."
Mollie shrugged tentatively as they made their way toward the park. "I remember one day we took the carriage out to Fresh Pond with William's little toy sailboat, and a pair of gallant gentlemen from the university walked over to us and were fawning all over you."
"No they weren't," Michaela said, embarrassed.
"They were!" Mollie said with a laugh. "You were so mortified. You told them you were our mother and you were about to take us home to our father!"
"I don't remember that," Michaela said firmly.
"Oh, Auntie. Yes you do. Men always followed us around on our outings. I think they were hoping you were just the nanny." She smiled shyly. "I've been courted by some nice men out here, but I don't think I've met any as kind and handsome as Brian."
Michaela drew in her breath, eyes lighting up. "Brian? You think he's handsome? I mean, I always thought he was. Mollie, this is wonderful."
"Oh, he's just dashing," Mollie said softly. "And so intelligent. He makes me feel as if he's interested in knowing me, who I really am. Many men I've encountered...well, I don't think they think about anything but the here and now. I wish he could have come with us today, but I understand he wants to spend time with Mr. Cooper. I imagine he doesn't get to see him that often."
Michaela waved to Sully as they walked through the gates of the park. "Why don't we make arrangements to meet again," she said. "I think Brian would love to get to know you better."
"Really?" Mollie murmured. "I'd like to know him, too."
"Oh, no," Michaela whispered, quickening her pace as Sully approached from a nearby bench, holding Byron's hand. The little boy was weeping quite despondently, wiping his tears with his hands and smearing dust on his face. Jack cried right along with him as Sully desperately tried to calm him down.
"What happened?" Mollie asked, placing the hatboxes on the ground and smoothing back her cousin's hair.
Byron looked up at her bashfully. "A kid on the seesaw said...he said I'm way t-too little to teeter with him," he whimpered. "He said he don't let babies play with him."
"He took it real personally," Sully spoke up, rubbing the child's back.
"Oh, sweetheart," Michaela said with a sigh. "He's not worth playing with then if he says things like that."
"Yes, he's just being a bully," Mollie added.
Michaela took Jack from Sully, kissing his head as he continued to cry. "And what happened to him? Did someone not want him on the seesaw as well?"
Sully stroked the baby's flushed cheek with his finger. "Jack's just bein'...Jack," he said helplessly.
"Mama, I'm hungry," Katie said, tugging on her mother's skirts.
"I wanted to play," Byron said, his tears intensifying. "He won't let me even get a t-turn."
"I'm hungry," Katie said more persistently.
Michaela glanced between the children. "We'll have to come back another day when he's not here, Byron. Let's go find a place to have supper."
"But I'm not hungry yet," Byron muttered. "I wanna eat later."
"No. I'm starving!" Katie protested.
Michaela took Byron's hand. "You'll have more of an appetite once we smell all the good food. We all have to eat at the same time, Byron."
"Even Jack?" Byron questioned. "He doesn't eat at the same time. He gets to eat mushy food at Ethan's."
"Jack's a baby," Sully explained. "He has to have special food we make for him."
"Mama," Katie whined. "I'm hungry, Mama."
Michaela let out her breath, overwhelmed. "All right, Katie. Let's go!"
* * *
"About thirty," Brian replied. "Most of 'em are real hard workers and real good at what they do. Why ya wanna know so much about Yosemite anyway?"
"Just curious," Ethan replied quickly, swallowing a large bite of fish. He looked up and gazed out the porthole where the sun was beginning to sink, laying his hand atop Lillian's. "You know, son, we've really enjoyed the time we've spent together the past few days."
Brian smiled, glancing at each of them. "Me, too. It's been fun."
"We've been talking and..." Ethan went on hesitantly. "Now I don't want you to answer right away, but...we want you to stay on longer."
"How much longer?" Brian asked curiously, chewing a large bite of green beans. "I think I could talk Ma and Pa into a few extra days."
"No. More than just a few days," Ethan said. "For the rest of the year. Until Sully and Dr. Quinn leave Yosemite and go back to Colorado."
Brian slowly drew in his breath, speechless.
"You're a clever young man, Brian," Ethan said proudly. "You could help me manage my ships and even come along on a few voyages. Think of it. Australia, New Zealand, South America. Those are just a few places I'm going to be traveling to on business in the upcoming months."
"I've always wanted to travel," Brian admitted softly.
"Think of all the strange and wonderful places you would see and write about," Lillian added.
"Yes, and speaking of writing," Ethan said. "In the meantime, when we're not traveling or conducting business transactions, you can stay here and scout out the newspapers, secure an internship. I have a few friends in high places. I could pull some strings for you."
"I don't know," Brian replied. "Ma and Pa need my help in Yosemite."
"Oh, Brian. That place is in the middle of nowhere," Ethan admonished. "You can't have the opportunities there that you could have here. What are you doing there anyway? Babysitting, that's what."
"Ma counts on me," Brian said.
"She'll make do," Ethan said. "Why don't you give this some thought, son. Your stepmother and I would love to have you with us. And I know that charming niece of Dr. Quinn's wouldn't mind seeing you stay on as well."
Brian reddened. "Mollie? She's a nice girl, I s'pose."
"Oh, I was more than impressed," Ethan replied. "And I think she felt the same about you."
Brian swallowed hard. "I'll...I'll give it some thought."
"That's all we're asking," Lillian said, gently patting his hand.
"It's real kind of ya to offer, Miss Lillian, Ethan," Brian said softly.
Ethan took a deep breath. "Brian, I know things have changed and we don't see each other that often...but do you think you could call me...well, what you used to call me? Pa? We wouldn't have to tell Sully if that's what's troubling you."
Brian hesitated, staring at his plate of food. "You're right. Things have changed. I guess if ya wouldn't mind ... I'd just feel more comfortable keepin' things as they are."
Ethan nodded slowly. "I understand. Whatever makes you comfortable, son. Lillian and I want to make you happy, that's all."
"We care for you very much, Brian," Lillian whispered.
Brian smiled. "I know. I care for ya, too."
* * *
"Here's the broth, Ma," he said.
"Oh, good. Thank you," Michaela replied.
"I'll carry it, Brian," Mollie said, holding out her hands.
Brian smiled. "That's all right. I got it."
"Brian!" Ethan called from the stairwell, a cigar in hand. He quickly padded down the stairs, Lillian following him. "What's going on? Off somewhere?"
"Oh, Mr. Cooper. I'm sorry, I forget to tell you," Michaela said as she placed a scarf around Byron's neck. "We won't be joining you for supper tonight. I hope you don't mind."
He eyed them skeptically. "No, I don't mind. Where are you all going at this hour?"
"Portsmouth Square," Mollie explained.
"To visit Lao-Tzu and his sister," Brian added.
"Lao...Lao what?" Ethan retorted.
"I mean Theo," Brian replied. "He lives in a flat in Chinatown."
"Chinatown!" Lillian exclaimed. "You're going to Chinatown?"
"Why ever would you want to go down there?" Ethan demanded. "That's no place for children. That's no place for any of us! It's packed with crooks, thieves and filthy prostitutes."
"What's a pros...pros-tute, Mama?" Katie asked.
Lillian chuckled nervously. "Dr. Mike, why don't you just visit with Theo here? Come to think of it, why do you want to visit him in the first place? He's a servant."
"He's a person," Michaela replied. "A person with a very ill sister."
"Oh, yes. He told me about that. It's such a pity," Lillian replied. "Still, it's best to stay as far away as possible. We don't want them spreading their diseases all over the city."
"I told Lillian a thousand times. I said I don't want her hiring all these Rail Hoppers to take care of the place. No telling what they're carrying," Ethan said disapprovingly. "But she insists on it."
"Ethan, Theo's the best servant we've ever had," Lillian replied. "I must admit I've grown a little attached. And I think you have, too."
"He's a fine servant. But he's the exception not the rule," Ethan said grabbing Brian's arm and pulling him toward him. "Do what you like with your own children, Dr. Quinn, but I don't want Brian going."
Sully stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "I think Brian's old enough to decide what he wants to do for himself, Ethan."
"Mr. Cooper, what Ming-Zhu has can't be transmitted to us simply by paying her a visit," Michaela explained patiently. "And as far as I can tell Lao-Tzu is perfectly healthy."
"Stop using that mumbo-jumbo. I can't tell what you're talking about," Ethan replied.
"But Theo's real name is Lao-Tzu, Ethan," Brian said. "Why does he need some other name?"
"Because no one can say that nonsense of theirs!" Ethan retorted. "He's in America now. He's going to have to learn to answer to an American name."
"I'm afraid I can't pronounce his real name, Brian," Lillian added. "It's just easier to call him Theo."
"You could if you tried," Mollie spoke up.
"And why are you so eager to go along, Mollie?" Ethan asked. "You live in San Francisco. You know what that place is like."
"Yes, I do. It's appalling the conditions they've been forced to live in," Mollie replied. "I find the Chinese to be very fair merchants. More fair than many white businessmen I've encountered. I buy all my silk from a shop down there and so do my friends."
