Westward Bound by Becky

Brian sat with Jack in front of the fireplace, helping him stack a set of blocks into small towers. The baby delighted in knocking down all their work and then watching Brian rebuild it, only to be destroyed again.

"I s'pose I would miss ya a lot, Jack," Brian said quietly as the baby sent another tower collapsing to the carpet with a fit of giggles. "I'd miss all three of ya."

Jack looked up at him expectantly, clutching a block in his hands and thrusting his arms up and down.

"Ya want me to build another?" Brian asked with a chuckle. "All right. But I know what you're up to. You're just gonna knock it down again." He began stacking another tower of blocks while Jack looked on patiently. He wondered how his mother was going to handle everything without him if he stayed behind in San Francisco. Just looking after Jack was enough work to keep anyone busy all day. Brian knew she would never make him feel obligated to stay in Yosemite because of the children, but he knew deep down she really needed his help. He supposed Mrs. Donovan could come lend a hand. They could even take turns looking after each other's kids. Just the same, his mother had grown to depend on him and would be hard pressed without him.

He let out a sigh, grasping one of the baby's soft little hands. "I don't know what to do, Jack."

Lao-Tzu cleared his throat and stepped into the sitting room. "Pardon me, sir. Miss Mollie is here to see you."

Brian leaped to his feet, frantically smoothing his hair and straightening his vest. "Thanks, Lao-Tzu. Show her in please."

Lao-Tzu spun around and disappeared, returning within a few seconds with Mollie.

"Brian, you won't believe this!" she immediately exclaimed, rushing to his side and unfolding a thick copy of the San Francisco Chronicle. "Your article! They published it!"

Brian took the paper from her. "They did?"

"So it's on the back page, but that doesn't matter," she went on excitedly. "The point is the San Francisco Chronicle thought it was good enough for their paper!"

Brian burst into a smile. "'The eagles of Yosemite Valley. Special to the Chronicle by Brian Cooper.' You're right. It's all here!"

Mollie threw her arms around him and gave his cheek a kiss. "I'm so proud of you. This is so wonderful. You must submit more!"

Brian reddened, slowly folding the paper and stepping back. "Mollie...we gotta talk."

She clasped her hands together, pressing them to her chin. "Oh, you'll have to forgive me. I haven't even asked about Byron. How is he?"

"B.? Ma and Pa are still at the hospital with him," Brian replied. "He's gettin' stronger. I usually go over every afternoon, see how he's doin'."

"That's good to hear. I plan to visit him tomorrow." She glanced at the clock on the mantel. "My, look at the time. I have an interview with the mayor's wife in fifteen minutes. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to run." She grasped his hand and gave his cheek another kiss. "I'll stop by again later. My goodness, you're a real reporter for the Chronicle now!" She gathered her skirts and hurried out of the sitting room, bidding Lao-Tzu farewell and thrusting open the front door.

Brian pressed his hand to his cheek, slowly catching his breath. He glanced down at Jack, who was staring up at him, his mouth agape.

"What you lookin' at?" Brian asked.

Jack gurgled and drew his hands into fists, pressing them to the carpet.

Brian chuckled, stooping down and lifting him into his arms. "Come on, Jack. Let's find Katie and get some supper."

* * *

Michaela dipped a spoon into a bowl of warm broth and held it to Byron's lips, smiling as he swallowed it with a loud slurp. "Good, sweetheart. Now have some more."

"I can feed myself now, Mama," Byron said.

"Are you sure?" Michaela questioned. "I want you to save your strength. I don't mind helping you."

Sully sat on the bed next to him and caressed his arm. "Everybody needs help sometimes."

"I can do it. I'm strong," he insisted, taking the spoon from his mother and swallowing another large mouthful of broth.

"Yes, you are," Michaela whispered, kissing his head lovingly.

Mollie knocked on the door and opened it, a small dish of vanilla ice-cream in her hands. "Good morning!" she said cheerfully.

"Mollie!" Michaela said, turning in her chair. "Byron, look who's here."

The young woman walked over to the bed and handed the dish to Michaela. "One of the nurses helped me steal this from the kitchen. I thought Byron might like it."

Byron handed the bowl of broth to his father and immediately dug his spoon into the ice-cream.

"Thank you, Mollie," Michaela said, chuckling as Byron put a huge spoonful of the treat into his mouth. "This is exactly what we needed right now."

"I'm so glad he's all right," she said, sitting at the end of the bed and patting her cousin's leg. "When Brian came and told me what happened I was simply sick with worry."

"He's gettin' better each day," Sully said, caressing the little boy's hair.

"Speaking of Brian, did he show you his article in the paper?" Mollie went on excitedly. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yes, we saw," Michaela replied. "We can't believe it."

"Oh, I can," she said decisively. "He's a gifted writer. It was only a matter of time before a major publication discovered him."

"Brian's real important to Yosemite, Mollie," Sully said. "He's got a way of puttin' into words what that land is all about."

"Yes, well, I'm going to have to be going," she said. "Brian's taking me out to lunch this afternoon and I need to change."

"Oh, really?" Michaela blurted. "That's wonderful!"

Mollie stood up. "I can't wait." She leaned over the bed and gave the little boy a kiss. "Byron, enjoy the rest of your ice-cream. You certainly deserve it."

Byron grinned as Michaela grabbed a handkerchief and wiped at a sticky trickle of melting ice-cream sliding down his chin.

"Goodbye, Mollie," Michaela said. "Enjoy yourselves at lunch."

"We will!" she called, scurrying out the door.

"They seem a little infatuated with each other," Michaela said, grinning at Sully.

"Don't know if that's such a good thing," he said, voice tense.

Michaela drew in her breath, taken aback. "Of course it is. What's the matter? What's wrong with Mollie?"

"Nothin'," Sully said quickly. "Just that she seems to be pretty sure of herself. They only just met."

"There's nothing wrong with a woman being sure of herself," Michaela retorted. "In fact I find it refreshing."

"Well, she's a Quinn. That's for sure," Sully muttered.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Michaela demanded. "Sully, she's perfect for Brian. They're both writers. They understand each other. She's well-mannered and a pleasure to be around. She didn't have to bring Byron ice-cream or give those blankets to the children. Or for that matter insist on buying that hat for me. And she certainly didn't have to come with us to see Lao-Tzu and Ming-Zhu. She's so thoughtful. She's grown into such a fine young lady."

"He's got a fine lady back at home."

"Apparently she and Brian don't exist anymore," Michaela said.

"I'd say we should let Brian decide that."

"You have to give people a chance, Sully," she told him. "Everyone deserves a chance. If you don't like Mollie just because she's from Boston I think that's entirely unfair."

"I didn't say that," Sully protested.

"Papa, why don't ya like Mollie?" Byron spoke up, mouth full with ice-cream.

"I like Mollie just fine," Sully said firmly. "Eat your ice-cream, Byron."

* * *

Sully slowly skimmed the small stack of papers the nurse at the front desk had handed him, drawing in his breath in disbelief. Between the cost of the operation and all that it entailed, having his own room, nurses watching him around the clock and bringing him three meals a day, Byron's hospital bill had thus far added up to more than two hundred dollars. Two hundred dollars Sully didn't have.

"Would you like to pay this now, sir?" the nurse asked impatiently. "Or later when you check out?"

"Later," Sully murmured, sauntering over to the waiting area and taking a seat near Brian.

"Ya all right, Pa?" Brian spoke up quietly, resting his hands on his knees. "Is that the bill?"

Sully folded the papers and slid them into his inside suit coat pocket. "It's a little more than I counted on."

"How we gonna pay it?" Brian asked quietly.

"We'll figure somethin' out."

Brian slowly drew in his breath. "Ya could ask Ethan for the money."