"I'll tell you what's appalling," Ethan began. "It's appalling the way our country has let so many of them in. Thank God for Congressman Page, finally talking some sense into everyone down in Washington. Finally limiting immigration here." He narrowed his brow. "I'm a businessman, but despite what you may think I try to be as fair as possible. Still, that's not easy with a bunch of dog-eating scavengers pouring into the city. The Swedes I can bear. They keep out of the way. Same with the Mexicans and the Germans. Even the Jews I can tolerate. At least they try to fit in. But Chinamen? They're unassimilable, simple as that. As far as I'm concerned, we'd all be much better off if we sent them on the next ship out of here. Just not any of my ships!"
"But Ma always says we're all immigrants," Brian said quietly.
"That's right, Brian," Michaela murmured. "We are."
"You, Dr. Quinn, are incorrigible," Ethan retorted, releasing Brian's arm. "Fine, go. But I don't want any part of it."
"I'm sorry this upsets you, Mr. Cooper. We certainly didn't intend that," Michaela said, taking Byron and Katie's hands. "It's getting late. We should get started."
"Wait, perhaps I should go," Lillian said suddenly.
"Not you, too, Lillian," Ethan groaned, raising his hands to his temples.
"Well, how's this going to look, Ethan?" Lillian asked. "Dr. Mike and Sully and everyone visiting Theo while his mistress stays home? I think I should come along. After all, you said yourself he's a fine servant."
"You have a point," he said, sighing. "All right. If you must. Besides, we don't want anyone getting lost down there. But be careful." He turned away and rubbed his temples. "You've all given me a headache. I'm going to lie down until you return."
Lillian lifted her cape off the coat rack near the door. "Well, let's go then. Come along."
Michaela stepped down the stairs and lifted Katie and Byron into the waiting carriage, then lingered back with Brian as Sully gave Mollie and Lillian a hand up.
"Brian? Are you all right?" she asked quietly, noting his disenchanted expression.
"Sure," he murmured.
"I can understand how Ethan feels," she said. "He's right. The Chinese probably have taken away some of his business. It's no wonder he feels frustrated."
"But that don't mean they don't got a right to be here," Brian replied.
"Well, Ethan's what some people call a nativist," Michaela explained. "He believes only white people who have been here for generations should live here."
"That's not what I believe," Brian said.
"You and Ethan don't have to share the same opinions to get along," Michaela said. "You've each had different experiences that have shaped your views."
He slowly smiled. "Yeah. You're right."
Michaela patted his back. "Ethan's the one missing out, Brian. Come on. Let's get into the carriage."
* * *
Byron made his way up to his parents and grabbed Michaela's hand. "Mama, why all these people look so different? They got funny eyes."
"They look like those ladies that wash the sheets at the clinic, Mama," Katie added, eyeing a string of roasted ducks hanging in one of the store windows curiously.
"Well, that's because they're from a country far away called China," Michaela explained. "But now they're Americans, too, even though they don't look like us. In fact they're probably thinking we're the ones who look different."
"Oh. So maybe they think I'm the one that gots funny eyes," Byron replied.
Michaela smiled and caressed his shoulder as she stopped to look over a table displaying several watercolor paintings. "Exactly, Byron." She picked up one of the paintings, a mystical impression of the harbor at twilight, and then glanced at the vender. "How much for this one?"
"Four," he told her cheerfully. "Four dollar."
Lillian quickly stepped up to Michaela. "Dr. Mike, if you're looking to purchase some artwork I know a very fine shop downtown that has-"
"No, I like this one," Michaela replied. "And four dollars is a bargain. Our cabin walls are so bare right now."
Sully glanced at the painting as the baby played with his beads and medicine pouch. "It's nice. Ya want it, Michaela? We'll get it."
She handed the painting back to the vendor. "I'll think about it. We need to deliver the broth to Ming-Zhu first."
"Where does she live?" Mollie asked.
"It's right over here," Michaela said, taking Katie's hand again and leading everyone to the door.
"You're certain it's not catching," Lillian spoke up, suddenly apprehensive as they climbed the stairs.
"No. There's nothing to fear, Lillian," Michaela replied, rapping on the door.
Lao-Tzu immediately opened it. "Miz Quinn! You came again!"
"Yes. And I brought my family," Michaela replied with a smile. "We wanted to pay you a visit."
Lao-Tzu backed up, pure shock registering across his face. "Miz Cooper?" Gathering his composure, he quickly tipped his head. "Miz Cooper! You're here, too!"
Lillian smiled uncomfortably. "How is your sister, Theo?"
"Better today, Miz Cooper," he said. "I think the medicine is helping. Please, come in."
Lillian slowly stepped into the tiny room, glancing around in disbelief. "You live here?"
"It's a very nice home," Lao-Tzu said readily. "I tell Miz Quinn, I say Miz Cooper is a very good lady to work for and very fair. I can pay rent for this nice home for me and Ming-Zhu."
"Mama? Mama what's wrong with her?" Katie whispered, eyes focused apprehensively on the cot in the corner. Ming-Zhu was lying snug beneath the blankets, gazing back shyly.
"That's the lady I told you about, sweetheart," Michaela replied, squeezing her hand. "She's very ill and could use some visitors. Can we go say hello to her and try to help her feel better?"
"Yeah...all right," Katie whispered.
"Bet you can make her better, Mama," Byron said. "You're a doctor."
"I'm trying," Michaela replied, swallowing and leading them over to the cot. "Ming-Zhu? Your brother says you're feeling improved today."
Ming-Zhu nodded faintly, gently clutching her blankets to her chin.
"These are my children," Michaela went on. "This is Katie and Byron. And this is-"
Brian stepped forward. "I'm Brian. We brought ya some broth to drink. Always helps me feel better when I'm sick."
Ming-Zhu gazed at the pot curiously. "Bro...broth?"
Brian smiled. "Yeah. I'll put it on the stove to warm up."
"Oh, and this is my niece Mollie," Michaela went on.
"How do you do?" Mollie said. "I'm so sorry to hear you're ill."
Michaela turned to glance at Lillian, standing near the door with a painfully awkward expression across her face.
"Lillian?" Michaela called. "I think Ming-Zhu would like to meet you."
Lillian abruptly shook her head. "Oh, I'm fine where I am." She politely waved her hand. "Hello. Nice to see you."
Michaela returned her attention to her patient, sitting down on the bed and opening her bag. She took out her thermometer and placed it beneath the girl's tongue. "Just hold that there for me," she instructed as she pulled out her stethoscope and folded down the blankets to listen to her chest. "She does appear stronger today," she remarked. "That's good to see. The broth should help, too."
"You are all so kind to come here," Lao-Tzu said. "No one comes in here. Why...why aren't you afraid?"
"What's there to be afraid of?" Byron questioned. "You're nice."
Lao-Tzu slowly smiled, turning to the table and picking up a small, empty cage made from wheat stems. It had one sliding door and was stained a brilliant shiny brown. "I have a gift for all of you."
"What is that?" Brian asked.
"A cage for crickets," he explained.
"But there's nothin' in there," Byron remarked.
Lao-Tzu bent to his level and opened the sliding door. "You will catch one. Crickets bring good fortune. They will bring you wealth and many babies."
"No, I don't want it to bring many babies," Byron said. "Jack cries too much."
Lao-Tzu handed him the cage and smoothed down his hair tenderly. "There are many different kinds of crickets and they're very special to my people. They tell you about the land, when it's time to plant the crops, what the month is and when winter is coming."
"How do they do that, Lao-Tzu?" Mollie asked curiously, folding her hands.
"Well, in May, the Shi Zhong moves its legs," he explained. "In June, the Sha Ji moves its wings. In July all the crickets are in the fields, in August they are in the yard and in September they are at your doorstep." He glanced at each of the children with amusement. "And in October...the cricket crawls under your bed!"
Katie and Byron giggled as they admired the cage.
"Children, say thank you," Michaela spoke up.
"Thank you," Katie said sweetly.
"Bu ki qi," he replied. "You are welcome."
Lillian dabbed her neck with a handkerchief. "It's a little hot in here. I think I'll wait outside," she said quietly, opening the door and hurrying out of the room.
Michaela rose from the bed and handed Mollie a clean cloth. "Would you mind bringing the basin over here and start bathing Ming-Tzu's face and neck, please? I'll be right back."
"Of course, Auntie," Mollie immediately replied.
"I'll get the water for ya," Brian said.
Michaela opened the door and stepped into the hall. Lillian was leaning against the wall nearby, eyes staring forward blankly. Michaela shut the door and walked over to her.
"Are you all right, Lillian?"
"Theo gave me a cage like that a few years ago," Lillian replied quietly. "He promised me it would...."
"It's just a superstition, Lillian," Michaela said. "Don't let it upset you."
"Oh, no. It's not that," Lillian replied. "It's just, all this time he's been my servant and I had no idea what sort of conditions he was living in. I knew his sister was sick but I had absolutely no idea."
"Well, I know they appreciate you coming out here," Michaela replied reassuringly.
"How long does she have?" Lillian asked.
Michaela pressed her back to the opposite wall and folded her hands. "It's difficult to say. A few months, perhaps more. I must tell you...unfortunately, whatever time she has left will be very agonizing for her."
"I should have taken her in as a servant," Lillian said guiltily. "I could have prevented this. We could have afforded one more. I could have put her in charge of the laundry, or the sweeping...or something. Anything."
"Lillian, you didn't know," Michaela replied.
"I feel so terrible," Lillian murmured. "I used to think what Ethan thinks...that they're all vagabonds. But then when I took in Theo...well, he's almost like the child I never had. I care for him very deeply. It's as if he were part of the family. And I feel helpless to do anything for him now. I can't do anything."
"I know. We all feel very helpless right now," Michaela said. "But there is something you can do. You can try to use his real name."
Lillian glanced up with a start. "You mean say those...those Chinamen words? You really believe that's necessary?"
"I think Lao-Tzu would really appreciate it," Michaela said. "I don't think I would like to be called by a name that isn't mine. Would you?"
"That's true. I don't think I would," Lillian said quietly. She stepped forward, shyly grabbing Michaela's hand. "Thank you for bringing me here, Dr. Mike. And thank you for helping the girl. I know for certain she appreciates that."
"I'm glad you came, Lillian," Michaela replied.
"Dr. Mike?" Lillian called, clutching her bathrobe together modestly. "Is everything all right?"
"Lillian, I'm sorry," Michaela murmured, struggling to regain her composure as she screwed the nipple onto the bottle. "I'm afraid we've probably awakened the entire house by now."
"Let me take him," she replied, walking over to the range and lifting Jack into her arms. "He isn't ill, is he? The poor thing."
"Just colicky," Michaela said despairingly as Lillian took a seat at the table in the center of the room. "He can't seem to sleep through the night. I've tried e-everything."
Lillian took the bottle from her and nudged the nipple between the baby's lips. "There you are, darling." She nodded at the chair next to her. "Sit down, Dr. Mike, dry your eyes. He's fine now."
Michaela shook her head, slowly sinking into the chair. "It's not that." She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her nose.
"Then what's wrong?" Lillian asked, stroking the baby's soft cheek with one finger as his eyes slowly drooped.
Michaela sighed, gazing at the baby guiltily. "I don't know. I thought this trip was going to be a week away from everything. But most of the time I still feel like I'm rushing from one thing to the next, one child to the next. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, Lillian. I'm so thankful for everything I have, I just-"
"No, it's all right, Dr. Mike," she replied. "Everyone says having a new baby is a lot of work. If you're waking like this all the time it's no wonder you're tired."
"I know Sully would have liked to...to spend some time together here. And I've just been too exhausted," Michaela went on softly. "Our cabin is so small and crowded. It's so hard to find any privacy there."
Lillian slowly removed the bottle from the sleeping baby's mouth and set it on the table. She smoothed his hair pensively for a long moment before looking up. "I have an idea. Tomorrow you and Sully secure a hotel and spend a few days together...alone."
"How?" Michaela blurted. "The children."
Lillian carefully settled the baby over her shoulder and patted his back. "They can stay here with us. I'll look after them. And Ethan will help as well."
"Oh, Lillian. That's very thoughtful of you but Katie and Byron and the baby, too? They're more work than you imagine-"
"They're perfectly well behaved and sweet as can be. I'd just love to have them under my wing for a few days. And besides, Brian will be here."
"I suppose," Michaela said reluctantly. "Lillian, if I could just have a few days to truly slow down, put my feet up..."
"So take a few days," Lillian said. "Have dinner downtown, see a play. Go. Enjoy yourselves. You don't have a thing to worry about here."
"All right. We'll go," Michaela replied.
"You're have a wonderful time, Dr. Mike," Lillian said, clasping her hand.
"Lillian...why don't you call me Michaela?" she replied.
"Well, yes. If you'd like." She smiled. "Michaela."
* * *
Katie and Byron stood beside her, both clasping her traveling skirt hesitantly. Sully waited close by near the door with Brian, the carpetbag at their feet.
"The boy looks healthy and strong to me," Ethan said, patting Byron's back firmly. "I'm sure it won't come to that."
"And if it does, the best hospital in California is merely a few miles away," Lillian added, the baby dozing in her arms.
"With the very best pediatric ward," Ethan said.
Michaela drew Byron to her side and held him close. "Just watch him carefully. Don't let him overexert himself."
"We'll be careful," Lillian said, caressing Byron's shoulder.
Byron looked up at Michaela and motioned her down to his level with one finger.
"I don't want you to go," he whispered.
"But you'll have a lovely time with Mr. and Mrs. Cooper," Michaela whispered back. "What is it, sweetheart? I thought you wanted to stay here."
He shook his head, bravely holding back tears. "What if I get another tummy ache?"
"You won't get another tummy ache," Michaela said reassuringly. "You ate too much popped corn the other day, that's all. And if you do...well-"
"The hotel lobby has a telephone," Lillian spoke up. "And we have a telephone in our kitchen. We could ring if there's any problem."
"See? We're a telephone apart," Michaela said, kissing his brow. "Be a good boy, all right? You're going to have so much fun."
Sully stepped forward and picked him up, hugging him warmly. "Mind Miss Lillian and Mr. Cooper. They're real kind to look after ya."
"I will, Papa," Byron said, burying his head against his shoulder.
Michaela held Katie tight and kissed her cheeks, then rose back to her feet and caressed Jack's hair.
"Lillian, you're sure?" she murmured.
"Michaela, we'll be fine," Lillian said resolutely. "I promise."
Michaela pressed her lips to the baby's brow for a long moment, then slowly pulled back. "I'll miss you, my darling. I'll miss all of you."
"Come back soon, Mama," Byron spoke up unsteadily.
"The day after tomorrow," Sully replied, picking up their carpetbag. "Right after breakfast."
"Have a good time," Brian said, opening the front door. "Try not to worry, Ma. I'll be right here the whole time."
Michaela clasped his hand, smiling wryly. "I know. I'll try."
Ethan shut the door firmly after them, and then gazed down at the children, clasping the ends of his vest. "Well, what shall we do? How does a ride on one of my sailboats and a picnic lunch sound?"
"A real sailboat, Mr. Cooper?" Katie exclaimed.
"A real sailboat bigger than you can imagine," Brian said. "Ethan even let me steer the other day."
Ethan beamed. "And a fine job you did. Brian, I have the perfect proposition. Why don't we ring Mollie and invite her to join us as well?"
"Mollie?" Brian croaked.
"Oh, yes, Ethan," Lillian said. "What a wonderful idea."
Brian's cheeks warmed. "I guess she would like it."
"Any girl would," Ethan said, nudging his arm. "Let's go on into the kitchen and invite her."
Brian hesitated. "Well, all right...If ya really think she'd want to come."
* * *
"What a beauty!" Ethan replied. "Reel her in, son. Quickly."
Brian pulled the fish over the rail and dropped it on the deck, crouching down to remove the hook.
"Be careful, Brian. They've been known to bite," Ethan said, handing him a large bucket.
"Oh, Brian. That's magnificent!" Mollie cried, pressing her gloved hands to her mouth. "It must be seventy pounds!"
"I would say more around ninety," Ethan spoke up.
Katie stooped beside Brian. "Look at it. We never have fish in Colorado like this."
"This is a saltwater fish, Katie," Ethan explained. "A pacific halibut, to be precise. Wasn't I right, Brian, that if you use anchovies you'll catch something."
"You sure were. I never woulda thought to try anchovies," Brian said, dumping the fish into the bucket and rising back to his feet.
Ethan pulled out his pocket watch. "I believe it's time for lunch. We can fish some more later. Brian, take down the sail," he instructed. "You remember how, don't you?"
Brian beamed. "Yes, sir."
"Good," Ethan said. "I'll bring up our picnic basket." He pulled back the white door at the bow and scurried down the ladder to the cabin below, returning not a few seconds later with the basket. "Lillian, I've been thinking about your ham and mustard sandwiches all morning," he called, walking briskly across the deck to the stern of the boat.
Lillian sat on the row of maroon cushioned seats, Jack cuddled in her lap, cooing and giggling happily. Byron sat beside her, his eyes lowered and arms wrapped around his belly.
"What's wrong with you, son?" Ethan asked, setting the basket on an empty cushion and opening it. "Don't you want to see the fish Brian caught?"
"The little darling is feeling seasick," Lillian said, rubbing Byron's back comfortingly.
"Seasickness is a disease manufactured in the mind, Lillian," Ethan reproached, pulling out one of the brown-wrapped packages from the basket. "Here, Byron. Have a sandwich."
Reluctantly, Byron reached up and took the package from him, slowly unfolding the paper. He swallowed hard as he stared at the sandwich sliced neatly in half.
"Go on. Eat," Ethan encouraged. "It'll make you feel better."
The little boy took a tiny bite of one of the halves, then looked up, shaking his head. "I can't."
Ethan sighed. "Byron, Miss Lillian was in the kitchen for an hour preparing this lunch for us. You're going to hurt her feelings if you keep this up."
"Oh, Ethan. It's all right," Lillian protested. "Let's not force him."