"No," Sully immediately replied. "I can take care of us, Brian. I can take care of all of us. We don't need anybody's help, least of all his."

"Why do ya hate him so much?" Brian questioned, voice unsteady. "Why can't ya get along with him?"

"I don't hate him, Brian."

"I'm thinkin' about stayin'. It's a good opportunity. Ethan's gonna take me travelin'. I'll see the world."

Sully struggled to keep himself even and composed "Why ya wanna do this? It never interested ya before."

"Ethan's never been like this before," Brian whispered. "It's like he finally...finally cares about me."

"I know that's all ya want, Brian. For him to treat ya like a father should. But ya already got a family. Your ma and me...we thought you were happy with us."

"Mollie was right," Brian said. "You're jealous."

"Maybe I am," Sully admitted softly. "But that ain't why I don't want ya stayin' here. I know he's up to no good. He never did a favor for anybody unless he could get somethin' out of it."

"Ya just don't want to give him a chance!" Brian said defensively.

Sully rose to his feet, pointing his finger at him. "Ethan used up all my chances ages ago, Brian."

"Ethan said you'd do this. He said ya'd try an' keep him from helpin' me, showin' me how much he cares about me."

"Brian, there's a lot of things your ma and I've kept from ya about him...we just never saw the need to tell ya...hurt ya. But maybe ya should know some of this before ya make this decision."

"What do you mean?" Brian asked hesitantly. "What things?"

Sully took a deep breath. "You remember when he came to Colorado, just before we got married? You know why he suddenly wanted to take you and Colleen back here with him?"

Brian swallowed hard, gazing up at him. "He wants to show me he loves me. He wants to make it up to me. And you won't let him 'cause you're jealous."

"Brian..." Sully went on reluctantly. "Brian, he wanted ya back because...because of Lillian's inheritance money, that's why. Her pa left his estate to any children Lillian and Ethan had. He don't have kids, he don't get his hands on a cent."

"He and Lillian could of had kids."

"Your ma says Lillian can't, won't ever will," Sully replied quietly. "...And that's why Ethan needed you and Colleen."

Brian stood up. "I don't believe you."

"It's the truth," Sully said firmly. "This ain't the place for ya, Brian. He ain't your pa."

"He is my pa!" Brian retorted.

Sully swallowed, the words stinging hard. "Is this about Mollie? Did ya forget already what ya got back at home?"

"What I got back at home ain't there anymore," Brian said, voice breaking.

"So make it right with her," Sully encouraged, gently laying his hand on his shoulder. "Don't give up on Sarah this easily."

"Ya don't like Mollie, either," Brian accused. "She's not like what ya think, Pa. She's different than any girl I ever met."

"You're smitten," Sully told him. "She's a nice-lookin' lady. But ya've only known her for a week. Ya don't know a thing about her."

"So I could stay here longer and get to know her better."

"Listen to me," Sully replied, gripping his shoulder. "I don't like the way Ethan's been askin' us about the park. You just listen to him talk. He wants to know everythin' about the place. He's been askin' ya about it, hasn't he?"

"Because he's interested in what I'm doin' there," Brian said.

"Cause he's interested in gettin' something out of it, maybe at our expense," Sully said firmly. "He could care less about protectin' the land, the animals. He's up to no good."

"This is my decision, not yours. I'm done talkin'. I'm gonna get back to the house now. I'll check on Katie and Jack."

"...I'm tellin' ya this cause I love ya, Brian," Sully murmured.

Brian swallowed hard and turned away without speaking, shutting the door after him firmly.

* * *

Sully knocked on Byron's door and stepped into the room, smiling as the little boy looked up at him. Michaela was sitting in the chair beside the bed, helping him assemble a simple puzzle of birds and butterflies.

"What ya got there?" Sully asked quietly, joining them at the bed.

"One of the nurses let us borrow it," Michaela said, looking up at him with a grin.

"I'm putting it together almost all by myself, Papa," Byron spoke up proudly, snapping a corner piece into place.

Sully caressed his head. "That's good. Ya keep workin' on that. I gotta talk to your ma for a minute, all right?" He took Michaela's hand and led her over to the doorway, pausing in his steps and turning to face her.

"You spoke with Brian?" she asked perceptively.

He swallowed hard, nodding.

"Oh, Sully," she murmured, drawing him into her arms and caressing his hair. "What happened?"

He rocked her softly, sighing. "It didn't go like I wanted."

"Oh, dear. You didn't tell him you're making him come with us, did you?"

He shook his head. "No, but...the inheritance money. It came up."

She pulled back, searching his face. "No. Tell me you didn't tell him about that."

"I didn't want to. But I had no choice."

"You had no choice?" she blurted, stepping back. "We agreed we would keep that private for the children's sake. So they wouldn't be hurt, Sully!"

"He didn't believe me anyway," he said weakly, dropping his arms at his sides. "He's convinced Ethan wants the best for him, nothin' less."

"Well, perhaps he has changed," she said softly. "And perhaps you can't accept that. Brian's looked up to you for so long. Seeing him admiring Ethan now must be difficult."

"That ain't it," he said quickly. "I just don't trust him."

"And perhaps that's blinded you from seeing that Ethan is just trying to repair relations with Brian the only way he knows how. Sully, now he knows about the inheritance and at what cost? I'd rather be apart from him for a little while than hurt him like that."

"Ya think I wanted to hurt him?" he retorted. "But I know Ethan. We let Brian stay here a few months, those few months'll turn into a few years and before we know it, we'll never see him again. If I have to, Michaela...I'll forbid him to stay."

"In the process ruining the years the two of you spent together building your relationship. He's only going to grow more defensive of Ethan and more resentful of you."

"That's a risk we gotta take."

"You take it. But I won't," she said, turning around to step back into the room.

"Michaela, wait," he murmured, grabbing her arm. "There's another thing."

"What?" she asked impatiently.

He nodded at Byron. "How soon can we have him out of here?"

"I don't know," she said. "I'd prefer at least a few more days. He's still quite weak."

"But what's the soonest?" he asked.

"Well, I suppose by tomorrow if we had to. But I'd rather he stay here longer, Sully. Just to be sure."

"The hospital bill," he whispered. "As of right now...two hundred dollars."

She drew in her breath, stunned. "Two hundred?"

"Is it safe to take him out tomorrow? If it ain't safe...we'll stay. We'll work it out."

She glanced back at their little boy. "...I'll have him ready tomorrow."

"Good," he replied softly. "We're goin' home."

* * *

"Brian? Is that you out here?" Ethan called, opening the screen door and stepping out onto the porch.

Brian sat on the top step, chin resting on his hands as he gazed out at the sun sinking over the ocean.

"You hardly touched your supper tonight," Ethan remarked. "What's wrong? Why so down in the mouth?"

"Ethan, you know B.'s checkin' out of the hospital tomorrow. They're goin' home. And I still don't know what I'm gonna do."

Ethan crossed his arms, slowly taking a seat beside him. "If I had known asking you to stay here would cause you such turmoil, I wouldn't have brought it up."

"No, I'm glad ya did," Brian replied. "It's...it's the nicest thing ya ever done for me."

Ethan gently laid his hand on his back. "Well, I just thought you'd like it here, that's all. Your stepmother and I want to give you every opportunity." He stroked his chin pensively. "But you know, Brian, I've been thinking. Perhaps going back to Yosemite wouldn't be so bad after all. You could write me about all the happenings. Keep me informed of any changes?"

Brian swallowed hard. "It's cause of me ya wanna know about Yosemite, ain't it? Ya just wanna know what it's like there for me."

"Of course," he replied, patting his back. "Why else would I ask?"

Brian smiled. "Yeah."