Ethan crossed his arms, scrutinizing Byron's face. "I s'pose he does look a bit green, doesn't he? Well, son, if you truly are going to be ill please take care to do it over the side. I had these cushions imported. They cost more than you can imagine and can't be easily replaced."
Byron nodded quietly.
Ethan glanced across the deck at Katie. She was staring up at the sail, watching reverently as Brian pulled on the downhaul line, gathering the sail against the pole.
"Katie!" Ethan called. "Come sit over here with us and have some lunch."
"You're so skilled at this, Brian," Mollie breathed, as Katie obediently joined Lillian on the cushions and dug into a sandwich.
"Ethan taught me," Brian murmured, jumping down to the deck.
"I'm glad you invited me along," she said. "That was such a sweet gesture."
Brian smiled. "I'm glad ya came."
She leaned against the rail of the deck. "Tell me more about this Gazette you write for," she encouraged. "Auntie is so proud of you."
Brian shrugged. "She exaggerates. It's just a paper with a few pages that comes out every week."
"But for a town as small as Colorado Springs, that's quite a feat, isn't it?" she replied.
"Yeah, I guess if you think of it that way. The editor there, she lets me write as many articles as I want and even work the press sometimes. Miss Dorothy was the first person who got me interested in newspapers."
"The editor is a woman?" Mollie exclaimed. "That's incredible."
"She's the best editor I ever had. But I guess she's the only editor I ever had," Brian said with a grin.
"I want to do that," Mollie said. "I want to be editor of my own magazine. If she can do it, do you suppose I could?"
"Sure," Brian said. "Ma always says ladies can do anything if they want to. You'd make a great editor, Mollie."
"Oh, Brian. Anyone else would have laughed at me if I told them that," she said, gently grasping his hand.
"Why?" he questioned. "As long as you do your job good, that's what matters."
"If I have someone like you believing in me, I can do it," she said. "And I will someday."
"Maybe I'll even work under ya. I want to be a senior reporter at a big publication."
"Think of us, working together, side by side," she murmured. "You could move to San Francisco. Besides, your father is already here."
Brain glanced across the boat at Ethan. He was chewing leisurely on his sandwich, a glass of wine in hand. "He ain't my father, Mollie," Brian said quietly.
"Don't worry, I know the entire story," Mollie replied. "Auntie and Mr. Sully took you in and adopted you. My mother told me everything ages ago."
"And now they're my ma and pa, my family," Brian said. "Ethan is just...Ethan."
"But you still love him, don't you?" Mollie asked. "You still enjoy coming here and visiting him?"
"Well, sure," he said.
"Think of all the publications here at your fingertips. And if you grow homesick, you could always visit Mr. and Mrs. Cooper." She leaned forward and gave his lips a tiny peck. "And you could visit me."
Taken aback, Brian drew in his breath and grasped the ledge of the rail to steady himself. He stole a peek at Ethan and Lillian, grateful to see they hadn't noticed the kiss.
"Brian," Mollie whispered. "I never intended this, I never thought I could...well, enjoy spending time with someone like you...but...these past few days have been so wonderful. I just don't want you to leave in a week."
"I don't either, Mollie," Brian murmured. "You're a real sweet girl. I like bein' together, too. I thought you'd be...well, seein' as you're ma's niece and all and a Quinn from Boston. I mean-"
"I know," Mollie said with a soft chuckle. "Spoiled rotten."
"But you're not," Brian immediately said. "You're kind and fun and...and beautiful. Ya remind me of..."
"Of who?" Mollie asked curiously.
Brian smiled softly. "Somebody I care for a whole lot. Somebody I know still cares for me."
"I could care for you," she whispered. "Brian, can we see each other again tomorrow? I'll show you where all the newspaper headquarters are downtown. We can try to get your journal published."
"I'd have to ask Ethan," Brian said hesitantly.
"Don't worry. He'll let you," she said assuredly. "He loves me."
* * *
"Wake up," he whispered.
Michaela slowly opened her eyes, reaching up to cup Sully's cheek in her hand. "Mmm...I was dreaming," she murmured.
"I know," he replied wryly. "Ya were smilin' in your sleep."
"I was?" she blurted, embarrassment warming her cheeks.
He chuckled softly. "Was I in this dream?"
A grin spread across her lips. "As a matter of fact you were."
"Tell me," he urged.
"No. It was silly."
He tickled her chin with one finger. "Come on. It's just us here. I won't tell anybody."
She glanced around the room, as if to be sure they were alone. "I suppose. You and I were at the seashore. I don't know why but there was no one else there."
He threaded his fingers with hers. "Keep goin'."
"Well," she murmured uncertainly. "We...we were...we-...we were in the sand and we-"
He raised his eyebrows. "And?"
"Let's just say we were having a nice time," she whispered.
A smirk spread across his face. "Sounds like a good dream."
She swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "It was very...detailed."
He chuckled, kissing her lips. "The sun's settin'. Let's go down there now and watch it."
"To the seashore?"
He wrapped his arm around her back and sat her up. "Ain't too often we get to see the sun sink over the Pacific Ocean."
* * *
"Nobody's gonna notice us," Sully said, grabbing her hand and helping her step down from the pier to the sand.
"It's your fault if we're caught," Michaela said, glancing at him sternly.
Sully wrapped his arm around her back and pressed his chin to her head. "Michaela, look."
She slowly gazed out at the serene ocean, the waves lapping quietly against the shore as the last bit of sun disappeared. "It looks like fire on water," she murmured in awe. "Like we're standing at the edge of the world, Sully."
He smiled, taking her hand and leading her on a leisurely stroll parallel to the water.
"Now we've seen both oceans," she remarked. "Did you ever imagine?"
He drew her close and kissed her head. "I don't care about seein' anythin', unless I got you with me to share it."
She paused in her steps and kissed him slowly and sensuously. "I'm sorry we've been so...so busy this entire trip," she whispered, reaching her hands up to caress his chest. "But right now you have my undivided attention."
"Good," he murmured, reaching around her waist and speedily unfastening the tiny clasps of her blouse.
"...Sully," she protested.
"Let's go for a swim," he said, pulling her blouse over her head and dropping it to the sand.
"A swim? But it's probably freezing."
"Just for a minute," he said mischievously, slipping out of his vest and dress shirt and letting them fall.
"What if someone sees us!" she exclaimed.
"Nobody's around," he insisted. "Come on. 'Sides, with just us here ya don't gotta wear one of them bathin' costumes this time."
She reluctantly unlaced her shoes and stepped out of them. "I suppose that's true."
He grabbed her hand, drawing her toward the water. "Come on!"
Giggling, she unbuttoned the waistband of her skirt and stepped out of it. Together they ran into the waves, laughing and clenching their teeth as the icy water penetrated Sully's trousers and Michaela's camisole and underskirts. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around as another wave crashed against their bodies and dampened their hair.
"We're crazy!" Michaela exclaimed, holding him tight.
He pushed back her hair from her face, gazing at her lovingly. "Ya get more beautiful every day, Michaela," he whispered, cupping the back of her neck in his hand and drawing her lips to his. Slowly, he grasped her hand and drew it tightly to his side. They sauntered out of the waves and back to the sand, falling to their knees in front of the last rays of sun, eyes locked.
* * *
She had his jacket wrapped warmly around her shoulders, the satisfied expression of having gotten away with something daring and provocative all across her face.
Sully braced her foot against his chest and tied her boot. He paused, reaching up to wipe away a streak of sand clinging to her cheek.
She chuckled softly. "We have sand everywhere."
"Was it as good as that dream ya had?" he whispered playfully.
She blushed, nodding ever so slightly. "Better."
"What do you say we get back to the hotel and have a warm bath?" he murmured with a grin.
"That sounds nice," she replied tenderly. "We need to change out of these wet clothes."
He slipped on her other boot and quickly tied the laces. "Let's go."
"You there! What's going on here!" a man shouted sternly, holding his lantern in front of the couple.
Startled, Michaela let out an involuntary cry and clutched Sully's jacket tightly around her. She turned around to face a tall, dark-haired police officer with a thick mustache, the brass buttons of his blue coat polished and reflecting in the light.
"Can't you read?" the officer demanded, reaching his free hand up to straighten his insignia-marked helmet. "No one is to be swimming after dusk! Do you know what sort of fine I could give you?"
"The lady was drownin'," Sully blurted.
Michaela looked at Sully with raised eyebrows, perplexed.
"I had no choice but to jump in after her," Sully added firmly.
Michaela attempted to brighten her expression, sliding down from the pier to the sand and standing beside Sully. "This kind gentleman saved my life. I don't know what I was thinking, going in that water."
"I see," the officer replied, resting the lantern on the pier and slowly pulling out a notepad as he eyed Sully. "Nonetheless you are on the beach after hours. Do you realize how dangerous that is? That's a ten dollar fine at the least-"
"He should be given a reward for his bravery," Michaela interjected.
Slowly, the officer put his notepad back in his coat pocket. "Yes...I suppose you did save her life. Well done, good man."
Sully nodded. "Thanks."
The officer folded his arms. "I'll let it go this time."
"Yes, sir," Sully said quickly. "I was just about to see her home."
"Carry on then. But be quick about it," he replied, picking up his lantern and walking briskly back down the pier.
Michaela burst into laughter, grasping Sully's arm. "I didn't know you could act, Mr. Sully."
He chuckled, watching as the officer's lantern disappeared into the darkness. "You weren't bad yourself."
"Do you think he suspected?" she whispered, biting her lip.
He took her hand, grinning. "If he did he wasn't gonna let us know." He kissed her cheek. "Let's get back. I could really use that warm bath right now."
"Me, too," she said, grabbing his hand and smiling wide.
* * *
"Don't they want you to have opportunities like this?" Mollie asked, her hands wrapped around his arm. "Besides, it's not as if you've already agreed to stay here. You're still just thinking about it. But I think you need to at least tell them."
"I know my pa don't like Ethan," Brian said. "He just won't give him a chance. He's not gonna like the idea one bit."
"You'll have to just explain that Mr. Cooper's a nice man," Mollie told him. "He cares about you. He asks about Yosemite all the time, doesn't he? You see? He's interested in you."
"You're right. He is," Brian replied with conviction. "He's never...never taken an interest in me like that."
"I think it's wonderful," she replied. "Mr. Sully will see that, in time."
"I always thought I was lucky, havin' two pas," Brian said. "Now I think it ain't so fun anymore. I don't think either of 'em likes the other. I feel like I'm caught in the middle."
"I think they must be jealous," Mollie suggested. "If you stay here with Ethan, Mr. Sully's going to be hurt. But if you decline and go back to Yosemite, then Mr. Cooper is the one who will be hurt."
"I know," Brian murmured. "I can't win."
"Then stop worrying so much about them and think about what you want," she said, squeezing his arm. "You have to put yourself first."
"I s'pose," Brian replied. "San Francisco is nice...but Yosemite's an opportunity, too."
She drew closer to him. "Well, you already know what I'd like you to do. But ultimately it's your decision."
Brian nodded. "Let's get back to Ethan's now. You can spend the day with us."
"That's sounds lovely," Mollie replied with a grin. "Let's go."
* * *
Silently, she turned in the chair, stood up and crossed the room, leaning over the bed with a grin and smoothing his hair from his brow. "Good morning," she whispered lovingly.
He slowly opened his eyes, lips curling into a smile as he touched the silk fabric of her gown sleeve. "Dressed already?"
She nodded, caressing his bare chest. "Are you still thinking about Ethan?"
"Some," he admitted softly. "But mostly about Brian."
"I have something for you. Come see."
He sat up and swung his legs out of bed, taking her hand and glancing around the room. "Where we goin'?"
Michaela opened the doors to the balcony. A warm ocean breeze entered the room and bright sunshine blazed down on them. On the small table, she had set an elaborate tray of breakfast fixings, complete with scrambled eggs, sausage, coffee, biscuits and jam.
"Michaela? What's all this?"
"Sit," she instructed, pulling out his chair and guiding him down to it. "I thought we could eat our breakfast out here, overlooking the seashore."
He glanced out at the ocean with a smile. "It's real pretty."
She took a seat across from him and pushed forward a small stack of journals tied together with a lacy white ribbon. "This is for you."
"What's this for?" Sully asked, unlacing the ribbon.
"It's...it's a gift," she said shyly. "It's a collection of some of the articles John Muir has had published about the park. I thought it would be nice if you could have your own copies."
He flipped through a few of the pages. "Yosemite in Winter," he read. "Yosemite in Spring, Yosemite Glaciers."
Michaela stood up and circled around behind him, reaching over his shoulders and opening one of the pamphlets. "I like what he says here. He's talking about spending a night in the valley," she whispered, pointing at one of the paragraphs. "'The meadow was velvet with grass, and circled with the most beautiful of all the coniferae, the Williamson spruce. I built a great fire, and the daisies of the sod rayed as if conscious of a sun."
Sully smiled and caressed her hand as she gave his cheek a soft kiss and continued to read aloud.
"'As I lay on my back, feeling the presence of the trees gleaming upon the dark, and gushing with life-coming closer and closer about me, and saw the small round sky coming down with its stars to dome my trees, I said, 'Never was mountain mansion more beautiful, more spiritual; never was moral wanderer more blessedly homed.''"
He turned in his chair and drew her lips to his in a soft caress. "It's beautiful. Thank you."
"I just wanted to tell you...I probably don't say it enough, but...I love you, Sully." She kissed his brow. "I want you to know that I realize how much you enjoy living and working in the valley. To see you so happy has in turn made me so happy. Our year here is important to you and it's important to me as well."
He nudged her down into his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist as she threaded her fingers with his. "Ya smell nice," he said, softly kissing her cheek.
"Sully, things are going to work out with Brian and Ethan," Michaela murmured. "Everything's going to be all right."
"You're what makes me happy, not some park," he replied, gently rocking her. "I'm glad you're here."
She smiled. "Yes. Me, too."
* * *
"You're fishin'!" Brian said, leaning forward on the ottoman next to Mollie.
Katie shook her head with a grin, gazing up at the ceiling with animated eyes.
"You're driving a carriage!" Mollie spoke up.
Katie giggled. "Nope. Keep guessing."
"I know!" Lillian exclaimed. "A kite! You're flying a kite!"
Katie beamed. "Yeah! A kite!"
"That was good, Katie!" Brian said as Katie returned to her chair next to him. "That did look like you were flying a kite."
"Well done, Katie," Ethan praised, clapping his hands and glancing at Byron. He was seated next to the fire on a cushion, head bent. "Whose turn is it next? Byron? You haven't gone yet." He held a top hat brimming with small pieces of folded paper in front of the silent little boy.
Tiredly, Byron reached into the hat and pulled out a slip of paper, unfolding it and gazing at the word for a long moment.
"Stand in the middle of the room and act it out," Ethan instructed. "What are you waiting for?"
"Perhaps he needs help reading it," Mollie suggested, walking over to kneel beside her cousin. "Let me see, Byron. I'll whisper it in your ear."
"No. I can read it," Byron replied, crumpling the paper up in his hand.
"Ya need some ideas for how to act it out, B.?" Brian asked, reaching over and patting his shoulder.
"No. I...I don't really wanna play," he said softly.
"You don't?" Ethan blurted. "Why not? Byron, come to the center and act out your word. You're holding up the game."
"Charades is fun, B.," Brian encouraged. "Nobody's gonna laugh at ya, I promise. Come on. We're all takin' a turn."
Byron rubbed his eyes, pursing his lips to hold back tears. "I don't want to, Brian. I don't want to. I'm sleepy."
"Let me get him some hot cocoa and take him up to bed, Ethan," Lillian said, crossing the room and taking Byron's hand.
"Bed already? It's only seven o'clock," Ethan protested. "Lillian, you can't spoil him like this." He gazed down at the child impatiently. "Byron, what's the matter? Big boys don't cower in bed. We troop through and continue to go about our routines like a man. And we're all the stronger for it."
"Oh, he's just a child," Lillian said, drawing Byron to his feet. "He doesn't want to play, Ethan. He wants to go to bed."
Ethan paced in front of the fire, irritated. "First when we take him for a boat ride all he wants to do is sit, then he won't touch more than a few bites of anything we offer him, now he refuses to participate in a perfectly entertaining game that no one else seems to have objection to. You're quite a difficult guest to please, aren't you, young man? Is this how your parents allow you to behave at home because this is not acceptable in my house, Byron."
Brian stepped toward Ethan. "He's shy sometimes. He can't help it. He's just shy."
"I believe he misses Auntie. Right Byron?" Mollie spoke up sympathetically. "Perhaps he's never been separated from her like this. The poor dear."
"Well, if you all insist on keeping him perpetually two years old I won't stand by and watch," Ethan said impatiently. "Go, Lillian. Take him up to bed if you must."
Lillian wrapped her arm around the little boy. "Say goodnight to everyone, darling. I'll tuck you in."
"'Night," Byron said tearfully.
"'Night, B.," Brian said quietly.
"Goodnight," Katie said.
Ethan heaved a sigh. "Goodnight, son. Hopefully you'll see things in a different light tomorrow."
"It's been a nice two days, hasn't it?" Michaela said softly.
Sully drew her closer and kissed her head. "We should do this more often."
"What's this?" Michaela spoke up, nodding at a group of colorful tents situated in a shadowy alley. Couples and adolescents were lined up outside the tents, giggling and smiling.
"A dime to have your fortune read," Sully said, gesturing at a sign. A gypsy stood next to it, dressed in tattered trousers and fake gold necklaces, collecting fees from costumers.
"Let's do it," Michaela said boldly. "Let's have our fortunes read."
"We both know it's all a bunch of foolishness, Michaela. They just want our ten cents."
"Yes. I know," she replied with a grin. "Just for fun. Please, Sully? I'm feeling adventurous tonight."
He chuckled, unable to resist. "If ya really want to."
"We'll enjoy it," she said enthusiastically, leading him up to the gypsy.
The man collected the money from Sully and then pulled back the flap of the smallest tent. "In here," he said, escorting them inside to a small circular table. There sat an elderly woman, wrapped in a thick black wool shawl, her straggly gray hair tucked under a decorative navy blue kerchief. She peered up at the couple through thick spectacles.