"You don't seem ready to make this decision just yet," Ethan replied. "You go back with them tomorrow. Then if you'd like to return here, just let me know. I'll have you on the first stage out of there."

Brian nodded. "...Thanks, Ethan."

"You write me now," Ethan said, awkwardly putting his arm around him and drawing him close. "Every week. Tell me all about what you're up to."

"I will," Brian said. He rose to his feet, brushing off his vest. "I guess this means I gotta talk to Mollie. Tell her I ain't stayin'. At least not yet."

"The poor girl is head over heels for you," Ethan murmured. "You're a Cooper. It was bound to happen." He stood up, patting his back. "Let her down easy, son. She's going to be crushed."

* * *

Brian paced in front of the boarding house, hardly noticing the steady rain soaking through his jacket and dampening his hair. He knew Mollie went out to supper nearly every night. It hadn't surprised him that she hadn't been home. He decided he would wait for her until she got back, despite the weather. She had to know he was leaving in the morning.

Finally, Mollie sauntered up to the boarding house behind a chorus of other young men and women, all chattering and laughing. Her face brightened with surprise as she spotted Brian.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted, holding her umbrella over him. "Oh, Brian, you came to see me. That's so sweet of you." She grabbed his hand, leading him up to the front door.

"Mollie...wait," Brian said hoarsely.

"Come up to my room and get out of this rain," she instructed, retracting her umbrella and placing it in a tall tin storage bin inside the lobby. She led him up a wide staircase and down a hall filled with several well-dressed young men and women coming and going. At last, she stopped in front of a door and unlocked it, pulling him close to her.

"I knew you'd come," she murmured, dropping her purse to the floor and pressing her lips to his.

Brian slowly pulled back, holding up his hand. "Mollie-"

"What's wrong?" she asked, caressing his cheek.

"Mollie, we ain't known each other that long," he said weakly.

"I know I love you," she whispered, raising her hands to caress his chest.

Brian stepped back firmly. "Ya don't love me," he protested. "We ain't had enough time to know that yet."

"What are you saying?" she demanded. "I'm a grown woman. I think I know how I feel, Brian, and I don't need anyone to tell me."

Brian picked up a newspaper resting on the table beside the door. "Maybe you know, but I don't know how I feel. I'm gonna go back tomorrow. Back to Yosemite."

"No," she murmured tearfully.

He gestured at the newspaper. "After I saw my article about the eagles printed in here...I knew I should go back and write more about the place. I ain't ready to make a decision about stayin' here yet. I gotta give myself some more time to think about it. Look, let's sit down," he said, leading her over to the set of table and chairs at one end of her room.

"Is it because I'm older than you?" she began hesitatingly. "I know it's not very conventional, but I don't care."

"No, it ain't that. It's got nothin' to do with you. Honest. I just... I need some time to think about things. In the meantime, are we still friends?"

She nodded. "Yes. I certainly don't want to spoil our friendship."

He gave the back of her hand a sweet kiss. "Maybe I'll come back in a little while. You can show me more of the city and we'll have a real good time. And I meant what I said. I want ya to come out and visit us, too."

"I'd like that," she whispered, smiling softly.

"Will ya see us off tomorrow?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes. I'll be there," she replied, pressing his hand to her cheek.

* * *

Sully carefully counted out a small stack of bills and laid them on the counter as the nurse behind the desk looked on, arms crossed.

"That's all I can do right now," he said, pushing the money in her direction. "The rest I'm gonna have to send in payments."

"This is not how we usually conduct things here, sir," she said, speedily counting the bills and making some calculations with her pencil.

"I know," Sully replied. "But I'll pay this bill soon as I can. Ya have my word."

"Can you manage fifty dollars a month?" she asked impatiently. "That should pay off everything by January."

He hesitated, scratching his chin. "How's thirty sound?"

She sighed. "Fine. Thirty it is," she said, handing him a form. "This is a binding contract. Sign at the bottom please. In the future, I suggest you find a physician you can afford," she added curtly. "There are plenty down toward Chinatown that take your type and everybody else for a few chickens...or dogs in return."

Sully handed the form back to her. "Thank you for goin' out of your way like this, ma'am. Ya've been too kind," he said, turning away from the desk and opening the door to the hallway. He made the long walk and the several turns to Byron's room, finally arriving at his door.

Byron was sitting up in bed, buttoning his shirt as Michaela combed his hair. Katie sat with the baby at the end of the bed, tickling him and keeping him entertained while they waited. Michaela had everyone in coats and had their luggage stacked by the door, ready for when they would leave.

"Ya all set?" Sully asked, finding his jacket laid across a hatbox and slipping into it.

"Almost," Michaela replied, setting the comb on the table and standing up. "Will they let us make payments?"

"It's taken care of," he murmured. "For now."

She gently clasped his hand. "We'll find a way, Sully. Somehow."

He kissed her cheek. "The point is he's better now. Don't worry about anything else." He walked to the bed and pulled back the covers, lifting Byron into his arms and cradling him against his chest. "Ya look ready to be out of here, son."

"I wanna go home now, Papa," he said, resting his head tiredly against his father's shirt.

"Me, too," Sully murmured as Michaela covered Byron with a blanket and put his stuffed puppy in his hands. He swallowed hard, glancing at Michaela. "...Is Brian gonna see us off?"

"No, I ain't," Brian spoke up, appearing in the doorway. He added his carpetbag to their stack of luggage and removed his leather gloves. "I'm gonna come back with ya. I already said my goodbyes to Ethan and Miss Lillian."

Michaela hurried to his side and held him tight. "Oh, Brian. You can stay if you want to. You don't have to do this."

He clasped her arm, pulling back. "Stage is gonna leave soon. We best get down there."

Michaela nodded, returning to the bed, picking up Jack and taking Katie's hand.

"I'll bring the luggage down, Ma," Brian said. "Mollie's waitin' in the lobby to say goodbye."

"Thank you. We'll be with her," she replied, leading Katie out the door.

Brian gently clasped his little brother's hand. "How ya doin', B.? Ya look almost as good as new."

"I'm glad you're coming back home, Brian," Byron whispered, clutching his puppy to his chest. "I want ya to play with me when we get there. And read me a story."

Brian smiled. "Sure I will. I'm glad you're better."

Sully awkwardly laid his hand on his shoulder. "Brian, you're doin' the right thing, comin' with us."

Brian stepped back from his touch, picking up a hatbox and two carpetbags. "I'm doin' this 'cause I gotta keep writin'," he whispered. "Don't think I believe what ya told me. Ya made it up just to keep me from stayin'."

Sully swallowed hard, stunned.

"This is only temporary. I need more time to think," Brian added. "...Ethan says I can still come back here whenever I want. And I just might."

Chapter Seventeen

"These are your basic tools," Sully explained to the circle of men as Thaddeus handed out equipment from a wheelbarrow. "Sledges, wedges, your drills, shovels and pick axes." He strolled over to a table and picked up a thin wooden cylinder. "This is what a stick of dynamite looks like. Ya'll fill it up with blasting powder and slide it in the holes ya drill. Then light the fuse. They'll be a set schedule of blasting times so everybody knows when to keep away. Ya shout 'fire in the hole' every time ya light your fuse for anybody that don't clear out. That way, we won't have any accidents."

"Mr. Sully!" Galen called, walking briskly up to the table. Harper followed quick behind him. "How's the instruction going?"

Sully glanced at the attentive circle of men. "Real well."

"Good. When can we start blasting?" he asked.

Sully picked up an ax and put it over his shoulder. "I was just about to take them out and show 'em how it's done."

"Good, good," Galen replied, slapping him on the back. "I knew you'd be on top of this. So, you're back from San Francisco. How was it? I heard your boy was ill. You ended up staying a few extra days."