"Sit down," she said, her voice rough with age.
Sully pulled out Michaela's chair and then sat beside her, watching the woman curiously. She hunched over a cracked crystal globe in the center of the table, waving her hand over it dramatically.
"My, you have been through many things together," she began slowly, the smell of incense pungent in the dark room. "You married and have children. Three...No four."
Michaela glanced at Sully with a grin. "Yes."
She gazed at Michaela and held out her hand. "Give me your palm."
Tentatively, Michaela laid her arm on the table. The woman gently held her around the wrist and studied the lines of her hand. "You're far from home."
"Does it say that?" Michaela asked, leaning forward.
"I see another child for you. Very soon," she went on, gazing at the hand closer.
Michaela sat back, blinking with surprise. "What?"
"That can't be. We're...done with that," Sully said, clearing his throat.
She glanced up at them. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No. Go on," Michaela murmured.
The woman shook her head, sighing.
"What?" Michaela asked. "What does it say?"
"Soon someone close to you will become very, very ill. It will be a long illness with...much fear. This person means everything to you. You won't let them go easily."
"Who?" Michaela asked hesitantly.
"And you're packing. You will leave."
"Leave where? Why would I leave?" Michaela demanded.
"It's...not clear."
Michaela withdrew her hand, setting it back in her lap.
"Now your palm, sir," the woman said, gazing at Sully.
"No, thanks," Sully murmured, grasping Michaela's arm. "Let's go."
Michaela nodded in agreement, gathering her skirts and standing up.
Sully led her out of the tent. "Hey, let's go back to the hotel. I was gettin' tired of walkin' anyway."
"You don't think those things could be true, do you, Sully?" Michaela asked quietly. "What that gypsy told us?"
"She knew we were married just by seein' your ring," he said hesitantly. "Lucky guess about how many kids we got. Everythin' else she made up."
"Yes, you're right," she murmured, swallowing.
They ascended the steps of the hotel and walked up to their room. Sully shut the door firmly after them and locked it. He rested against the door and drew her to him around the waist, giving her lips a soft, sweet kiss before he pulled back, walked to the mantel and squatted down to start a fire.
Michaela followed him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. "Did you enjoy our little second honeymoon?"
"Is that what this was?" he replied wryly, lighting a match and throwing it on the kindling.
She squatted beside him and drew his lips to hers. "This was so restful, Sully. I needed it. We needed some time to just be alone. Thank you for coming with me."
"Thanks for invitin' me," he whispered, guiding her down to her back and giving her neck a slow, tantalizing trail of kisses.
Byron ran his hand across his brow once more, swiping at the perspiration dampening his hair and sliding down his temples. He rolled over in bed to face his sister, propping himself up with his hands. "Katie!" he called. "Katie, wake up. Katie. Katie, please wake up. Katie!"
The little girl stretched her legs in bed, slowly opening her eyes.
"Katie, is Mama back yet?" he said in a loud whisper.
She rubbed her eyes, sitting up in bed. "No, not till after breakfast tomorrow."
"Katie, I don't feel good. My tummy hurts again."
Katie crawled out of bed and walked over to him, eyeing him curiously. "Did you throw up?"
"No," he said quietly. "Am I going to? I want Mama."
"You're all wet," she remarked. She pressed her hand to her forehead, then brought it to his in comparison, biting her lip. She glanced at the basin of water and towel for washing on the night table between them. Methodically, she dipped the towel into the water, wrung it out, and placed it haphazardly across Byron's forehead. "There, that's what Mama does," she said, pressing the towel to his skin firmly. "You feel better now?"
"A little."
Katie pressed her ear to his nightshirt, closing her eyes. "Your heart's beating."
"That's good," Byron replied.
She planted a small kiss on his cheek. "Go to sleep. 'Night."
"'Night," Byron murmured, pulling the covers up to his chin, closing his eyes and waiting patiently for sleep to come. He took a sip from the glass of water Brian had set on the night table for him. He even tried to tell himself a Cheyenne story his father had told him once. But as the minutes passed, the pain in his abdomen only grew worse and he became even more awake and alert. Finally, he removed the soggy towel from his head, placing it beside him, and slipped out of bed.
"Katie?" he whispered. "Katie!" He watched for a moment as she slept on, undisturbed, then walked across the room and peered into his little brother's bassinette. "Jack! Jack!"
The baby was sound asleep.
Frustrated, Byron walked to the door and opened it, venturing into the dark hallway. Carefully, he tiptoed to the next room, forgetting to knock as he turned the doorknob and walked in.
Brian was curled up on his side in bed, sleeping soundly, a book he had been reading lying open beside him.
"Brian!" the little boy shouted. "Brian! Brian!"
Brian roused instantly, getting out of bed and taking his brother's hand. "What is it, B.? Look at ya. You're sweatin' somethin' awful."
"I got a tummy ache again. I might throw up."
Brian smoothed back his hair sympathetically. "Somethin' musta disagreed with ya at supper. Want me to sit in the privy with ya?"
"Will ya?" Byron asked hesitantly.
"Sure." He took his hand and led him down the hall to Ethan and Lillian's tiled washroom. He situated the little boy in front of the commode and crouched beside him, rubbing his back and talking to him for several minutes. Byron rarely spoke. He simply sat in silence, staring blankly at the floral wallpaper, one hand clutching his belly. Finally, Brian stood up and opened the cabinet above the sink, searching through bandages, tonics and toothbrushes. He returned to Byron's side a moment later, sitting back down.
"Here, B.," he said, sliding a thermometer between the little boy's lips. "Let's get your temperature. Looks like ya might be a little sick with somethin'." He pulled it from his lips a minute later, gazing at the reading in disbelief. One hundred and three. He looked up desperately.
"I got a fever?" Byron asked.
Brian attempted to brighten his expression, throat dry with panic. "Just a little one, B. I think we'd better get ya to a doctor, all right? Let's go wake up Ethan." He set the thermometer on the counter and picked him up, hurrying down the hall and knocking forcefully on Ethan's door.
"Ethan!" he shouted. "Ethan, wake up! It's Brian! Ethan! Lillian!"
"What's going on?" Ethan called, turning the lock and opening the door a crack. "Brian, what are you doing? It's one o'clock in the morning!"
Brian put his little brother on his feet, wrapping his arm around him. "B.'s sick. He's got a fever. I think we should take him to a hospital."
Ethan gazed down at the little boy with a sigh. "Oh, he looks all right. Children come down with things all the time, son. Surely this can wait a few hours until morning."
"I know my brother and he ain't actin' right," Brian insisted. "We gotta at least bring a doctor out here to look at him."
"I want my mama," Byron spoke up hoarsely, looking up as Lillian appeared in the doorway. She opened the door wider and squinted at the light in the hallway.
"What's the matter?" she asked, stooping to Byron's level and pressing her palm to his forehead. "My God, Ethan. The poor thing's burning up," she gasped. "What's wrong, Byron? What hurts?"
"My tummy again," he said shyly.
"You see? Just a bit of an upset stomach. You fret too much, Lillian," Ethan reproached, squatting to his knees. "Byron, son, it's the middle of the night. Why don't you go back to bed? You let us know if you still feel poorly in the morning."
Byron swallowed, slowly nodding. He turned around, took a small step down the hall and then stopped, dizziness overcoming him. Seconds later his legs gave way.
Brian fell to his knees and caught the little boy under the arms just before he hit the floor. "B.! You all right?"
Byron slowly opened his eyes, forehead bathed in sweat. "Brian," he whispered weakly.
"If you won't take him to the hospital then I will!" Brian said, picking up his brother and glaring at Ethan firmly.
"Come on, Ethan," Lillian said, grabbing his hand. "Let's get dressed!"
* * *
Michaela stirred in bed as Sully sat up.
"What's wrong?" she asked hoarsely, grasping his arm.
"Somebody's at the door," he murmured rubbing his eyes with one hand. "I'll get it."
Michaela slowly gathered her senses, sitting up and slipping into her bathrobe as Sully unlocked the door.
"So sorry to disturb you, sir," a young bellhop said, tipping his hat. "A Mrs. Lillian Cooper is on the telephone asking for you. If you wouldn't mind coming down to the lobby and taking the call."
"Sully? Why is she ringing in the middle of the night?" Michaela asked restlessly, joining him at the door.
"Let's find out," Sully said, taking her hand and hurrying out of the room.
They followed the bellhop down the stairs to the empty lobby and front desk. Another hotel worker in uniform was waiting at the desk with the brass telephone receiver in hand, one end of a cloth cord connected to the receiver, the other end connected to a small wooden box mounted on the wall.
"Let me talk to her," Michaela said, stepping in front of Sully and resting her hands on the desk. "How do I...?"
"Speak clearly into this, ma'am," the man instructed, handing her the receiver. "Then to listen bring it to your ear."
Awkwardly, Michaela held the contraption to her lips. "Lillian? It's Michaela. What's wrong?" She quickly lifted the receiver to her ear and strained to hear.
"Oh, Michaela. Byron. I don't know," Lillian replied tearfully. "We're here at the hospital."