"He's doin' a lot better now," Sully said.

"Oh, wonderful," Galen said. "I was worried." He gazed out at the men. "How is everyone this morning? Ready to learn how to work blasting powder?"

Silas stepped forward, a clipboard tucked under his arm and a pencil in hand. "Doin' fine, Mr. Clark. How're you? Can we bring ya anythin'? Some water?"

"No, I'm fine, Silas," Galen said, taking the clipboard for him. "Harper says you took over for Sully while he was gone. I trust you did as good a job."

Silas eyed Sully, eyes narrowed. "I tried to live up to Sully's high standards, sir."

"Well, I'm glad we have someone we can really count on when he's not here," Galen replied, handing Sully the clipboard. "You're back in charge now, Sully. I'm sure you'll pick up right where you left off."

Sully nodded, placing the clipboard on the table. "Let's head out to the moraine. Best way to learn is to get some practical experience."

* * *

The last lunch dish was clean, dry and stacked away when Michaela sat down at the table, letting out a relieved sigh. Mentally, she crossed off the task on the list in her mind. There were still various chores to be done, including getting started on letting down all of Byron's trousers an inch, she thought as she glanced across the room at the child's pant cuffs, the stockings peeking out. Still, at least she had seen one task all the way through.

The children were gathered on a blanket, hovering over the baby with some stuffed animals, a rattle and a few other toys. Jack loved lying on his back, looking up at his siblings as they fussed and cooed over him. The older children seemed to enjoy keeping him occupied just as much. With a smile, Michaela pulled her sewing basket towards her and began looking through it for scissors and thread for the trousers.

"Oh, no, Mama!" Byron called.

"What's wrong?" Michaela asked, setting a spool of brown thread she had selected on the table.

"Jack needs a hankie! Quick!" Katie said, covering her mouth and giggling.

"Oh," Michaela replied wryly, standing up and hurrying over to the group. Brian stood up and picked up Jack as Michaela found her handkerchief.

"For such a little nose, he sure makes a big mess," Brian said, grinning.

Michaela wiped the baby's face clean, planting a kiss on his brow once she was finished. "There we are, sweetheart. All ready to go back to your sister and brothers?"

"I think maybe you'd better play with him now, Mama," Byron said, standing up and eyeing the baby hesitantly. "We gotta...um, go feed my sparrow."

"Oh, I see," Michaela replied teasingly. "You only want him until he gets dirty. Then you turn him over to me!"

"Sorry, Mama," Katie said. "The sparrow is real hungry!"

"All right," she said good-humoredly. "Go feed your bird."

"Luke! Jim!" Byron exclaimed, glancing out the window. "They're here to play!"

"Can they help feed it, too?" Katie asked.

"Yes, of course," Michaela said, opening the door for the children as the two boys sauntered across their yard, waving in greeting.

Luke stepped up onto the porch and handed Michaela the Arabian Nights book, face somber.

"Oh, good. Did you finish?" Michaela asked. "How did you like it?"

"We didn't get to read it through, ma'am," Luke said. "Ma saw it and said as soon as you got home from San Franie to bring it back to ya. And that we aren't to touch your books again or she'll take a switch to us and wallop us good."

"Oh, dear. But we don't mind you borrowing them," Michaela replied. "We have plenty to share."

"Ma says Allah and all that is the devil and she don't want it in the house," Jim spoke up somberly.

"What? It's not the devil," Brian protested. "It's a good story if ya read it."

Luke stepped forward. "Do you think maybe we could...maybe come over and read it here? We never found out what happened. Ma didn't exactly say we couldn't read it. She just said she didn't want it in the house."

Michaela hesitated for a long moment. She was torn between doing all she could to help the boys learn, and respecting Carrie's wishes that they have nothing to do with books. She needed more time to think about how to handle the situation. "Why don't you try talking to your mother again for now," Michaela suggested. "Perhaps she'll change her mind."

"I guess," Luke muttered. "Well, can Katie and Byron play now?"

"They may," Michaela said. "Just try not to bring anyone back with another bloody nose, all right?"

"We won't, ma'am," Jim said with a grin.

"Come on," Byron said, gesturing at Luke and Jim to follow him to the shed. "See how big the bird's getting!"

* * *

Jim held a squirming worm above the sparrow and dropped it into its gaping mouth. "There ya are. Nice fresh worms."

"He's about full grown now," Luke remarked, stroking the little bird's head with one finger as the children gathered around it in the shed. "Ya did a good job takin' care of him, Byron."

"You took good care of him for me when we went to San Frisco," Byron said. "Thanks"

"Oh, no trouble," Luke said. "Say, I heard some doctors cut ya open out there like they was regular butchers."

"Yeah!" Byron replied. "Wanna see?"

Luke and Jim's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Yeah, let's see!" Luke exclaimed.

Byron pulled the tails of his shirt from his trousers to reveal the pink, healing incision across his lower right abdomen.

"Whoa!" Jim cried. "That's a pretty great scar! Did ya really almost die?"

"Yep," Byron said proudly. "And I got to sleep overnight in a hospital and some nice nurses gave me toys and ice-cream."

"Ice-cream! Gee, I want an operation," Jim replied. "It sounds like fun."

"Look at this, bird. I got an operation when I was gone," Byron said, pointing to his scar.

"Hey, do ya have a name for your bird?" Jim asked curiously.

"Papa said we shouldn't name it," Katie spoke up, crouching beside the little wooden box her brothers had made for the bird. "It's not a pet."

"Oh, you can name it. It won't do any harm," Luke said. "How about Prince? Like the princes in Arabian Nights."

"Prince!" Katie said with a giggle.

"He likes his new name," Byron said, picking up another worm and setting it in the bird's mouth.

"Hey, what the heck are these?" Luke asked, removing an oar from a hook Brian had nailed into the wall of the tiny shed.

"That's for our boat," Katie explained. "Papa builded it. We go on picnics."

"You have a boat?" Luke exclaimed, face brightening. "Why didn't ya tell us?"

"We're only allowed when Mama and Papa are there," Byron said timidly.

"We can play pirates!" Luke said, taking down the other oar. "Well, where is it? Show us."

"It's tied to the tree at the lake," Byron said.

"I don't know," Katie said reluctantly. "Mama says no goin' near the lake."

"She does always say she don't want us near the water, Luke," Jim added.

Luke waved his hand. "Aw, she's just afraid we might fall in. But we won't. I won't let us. What are we waitin' for? Let's go!"

"All right! I get to paddle!" Jim said, bursting out of the shed and running down to the shoreline, the children following him.

Luke pushed back the canvas draped over the boat and tossed it to the ground. "It's huge!" he shouted, throwing the oars inside. "Like a real pirate ship! Jim, help me push it into the water."

"Wait," Byron spoke up. "I think Mama might be mad."

"Your ma didn't say nothin' about not goin' near no boats," Luke said simply, walking over to the tree and untying the rope. "'Sides, she's never gonna know. Lest you open your hole and tell."

"Yeah. Little kids always snitch," Jim added.

"I won't tell," Byron said quickly, eager to please the older boys. "I promise."

"Well, then climb in," Luke encouraged, gesturing with one hand.

Awkwardly, Byron hoisted himself over the edge of the boat and took a seat at the stern.

"Come on, Katie. You can be the princess," Luke said, giving her a hand into the boat. He removed his bandana from his neck and tied it around his forehead. "Quick, get in! Ho, there! This land we're standing on is really a fish and it's gonna eat us!"

"Leave your things behind!" Jim added, crawling into the boat and picking up the oars. "This island will soon sink and we'll all be doomed!"

"Where we gonna go?" Byron asked, his imagination immediately piqued.

Luke balanced himself on his feet and pointed out toward the water. "To those mountains! Row harder, man!"

"I'm tryin'," Jim shouted, pretending to struggle with the oars. "There's a giant fish biting my paddle!"

"There is?" Katie gasped, hugging herself. "Oh, no!"

"I'll get it with my slingshot!" Byron spoke up, pulling back an imaginary elastic and letting it go. "Bang! Got it!"

"Phew! We're safe!" Luke breathed, sinking into the seat next to Byron. "All right, Captain. Row on!"

* * *

The end of his pencil pressed to his chin, Brian poured over a map in his history book. Michaela sat beside him with a lantern and Byron's trousers, carefully making the necessary adjustments with pins and pausing every so often to glance at the baby, seated in front of the fire with his toys. Jack had started to get into everything lately and she could never take her eyes off him for long.

"You've been reading that book all day, Brian," she remarked, briefly looking up.

He shrugged. "I got a little behind when we were in San Francisco. I wanna catch up."

She folded the trousers and blew out the lamp. "Let's take a break for a few minutes. We can invite Jim and Luke inside for milk and cookies. Your book will still be here when we're finished."

He smiled, closing it and sliding it to the middle of the table. "All right, Ma. I guess a break won't hurt. Want me to go call everybody in?"

She rose from the table and walked over to the shelves, taking down some glasses. "Yes, thank you."

"I'll be right back," he said, jogging out the door.

Michaela put away her sewing basket, placed the cookie jar and a pitcher of milk on the table, then picked up Jack and settled him into his highchair, opening the jar and putting one of the cookies on his tray.

"Mama only burned some of them this time, Jack," Michaela said, breaking off a bite-sized portion of the cookie and putting it in his hand. "I think I'm finally getting the hang of our oven."

The baby giggled and shoved the piece of cookie into his mouth, looking up at her with animated eyes as he chewed.

"Oh, sweetheart. You like it!" Michaela exclaimed, breaking off another piece for him. "At least someone appreciates my cooking."

"Ma?" Brian said quietly, standing in the doorway.

She looked up. "Where are the children?"

"I think ya'd better come out here."

"What are they up to now? Don't tell me someone has a bloody nose again."

"They got into the boat somehow. They're out rowin' on the lake," he said hesitantly.

"They're what?" she exclaimed, eyes widening. "Oh, no. Watch Jack for me, all right?" She rushed outside and down to the shoreline, shielding her eyes from the sun and peering out at the water.

Sure enough, their little boat was a few hundred yards out on the lake, all four of the children inside and laughing.

"Katie! Byron!" she shouted frantically.

"...Uh-oh," Katie murmured forlornly.

"Ho, there, Miz Sully!" Luke called, standing up and waving. "Nice pirate ship ya have here!"

"Luke! Bring them back this instant!" Michaela called back firmly. "Hurry!"

Jim picked up the oars and put them back in their cradles, digging them into the water and rowing the boat back toward shore.

Michaela waited impatiently at the edge of the water, grabbing the rope from Luke as the boat approached and tying it back to the tree.

"Mama, we were pirates!" Byron said excitedly. "I even got to be the captain for a little bit."

Michaela lifted him over the edge, brow fixed as she grabbed his arms. "Byron, what on earth were you thinking? How many times have I told you not to go near the water?" She gave Katie a hand down, eyeing her sternly. "Katie? What do you have to say for yourself? Neither of you can swim very well just yet. Just what did you think you were going to do if you fell overboard?"

Luke jumped out of the boat. "I woulda gone in after 'em, ma'am. I'm a good swimmer."

"Luke! What ever possessed you?" Michaela demanded. "You heard me when I said don't go near the water, didn't you?"

Luke swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Miz Sully. We just thought it would be...fun, I guess."

"You could have asked us," she said, drawing the younger children to her side. "We'd be happy to take you for a boat ride sometime. But when Byron and Katie's father and I are here."

"Are ya gonna give us a lickin'?" Jim asked quietly, stepping out of the boat.

Michaela softened. "A licking? Oh, of course not, Jim. But I am taking you home to your mother right now and we're going to tell her what happened."

"I better get back to feeding my bird," Byron spoke up, stepping away.

Michaela grabbed his hand, pulling him back. "No. I want you and Katie to go straight inside, sit on your cots and wait for me to get back. We'll discuss your punishment later."

* * *

Michaela led Jim and Luke up to their front yard, her arms around them. Carrie was outside at the stump, splitting a log with a small ax.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Sully," she said, resting the ax on the stump and swiping her hand across her brow. "Somethin' the matter?"

"We have a small problem," Michaela began.

"What did you two do now?" Carrie said with a sigh, eyeing the children.

"They untied our rowboat, put Byron and Katie inside and took them out on the lake," Michaela began. "And after I told all four of them countless times I don't want them going near there. I'm very disappointed in all of them as I know you must be as well."

"We're sorry, Ma," Jim said quietly. "We was just playin'."

"You boys go on and get a start on your chores," Carrie instructed. "Go on! Make yourselves scarce!"

"Yes, ma'am," Luke said quickly, scurrying up onto their stoop and through the doorway, Jim following him.

"You're going to have a stern talk with them I'm sure," Michaela said hesitantly. "Carrie, this is very serious. Do you realize what could have happened?"

"They'll get their thrashin' when their pa comes home," she said simply, picking up her ax and another log.

"And what good will that do?" she demanded. "I think Jim and Luke would do well to have you sit down with them, talk with them about what happened and explain why what they did was wrong. If that boat had tipped over all four of them could have drowned."

"Oh, my youn'uns are strong swimmers," Carrie replied. "I wouldn't worry about that."

"Mine aren't," Michaela said testily. "They're just learning. That's exactly why I didn't want them going near the lake unsupervised. I don't know how I could have made myself any clearer to Jim and Luke."

"Well, boys will be boys," Carrie said with a chuckle, raising her ax and splitting the log.

"Boys will be boys?" Michaela blurted.

"Yes," Carrie replied sternly, tossing the pieces of kindling onto a pile. "They're curious, they get into things. It's the way God made 'em."

"That's not the way my boys are. My boys and my daughter as well for that matter know that when I say no, that means no."

"Well, seems they forgot that when they got in the boat with Jim and Luke," Carrie retorted. "Looks like it's your youn'uns that need a talkin' to. Good day, Mrs. Sully."

"Good day, Mrs. Donovan," Michaela replied tensely, spinning around and walking briskly back to the path.

* * *

"Boys will be boys. That's what she told me, Sully," Michaela said, pacing restlessly from one end of the shed to another.

Sully glanced up from his stool where he was slowly running his knife down a thick slab of wood.

She paused in her steps, turning to face him. "You don't truly believe that, do you? That boys should be excused from behaving because it's in their nature?"

"I think everybody's gotta follow the rules," he said, gazing at the piece of wood. "But Jim and Luke belong to Carrie. How she raises them is up to her."

"When they're at our cabin, they'll follow our rules," Michaela said resolutely. "I don't care whom they belong to."

"You'll have to keep a better eye on them next time."

She dropped her hands at her sides, frustrated. "And how am I supposed to do that? There's chores to be done and the baby to be fed and looked after. I can't keep up with everyone, Sully. I'm quite close to telling Byron and Katie they aren't to see those children again."

"Don't do that," he replied. "Michaela, it was one mistake. Katie and Byron were hangin' their heads all evenin'. They feel real sorry. Jim and Luke probably feel the same. All those kids have are each other. It's gonna be a long winter if they can't even play together anymore."

She sighed, stepping towards him. "I suppose. I don't think Byron and Katie should go unpunished, however. I think we should separate them from Jim and Luke while they think about what they've done."