"Is it his asthma?" she blurted, holding the receiver to her lips and then pressing it back to her ear.
"No, no. It's not that. They need you to sign over consent to operate. His intestine or appendix or something or other. I don't know but they keep saying they need to operate at once."
"Oh, my God. Brynie. Lillian, what happened?"
Sully stepped closer, eyeing Michaela fearfully. "What's wrong?"
"Shh, I can barely hear," Michaela said, pressing the receiver to her ear tightly.
"He woke in the middle of the night with a fever," Lillian explained. "The doctors say if they don't remove it now he...Michaela, I'm so sorry. We thought it couldn't be anything more than a catarrh! We didn't know!"
Michaela shifted it back to her lips. "Where are you?"
"St. Mary's Medical Center on Stanyan Street. Ethan and I are waiting in the lobby with Brian and Katie and the baby."
"We're coming," Michaela said, handing the receiver back to the hotel worker.
"What's goin' on?" Sully demanded.
"Byron's in the hospital," Michaela said, turning to him, her face ashen. "They need us to give consent before they can begin surgery."
* * *
"Ma! Pa!" Brian shouted, rising from his seat next to the Coopers and hurrying over to his parents.
"Where's Byron?" Michaela asked, clutching his hands.
A tall, gray-haired man in a white coat walked briskly over to the two, stepping in front of Brian. "Are you the child's parents?"
"What's wrong with my son?" Michaela demanded.
"Acute appendicitis," the doctor said, tucking his clipboard under his arm and pressing his fingers to his lower right side in demonstration. "We all have an organ called the appendix which occasionally, especially in male children, can become infected-"
"Yes, yes, I know what it is," Michaela interrupted. "You performed a full examination of his abdomen?"
"Of course we did," he said impatiently.
"What's his temperature?"
He flipped back a page of his clipboard. "One-hundred and five as of a few minutes ago. I don't exaggerate when I say the child is very ill. If he's to have any chance, I must highly advise that you allow us to operate immediately. The fever alone could cause irreparable damage."
"Please, could I be in the operating theater?" Michaela asked hopefully. "I won't interfere."
"Absolutely not. I can't have a female swooning all over the place while I'm trying to work."
"I never swoon," she retorted. "I'm a doctor. Please, I've done the procedure myself at least a hundred times."
"And I've done it a thousand," he snapped. He handed her his clipboard and pulled a pen from his pocket, dipping it in the inkwell on the nearby check-in counter. "We're wasting precious time. Your signature at the bottom please if you'd be so kind. As well as yours, Mr. Sully."
Tearfully, Michaela signed the form, then handed the pen to Sully and watched as he scratched his signature.
"Very good. Thank you," the doctor said, tucking the clipboard under his arm. He eyed them sympathetically, scratching his chin. "Would you like to see him before we begin?"
"Yes," Michaela replied immediately. "Oh, please. Let us see him."
"Quickly then," he said firmly. "We must begin surgery right away."
* * *
"Mama," Byron whimpered hoarsely. He was curled up in the small hospital bed in a gray shift, a damp cloth across his forehead.
"I'm here," she choked, removing the cloth and dipping it in the basin of water on the table beside the bed. "I'm right here, sweetheart."
"Your ma and me are here," Sully spoke up unsteadily, placing one hand on Michaela's shoulder. "You take it easy."
Byron looked up at him tearfully. "Papa. I forgot my puppy. I left him on my bed at Ethan's."
"I'll take care of him for ya," he said. "He'll be all right."
"We'll be waiting for you after your operation," Michaela whispered, laying the cloth back across his forehead. "When you wake up we'll be right there."
He shook his head. "I'm gonna die, Mama."
"Oh, no, sweetheart. No, you're not going to die," Michaela admonished, squeezing his hand tight. "You're going to feel so much better very soon."
The doctor opened his pocket watch impatiently from the doorway. "We need to take him now," he spoke up, motioning two nurses standing behind him into the room.
"Mama, you come with me. I want you to come," Byron pleaded.
"I can't, darling. I can't," she said, kissing his head. "Don't be frightened. The doctors here are very good. They'll take good care of you. Oh, I love you, sweetheart."
Sully caressed his cheek. "We love ya, Byron. You be brave about this. Like the Cheyenne, all right? It'll be over 'fore ya know it."
"Mama!" Byron cried as the nurses wheeled him out into the hallway. "Mama! No! Mama! Mama!"
"It's all right, darling," Michaela said unsteadily, following them down the hall. "Oh. Don't cry. It's all right."
Byron twisted his head around, straining to see his parents. "Mama! Mama, come with me! Mama!"
"No one past this point," the doctor said, holding up his hand.
Sully wrapped his arm around Michaela's waist in support as the nurses wheeled the bed through a set of double doors and disappeared.
Michaela shook her head, Byron's cries fading as they wheeled him farther away. "He's terrified. He wants me. Sully, he's crying for me. Oh, sweetheart."
"Ethan and Lillian say this is the best hospital in California. He's in good hands."
She shook her head, choking up. "Sully..."
He drew her close and rubbed her back. "Let's go back to the waitin' room. Won't do any good standing here."
* * *
Nearby, Brian held Jack in his lap and absently stroked Katie's hair as she slept beside them. He glanced across the room at his parents. They were sitting stiff, eyes gazing blankly forward. He rose to his feet and gave the baby to Lillian, then crossed the room.
"Ma? Pa?" he whispered.
Sully slowly glanced up.
"B. kept askin' for his puppy," Brian said. "The whole carriage ride here and then some. I was thinkin' I should go back and get it for him."
"That's very thoughtful of you, Brian," Michaela said hoarsely. "You don't have to."
"I want to stay here and find out how he is," Brian said. "But I figure sittin' around don't help much. All he wants is that puppy. Let me bring it here so he can have it when he's recoverin'."
Sully gently patted his arm. "All right. If that's what ya wanna do."
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, grabbing his coat from his chair and hurrying out the door.
Moments later a young nurse walked through the doors of a waiting room. Her face was solemn and rigid beneath her stiff white hat and her gray eyes were focused squarely on the couple as she slowly approached them.
Sully and Michaela leaped to their feet.
"How's he doin'?" Sully asked, stepping forward. "How'd it go?"
"Can we see him?" Michaela added.
"There's...there's been a complication," she said quietly.
"Byron," Michaela murmured, grasping Sully's arm. "What? What happened?"
"Let's sit down."
"No," Sully said vehemently. "Just tell us."
She sighed, folding her hands. "He's fallen into a febrile seizure brought on by the high temperature."
"What do ya mean a seizure?" Sully demanded. "What's goin' on?"
"He's shaking on the table quite violently," she explained. "This isn't uncommon for a child so young but...the doctor has to suspend surgery until it stops."
"When's it gonna stop?" Sully queried anxiously.
"Usually within five minutes," Michaela said unsteadily. "Sometimes longer."
The nurse nodded, swallowing hard. "The longer the doctor has to wait...I know this is hard to think about now but we want to know...would you like us to send for the hospital priest?"
"...Sully," Michaela said, voice breaking.
Sully held her around the shoulders tightly, shaking his head. "But he's gonna come out of it, right? He's gonna make it."
"I'm sorry. We just don't know."
"I have to see him," Michaela said. "Please. Oh, please."
"Send for somebody," Sully murmured quickly, glancing at Michaela.
The nurse gently patted his hand. "All right. Just wait here. I'll come back as soon as I know anything different."
"No. I have to see him. Let me see my son!" Michaela cried.
Sully carefully led her back to the chairs, sitting down with her and grasping her hand tightly. "They're doin' all they can."
She fell into tears of disbelief. "Sully...he can't. I couldn't..."
"Michaela, he's gonna pull through," he said, voice filled with emotion. "He's strong."
Ethan tentatively rose from his seat. He slowly walked over to the couple, hands folded. "Sully, Dr. Quinn," he began quietly. "Would you like some coffee or something to eat? Or a blanket. It's a little chilly in here. Is there anything at all I can do?"
"Not now, Ethan," Sully said.
"Sully...I can't tell you how sorry I am for this," he replied. "We just didn't realize the seriousness of it. The boy should have told us he was more ill than he appeared."
"He's five years old," Michaela said tearfully. "How was he supposed to know?"
"Anythin' happens to him," Sully said, eyeing him fervidly, "I'm holdin' you at fault, Ethan."
* * *
Michaela shook with surprise as the nurse opened the door to the waiting room, followed by a priest in a dark suit, his graying red hair slicked back. She and Sully rose to their feet, arms around each other as the two approached. Whatever the news, they would face it together.
"Well, you've got quite a determined young man there," the priest said, clutching his Bible to his chest.
"...Then he's all right," Michaela said, a fresh wave of tears slipping down her cheeks.
Sully held her tighter. "He's all right."
"He's just waking up," the nurse whispered. "Now, he's going to be a bit disoriented and we'll have to watch him carefully while he's recuperating, but the fever's coming down and-" She paused, eyeing the restless couple with a soft smile. "We can talk about all of this later. Would you like to sit with him?"
"Yes!" Michaela immediately replied.