"How about a week?" Sully suggested. "They can't play with the Donovans for a week. That should be plenty enough time for them to see actin' up ain't a good idea."

"I hope so. I want this to stop right here before someone gets hurt."

"They're good kids, Michaela. All four of them," Sully replied. "None of 'em wants to disappoint us. They won't do this again." He chuckled, putting the wood on the table as he gazed at her.

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded irritably. "I don't find anything about this funny."

He drew her to him, sitting her on his knee and wrapping his arm around her waist. "Boys will be boys, huh? I can just picture your face when she said that."

She grinned softly. "Well, I'm glad you're amused." She nodded at the wood. "What are you making?"

He gently rubbed her back. "I don't know. Just tryin' to think of ideas, I guess. For Christmas presents for all of us."

"Yes, we have to start thinking about that."

"I was thinkin' you and me could've ridden out to Fresno, gone to the mercantile and picked out some nice things for the kids. Now with this hospital bill to pay off, most of my pay has to go to that. I wanted things to be different this year."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Byron's fine now. That's all I care about," he said. "But I just wanted to pick out somethin' special for him, that's all. Now all it looks like he'll be gettin' is another carved animal."

"The children don't care about store-bought gifts," Michaela said, caressing his hand. "And neither do I. You don't have to get me anything. I just want us to be together on Christmas."

He held her closer, caressing her lips with his for several seconds. Finally, he drew back, letting out a small breath as he gazed into her eyes. "I love ya."

She smiled softly, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him comfortingly. "We'll make Christmas nice for them, Sully. We'll find a way."

* * *

The children were gathered around the table, each reading lessons from their own books, as Michaela fed the baby his bottle with one hand and tried to grade a stack of papers with the other. The lesson plans Teresa had given her had run out and now she was forced to come up with things for the children to study without Teresa's guidance. She had few ideas for what to do with them save sit them down with their books. She knew her lessons were unimaginative and not very exciting, but she simply couldn't find the time to come up with anything better. She could see the children were beginning to dread joining her at the table each morning just as much as she dreaded calling them over.

Katie turned her book toward her mother with a wide smile. "Mama, look at this picture!"

Michaela rested her pen on the table and glanced at the sketch in Katie's reader. "That's an elephant."

"El-phant," Katie repeated, turning the book back toward her and gazing at the sketch curiously.

"They live in Asia and Africa," Brian told her. "They're as tall as two men."

Byron shifted down toward his sister on the bench. "Let me see, Katie."

"No. I'm looking at it," she said, drawing the book close to her.

"Let me see," he begged. "Come on. Mama, she won't let me see."

"That's Katie's book, Byron," Michaela said. "You can have a turn with it when she's finished."

"No, I wanna see it now," he protested, grabbing one end of the book.

"No!" Katie shouted. "I'm looking at it, Byron! Mama, make him stop!"

"You gotta share," Byron said angrily. "Let me have a turn!" He slapped her hand firmly. "Gimme!"

"Hey!" Katie cried, clutching her hand to her chest as tears of shock stung her eyes.

"Byron! What did you just do?" Michaela exclaimed, standing up and handing the baby to Brian.

"He hit me!" Katie replied. "He hit hard!"

Michaela circled the table and grabbed the little boy firmly by the arm, turning him to face her. "Byron, you know we never hit. Where did you learn to do that? Tell Katie you're sorry this instant."

"But Luke hits Jim," Byron said. "He taught me how."

"Luke taught you how? Luke taught you to hit?" she demanded.

He nodded. "He taught me boxing. He even let me take a turn. I did good, Mama. I got Jim in the nose."

Brian's eyes widened. "It was you that gave Jim that bloody nose?"

Byron nodded. "Yep."

Brian patted him on the back proudly. "Nice goin', B.! I didn't know ya had it in ya!"

"Brian," Michaela scolded. "Don't encourage this."

Brian cleared his throat. "I mean, ya could have really hurt him, B."

Michaela sat down on the bench. "Byron, how many times has Mama said we must never hit one another? Have you forgotten everything I've told you?"

"They called me a sissy," he said, lip quivering.

"Oh, sweetheart," Michaela murmured. "It hurts when people call us names. But hitting is not the way to prove you're a man. Do you see Papa hitting anyone?"

"Yeah," Byron replied simply. "He got a bloody lip."

Michaela swallowed, wrapping her arm around him. "...Well, yes. Once. But that was self defense."

"What's self defense?" Byron asked.

Michaela sighed. "Jim and Luke may get away with hitting each other, but as long as I'm your mother, you are never to strike anyone for any reason, especially your sister. Apologize to her."

Byron reluctantly faced the little girl, eyes filled with guilt. "Sorry."

"I'm almost done," Katie said quietly. "You can look at it then."

"Thanks," he muttered.

"When your father gets home, I want you to tell him what happened," Michaela added, returning to her seat and taking Jack back from Brian.

Byron drew in his breath, facing falling. "But, Mama-"

"Or I could tell him if you'd prefer," Michaela went on, patting the baby's back.

Byron shook his head. "No! I'll tell him."

* * *

Sully opened the cabin door and slipped out of his jacket, hanging it on the row of hooks inside. Michaela turned from the fireplace, where she had been stirring gravy in the kettle, and instantly smiled.

"You're home just in time for supper, Sully," she said cheerfully.

Byron and Katie looked up from their seat on the floor beside Jack and ran to their father, hugging his waist.

Wearily, Sully smoothed back their hair. "Hey, kids." He walked over to the table and set a small envelope in front of Brian. "From Ethan."

Brian glanced at the envelope, avoiding Sully's eyes. He took it from him and stood up, walking over to his cot to read the letter inside. Since their trip to San Francisco, a letter came from Ethan on nearly every shipment of mail. Brian couldn't help but feel glad about it. Every letter was something more to prove to Sully he was wrong about Ethan. Every letter convinced Brian even more Ethan truly had changed. This time, he truly did care about him.

Sully watched the young man walk away, then sank into a chair and removed his muddy boots, dropping them in an untidy pile beside him.

Michaela picked up Jack and joined everyone at the table, eyeing Sully worriedly. "Is something wrong? You seem tired."

"Just a long day," he said, taking Jack from her and settling him in his lap. "But everything went good. We've got half the moraine dynamited away. Won't be long before the job's done."

"I hope you're being careful," she said restlessly. "I worry about you handling those explosives all day."

"Ya got nothin' to worry about. We're bein' smart about it." He turned to the younger children. "You two have a good day?"

Katie sighed. "We wanted to go over and play with Jim and Luke at their fort. Mama said no."

Sully glanced at Michaela. "You're still bein' punished, Kates, you know that. Ya just got a few more days, that's all. You'll make it."

Michaela nudged Byron towards his father. "I think Byron has something he wants to tell you, Sully."

"I did good in school today, Papa," Byron said quickly. "I only got a couple wrong on my adding and minuses."

Sully smiled, rubbing the baby's back. "That's good."

"That's not all he has to say," Michaela prompted. "Go on, Byron."

Byron stuck his hands in his pockets. "I wanted Katie's book. She wouldn't share."

"And?" Michaela encouraged.

"And so I hit her," he said quietly. "On her hand."

"It hurt," Katie added matter-of-factly.

"It hurt," Byron repeated guiltily.

Michaela sighed. "He said Luke was teaching him how to box and that's where he learned to do that."

"Hurtin' people ain't the way to get what ya want, Byron," Sully said. "Did ya tell Katie you're sorry?"

"Yeah," Byron said timidly.

"Good," Sully murmured. "What ya got cookin' for supper, Michaela?"

Taken aback, Michaela put Jack on his blanket in front of the fire and led Katie and Byron over to him. "Keep playing with the baby for me, all right?" She returned to the table, attempting to keep her voice low. "Is that all? Aren't we going to discipline him?"

"Thought we already were," he replied, slowly raising his hands from his lap and resting them on the table. "We already said they couldn't see those boys for a week."

"Byron never did this before, Sully," she said. "Do you know when Jim came to us with a bloody nose, it was Byron that did that to him?"

"It was?" he replied, eyes widening. "That was Byron?" A proud smile escaped his lips.

"I wish you would take this seriously," she said, sinking into the bench beside him. "Byron does whatever Luke tells him to without giving it a second thought. He goes along with everything."

Sully shrugged. "He wants to fit in, Michaela. Jim and Luke don't have to let somebody his age tag along with them. He just looks up to 'em, that's all."

"He has two perfectly decent men to look up to living in this house," Michaela said testily. "I don't know what he needs with them."

He carefully turned his hands over to allow air to reach his tender palms. A fiery swelling marked the bases of his fingers and thumbs. "We can talk about this later. Right now I just wanna have some supper and then get to bed."

She peered at his palms, drawing in her breath. "Oh, Sully. Your hands." She gently grasped his left hand in hers, drawing it towards her. "What happened?"

He made a weak attempt to pull his hand away. "It's nothin' I ain't used to. I was workin' with a pick ax all afternoon. I shoulda found some gloves."

"You were bleeding," she remarked. "Let me clean them for you. We don't want infection to set in."

"Later," he told her. "Let's have supper."

She gently released his hand to the table, swallowing. "All right. It'll just be a few more minutes."

He grasped her blouse sleeve, drawing her to him. "I forgot somethin'."

"What's that?"

"I didn't kiss ya when I came in, did I?" he murmured, pressing his lips lovingly to hers. "How was your day?"

She smiled, tenderly grasping his wrist. "It was fine. I'm just glad you're home now, Sully."

Chapter Eighteen

Michaela gave Katie and Byron a hand up onto the table as Brian moved the bench back. The table was cluttered with a few medical textbooks Michaela had brought from the clinic, open to various marked pages. Helping the children master their subjects was often hard work, but today when Michaela began the anatomy lesson, everything had fallen into place. The children were rapidly absorbing everything she said, asking questions and encouraging her to continue. Michaela was enjoying herself as well. It was wonderful to see their faces light up with excitement and intrigue, expressions she had no doubt displayed when her father first studied his medical charts and books with her.

Michaela walked over to the door and lifted the latch, swinging it open and closed a few times. "Your elbows and your knees are hinge joints," she explained. "They work just like a door. Back and forth."

Byron swung his legs, grinning. "Hinge joints."

"It's snowing!" Katie exclaimed, pointing out the door.

Michaela gazed outside where light flurries had begun to fall. "So it is." She paused, looking out at the clearing. "Oh, Jim and Luke have come for another visit," she said, waving to the boys as they jogged up to the porch.

"Jim and Luke!" Byron cried.

The boys stepped up onto the porch, cowboy hats falling down to their eyes.

"Good morning, Jim, Luke," Michaela said politely.

"Howdy, ma'am," Luke replied. "Are Katie and Byron still bein' punished?"

Michaela glanced back at the children. "No. Their punishment ended yesterday."

"Can we play with them now?" Jim asked timidly. "We won't touch your boat again."

"Come inside out of this cold first," Michaela said, leading them into the room and shutting the door after them.

"Jim, Luke!" Byron called, a wide smile on his face. "Did you know you got hinges in your legs?"

Luke removed his hat, eyeing the child skeptically. "Hinges? What you talkin' about?"

Michaela stepped back, returning to the table. "We'll show you." She took Byron's leg and moved it up and down. "Where the bones meet in our bodies are called joints. This one is a hinge because it moves just like a door or the lid of a trunk. See?"

Luke brought his arm up, flexing it hard. "My arms do that, too."

"Yes, exactly, Luke," Michaela said, pleased. "And we can move our entire arms or legs in a big circle." She took Katie's arm and moved it in a half circle shape. "But we can only move our lower arms and legs one hundred and eighty degrees. A half circle. Try it."

All four of the children wiggled around their limbs, the discovery of something new thrilling them greatly. Jim stepped closer to the table, the books catching his eyes, and turned the page to a drawing of the splanchnology of man. "What're these for?" he asked, touching his finger to the drawing. "They're funny lookin'."

Michaela peered over his shoulder. "Those? Well, those are your kidneys."

"Kidneys?" Luke repeated slowly.

Michaela placed her hand on Jim's shoulder. "Sit down. All of us. I'll tell you about them."

* * *

Michaela removed her stethoscope from her bag and placed it in Jim's ears. Luke, seated on the table beside Byron, pulled back his unbuttoned shirt as Michaela helped Jim press the bell firmly to his brother's chest. Jim's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"Hear it?" Michaela asked with a grin. "That's the sound of blood flowing into and out of the heart."

"I hear it!" Jim exclaimed.

"Can I get a turn next, Mama?" Katie asked as she watched the boys.

"You've listened lots of times, Katie," Brian pointed out.

"I know," the little girl admitted. "But I want to listen again."

"Me, too. I'm next after Katie," Byron spoke up, resting his hands on his knees.

Michaela smiled. "Well, all right. We can all listen again." She slid her book towards her as the five children hovered around. "This is what our hearts look like. It has four parts called chambers. They work together to keep blood flowing through the body."

"That's the heart?" Jim questioned, running his fingers down the sketch. "We got a lotta funny-lookin' things inside us, don't we!"

"You could say that," Michaela said with a chuckle.

Carrie knocked quickly on the door, opening it without waiting for a reply. "Mrs. Sully, have you seen- ... Jim! Luke! I been lookin' for you boys everywhere!"

"Lunch," Luke breathed. "We forgot."

"I told you two to be back within the hour," Carrie scolded. "Now here you've been missin' all mornin'! I got chores to be done and so do you! You're gonna get it when your pa gets home."

"No, it's my fault, Carrie," Michaela spoke up. "I invited them in to see what we were studying."

"We been lookin' at Miz Sully's pictures, Ma," Jim said as his mother crossed the room to the table. "Kidneys bring everything we don't need to the ur-ters and then the ur-ters bring it to the bladder and then when the bladder gets full-"

"Jimmy Donovan! Enough of that talk! And what's this contraption stuck in your head?" Carrie exclaimed, pulling the stethoscope from his ears. She eyed the medical textbooks with revulsion, closing the cover on the drawing of a man's insides. "Boys, you been peekin' at these? You should be ashamed."

"Sorry, Ma," Luke said quietly. "Sorry."

Carrie buttoned Luke's shirt speedily. "Go wait outside," she ordered.

The children quickly scampered to the door, tears of embarrassment clouding their vision.

Michaela walked to one of the shelves and pulled down a bucket, handing it to Brian. "Could you bring up some more water for me, please? Take Katie and Byron with you."

Brian reluctantly took the bucket. "Sure. I guess."

Michaela waited for them to go, then slowly began stacking her books. "It's just science, Carrie. Basic anatomy. Something every child should do well to have some background in."

"I'll decide what they should and should not have," Carrie retorted. "I can't believe you let your own youn'uns see those, let alone somebody else's."

"All the children were thrilled to be learning," Michaela insisted. "They wanted to know everything. You should have seen their faces, Carrie. Jim and Luke could come every morning and have school with us."

"I told you before they don't have a need to be lookin' at that sort of filth," Carrie said firmly. "You're spoilin' your children's minds, Mrs. Sully. They'll be full of this uselessness and lacking in good morals and judgment."

"Pardon me, but Byron and Katie have very good morals and judgment. At least they did!" Michaela retorted. "Your children took them out on the lake all alone in our rowboat. Your children are the reason my son stole a bird from its nest. And Byron never laid a hand on Katie before until he saw Luke and Jim hit each other."