"All right. Follow me."
She led them through the door and down a long hallway, opening another set of doors to another even longer hallway. They climbed a set of stairs and made several turns, Michaela and Sully growing all the more impatient, until finally the nurse stopped in front of a door at the end of a hall, slowly opening it.
Another young nurse was standing beside Byron's bed, holding his head up and helping him sip from a glass of water. He was covered with a thin sheet and blinking tiredly, hair clinging to his damp brow. Michaela rushed to the child's side, cupping his cheeks in her hands and kissing him lovingly.
"Oh, my sweetheart. I'm here. Mama's here." She glanced at the nurse. "How is he?"
"Not quite back yet," the nurse said, patting the little boy's hand. "But we're getting there. We just gave him some morphine. He should be more comfortable soon."
Byron grabbed Michaela's blouse sleeve tightly, eyes brightening with recognition. He struggled to speak, tears of relief clouding his vision.
"Just lie still," Michaela whispered, stroking his hair. "It's all right. I'm right here, Brynie. I won't leave."
Sully circled the bed and took a seat on the opposite side, gently caressing his arm. "Hey, Byron. How ya doin'?"
Byron grabbed his father's hand and took a deep breath. "...Good," he choked out.
"Oh," Michaela murmured, giving him another kiss. "You did so well, darling. We're so proud of you. Here, try some more water." She shifted higher on the bed and slipped her arm beneath his neck, raising his head up and holding the glass to his lips.
"The boy's looking well," Ethan spoke up from the doorway.
Sully rose from the bed and walked briskly over to the door. Silently, he pressed his hand to Ethan's chest and shoved him into the hall, shutting the door tight behind them.
"I knew all along he'd be fine," Ethan went on. "He may be on the small side, a bit of a runt, but he's sound."
"Save it, Ethan," Sully blurted, grabbing him by the collar and pinning him against the wall. "Our child nearly died."
Ethan's eyes widened and he struggled for breath. "Sully...wait-"
Sully gripped his collar harder, eyes flickering with rage. "This is the second time ya almost ripped my family apart."
"You're just upset, Sully. You have no cause to take it out on me!"
"From now on, ya stay away from us," Sully said vehemently. "And ya stay away from Brian! Ya stay away from my son!"
"You can't do this," Ethan shouted. "He's my son!"
"Pa!" Brian called, hurrying down the hall, the stuffed puppy in hand. "Pa, stop!"
Sully released his hold on Ethan and fell back against the opposite wall. Ethan strained and gasped for air, rubbing his neck.
"What're ya doing?" Brian demanded, slowly approaching Sully. "Pa! It ain't his fault!"
Sully rested his hands on his knees and caught his breath. "He don't care about anybody but himself. You're a man now, Brian. It's time ya see that."
"No, that ain't true," Brian insisted. "He...he cares about me." He took a deep breath. "He wants me to stay here until the year's up and help manage his ships."
Stunned, Sully slowly looked at Ethan.
"It's true, Sully," Ethan said. "I offered the boy a job. Then come spring, I would send him back to you."
"Pa...we can sit down and talk about this later," Brian said. "How's B.? I found his puppy."
"He's just startin' to wake up," Sully murmured. "Ya can go on in."
"We'll talk about it," Brian said softly. "I promise."
* * *
"Brought us somethin' hot to drink," Sully said softly, setting the tray on the nightstand and pulling a chair up beside her.
"Thank you," she whispered back, picking up one of the mugs with her free hand.
"How's he doin' now?" Sully asked, clasping Byron's hand in his.
"Fast asleep," Michaela said wryly, giving Byron's brow a loving kiss. "But he was back to talking without so much as taking a breath when he was awake."
"Runs in the family," Sully said, glancing at Michaela teasingly.
She sobered, sighing. "Brian told me what happened in the hall. I know about the job Ethan's offered him."
Sully leaned forward in his chair, taking the other mug off the tray and sipping at the weak hospital coffee as he gazed at Byron. "I can't believe Ethan would do this again."
"Perhaps it's not such a terrible idea," she replied.
"Ya sayin' ya want him to stay here?" he blurted, straightening.
"No. I want him with us of course," she said. "But perhaps San Francisco is the best place for him right now. The safest place."
"Safe?" Sully replied. "Ethan nearly...nearly cost Byron his life, Michaela. As far as I'm concerned nobody's safe with him."
Michaela kissed the little boy's head again. "It could have just as easily happened at home. We're lucky we were here."
"What're ya talkin' about?" Sully said impatiently.
"Have you even stopped to think about it, Sully? You do realize if we had been at our cabin in Yosemite, if we hadn't been here near this hospital, Byron would have..."
"Byron would have been just as fine," Sully said. "His ma woulda taken good care of him."
"With what?" she questioned. "I didn't bring nearly enough of the right instruments for surgery like this. Conditions out there are less than sanitary. We don't even have running water. And what if something had gone wrong? In fact something did go wrong and thank goodness we were close to a hospital."
"You've handled things far worse than this before," he said, caressing her arm. "Michaela, that's what makes ya a good doctor. No matter what the conditions, ya can still do it."
"I don't know how I would dare operate under conditions like that," she said. "I only have two hands. If he had that seizure and started to shake like he did under my knife...even if you had helped hold him down, I don't know how things might have turned out."
"So we would've gotten some help," Sully replied simply. "We'd take him to Fresno."
"Sully, let's be honest. We wouldn't have made it half way there before it would be too late," she whispered, holding Byron to her tighter.
"So now this is somehow my fault?" he said, raising his voice. "Ethan's the one that didn't pay attention to him, probably shrugged him off if I know him, didn't take him to the hospital until the last minute. And this is my fault."
"That's my point," she replied. "It's no one's fault. The same thing could have happened had Byron been in the cabin with us. We can't predict things like this."
"I can't believe ya don't hold Ethan responsible," he said, his voice growing increasingly louder.
"Shh. Don't wake him," she scolded, smoothing back Byron's hair protectively. She paused, gently reaching over and grasping Sully's hand. "Let's not quarrel. We had a long night and we're exhausted."
He raised her hand up and gently kissed it. "I don't want Brian stayin' here, Michaela, the rest of the year or otherwise. I won't let it happen. Ethan's usin' Brian. I don't know what for, but he's up to somethin'." He nodded at the little boy. "When he's strong enough to travel, we're goin' back to Yosemite. And Brian's comin' with us."
"You can't keep someone where they don't want to be, Sully," Michaela spoke up quietly. She swallowed, lowering her eyes. "Talk to him about it first. Please? But when we're all rested. If you tell him you're making him go back with us, he's only going to resist you."
He nodded slowly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "You're right. We should talk it over."
* * *
"Lillian," she whispered, turning in her chair ever so slightly.
"I brought some flowers to brighten up the room. Lao-Tzu picked them from our garden," Lillian began uncomfortably, setting them on the night table. "How is he now? He looks so much better."
"Just a slight fever," Michaela said.
"Michaela...I'm so sorry," Lillian blurted, falling into tears. "I feel just terrible. I'd be completely to blame if something had happened to him."
Michaela stood up, moved by Lillian's emotions. "...Oh, it's all right," she reproached.
"You have such darling children," Lillian went on. "I was so looking forward to...to having them with me for a few days. And I wanted you to trust me."
"You did the right thing," Michaela reassured her, grasping her arm. "You brought him here to a hospital."
"But we should have brought him sooner. You must hate me. One of your sons is in the hospital and another wants to stay here with us."
"Staying here would be a good opportunity for Brian," Michaela said. "We just need to talk about it with him."
"Oh, Michaela. I don't know how you can be so understanding. Will you forgive me?"
"It's all right. I'm not angry." Michaela drew her into her arms and held her close. "Things like this happen. Sometimes Byron starts to grow short of breath but I don't even notice he's about to have an attack until it's already there. Besides, he tends to be quiet about things like that. He doesn't want to admit to anyone something might be wrong. You just can't see everything. It's impossible."
"Then we're still friends?" Lillian whispered.
"Of course," Michaela replied. "We're still friends." She pulled out her chair. "Sit with him. I know he'd like to see you. Perhaps he'll wake up."
Lillian sank into the chair and watched as Michaela gently rubbed the little boy's back, rousing him from sleep.
"Byron, sweetheart," Michaela whispered. "Look who came to visit you."
The little boy yawned softly, focusing on Lillian.
"Hello, Byron," Lillian began tenderly, leaning forward. "It's wonderful to see you're recovering so well."
"Hey, Miss Lillian," he said. He looked up at his mother. "Mama, Miss Lillian took me for a boat ride. The water tasted yucky."
"That's because it's salt water," Michaela said wryly. "You'll have to be careful it doesn't get into your mouth next time."
"Yeah. That was fun," he replied.
"It was? You had fun with us?" Lillian questioned. "But you were ill the entire time, darling."
"You made me good hot cocoa. Even better than Mama's," he said simply. "My tummy didn't hurt for a little bit then."
"Oh, you're a dear," Lillian murmured, cupping his cheeks in her hands and giving his brow a kiss. "You keep getting stronger, all right? You're going to be out of here in no time."
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