"Children fight. It's normal," Carrie said defensively. "What ain't normal is tyin' leashes around their necks, keepin' 'em from goin' anywheres. Learnin' to make their own way out here, fend for themselves, is how a child grows up straight."

"It's dangerous out there," Michaela said. "Are you suggesting I just turn Byron and Katie over to the woods?"

"Well, no, but you might let them be children a little more. There's nothin' wrong with lettin' 'em get their clothes a little dirty, their knees skinned," Carrie said. She sighed deeply. "We don't agree on a lot of things, I knew that right off. I s'pose it don't much matter to me how you raise your youn'uns, Mrs. Sully. You can have your schoolin' and your books, but you keep them away from my Jim and Luke. In fact, you might as well keep your youn'uns away from mine all together."

"If that's how you want it then fine," Michaela said. "But keep your children away from Byron and Katie."

"I will," Carrie said, turning for the door and grabbing her sons' hands. "Boys, time to go home."

* * *

"I don't know how it happened, Sully," Michaela went on tearfully. "We were disagreeing about the children and then before I knew it we were forbidding them to see each other."

He unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it off and folded it, laying it over his arm. "Now the kids are the ones who are gonna pay."

"I'm sorry," she said guiltily. "I never intended it to escalate this far."

"What's said is said," he replied, opening the trunk and putting his shirt inside. "Now ya gotta try an' make things right. Why don't ya go out there tomorrow?"

"And apologize?" she blurted. "I believe she's the one who owes an apology. She continuously implies that I'm an unfit mother. It's very presumptuous of her."

"And you don't do the same to her?" he questioned, pulling back the covers and sitting beside her.

"Of course not," she said quickly. "It's just if Jim and Luke were our children I wouldn't allow them to fight or take someone's boat or get into things like they do. And I would give them some decent schooling."

"See?" he said, shifting on his side and sliding his arm around her waist.

"I tried, Sully," she said desperately. "I can't befriend someone like her. We're too different."

He gently kissed her neck, sliding closer. "Nobody said ya gotta be friends. But ya can at least be civil. I'd say you and Carrie are more alike than ya think."

"Oh, you do? And what could we possibly have in common?"

"Ya both got hot tempers, that's for sure," he said. "You're both set on your opinions." He kissed her cheek. "And ya both love your kids in your own ways."

She sighed. "She does love them. I'm not questioning that."

"Maybe ya could build something off of that," he whispered, turning her chin towards him and kissing her lips.

Uncomfortably, she raised her fingers to his lips. "Sully? It was a long day. I'm quite tired."

He immediately backed off, nodding quickly. "All right. Me, too."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, squeezing his hand and shifting down to her side. "It's just tomorrow I have to be up early to start the laundry. I'm not looking forward to being out there in the cold and I know it's going to be another long day."

"It's all right. I got a lot to do tomorrow, too," he replied, gently pecking her lips. "Let's get some sleep."

"Thank you for talking with me about Carrie," she said. "I needed your level head."

He smiled, drawing her to his chest and caressing her hair. "Any time."

* * *

A silent tear slipped down Byron's cheek as he pet the soft gray feathers of his sparrow. Michaela and Sully crouched beside the little boy, patiently allowing him time to say goodbye to his bird. Michaela had almost asked Sully if they should reconsider allowing Byron to keep it. He was so attached to it and had so devotedly raised it to young adulthood. Nonetheless, she knew the bird was a wild animal, and no matter how much Byron might want to keep him, the right thing to do was return him to the woods.

Brian and Katie were sitting on the step of the porch, each having already said goodbye to the bird. Brian had one of his notebooks in his lap and was making some notes with his pencil. Since he had returned from San Francisco, he had become even more dedicated to documenting his observations of Yosemite. He spent nearly every spare moment writing.

"Ya ready, son?" Sully asked, reaching his hand up and smoothing back Byron's hair.

The little boy looked up at him. "You sure he's gonna be all right?"

"Yeah, he'll be all right," Sully replied reassuringly. "His pa raised him up real fine."

"You worked very hard to take care of him," Michaela added. "But I'm glad you understand the best place for him is the trees where he came from. We're very proud of you, sweetheart."

Byron planted a gentle kiss on the bird's feathered head. "Bye-bye, Prince. Be good." He carefully lowered his hands and nudged the bird off to the ground. Prince hopped a few paces forward, then immediately stopped, turning around and squeaking up at Byron.

"Go," the little boy ordered bravely. "Go back to the trees, Prince. Go!"

Prince squeaked louder, hopping in place.

Sully leaned forward and gave the bird's pale belly a gentle tap with his finger, startling him and sending him flying up into the trees.

Byron immediately stood up and shielded his eyes, watching the bird fly until he blended in with the foliage and disappeared. Suddenly, he turned around and stepped into his father's lap, hugging his neck tightly as tears fell from his eyes.

Taken aback, Sully slowly rose to his feet, glancing at Michaela as he picked up the little boy and caressed his hair. "It's all right, Byron. Shh. Ya did the right thing."

"That's the first thing I ever did the best of anybody, Papa," he whispered. "I'm not so good at school like Katie or playin' the harmonica like Brian, but I took care of that bird good. He got big and strong."

Sully smiled, holding him closer. "You were real good at it, son. He took to you right off. Ya had a real knack for it."

Brian rose to his feet and stepped forward, patted his little brother's back. "We're all proud of ya, B."

Sully nodded at the notebook. "What're ya writin' about, Brian?"

Brian stepped back, closing the notebook and tucking it under his arm. "Nothin'," he muttered, lowering his eyes.

Michaela rose to her feet, immediately sensing the tension between Brian and Sully. Whatever efforts Sully had made to break through to Brian since they had returned from San Francisco, the young man had directly rejected. Now it seemed Brian wasn't even interested in having the smallest conversation with him. Michaela couldn't help but intervene. "He's been writing about the different species of trees here, Sully."

"Glad to hear that, Brian," Sully replied awkwardly. "Galen Clark's been tellin' me about the sequoias in the valley. Some of them are over a thousand years old. He's got a cabin of his own out there, even said if any of us ever wanted to go see 'em up close, he'd take us."

"That's nice of him," Brian murmured, turning back for the cabin.

"Brian," Sully called. "What do ya say let's you and me go this Saturday? You can bring all your notebooks along."

Michaela smiled encouragingly. "That's a lovely idea, Sully. Brian?"

Brian slowly turned around. "Thanks but...I don't think so," he said quickly.

"I think you should go, Brian," Michaela said. "...for both your sakes."

Brian eyed her impatiently, stepping up onto the porch. "No, thanks."

"But you would see the sequoias," Michaela protested.

"No. I don't have to," he replied more forcefully, brushing past Katie and closing the door firmly after him.

"Brian?" Michaela called. "Brian!"

Sully grasped her arm, quieting her. "Michaela. It's all right."

She spun around. "I don't understand. This is a wonderful opportunity. I can't believe he doesn't want to see the valley and especially with Mr. Clark. He loves Mr. Clark."

"He just don't wanna see it with me, that's all," Sully replied quietly. "And I s'pose I can't blame him."

"I'll go, Papa," Byron spoke up. "I want to see it with you."

Sully chuckled, kissing his head. "Thanks, son. Maybe sometime, all right? All of us will go see it."

* * *

Michaela crept over to the cots in the corner of the room and knelt beside Byron, mischief in her eyes as she reached her hand out and tickled his chest, rousing him from sleep.

Byron giggled shrilly, awakening Brian and Katie.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Michaela said, withdrawing her hand and giving him a hug.

Katie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and grinned. "Happy birthday, Byron."

Brian got out of bed and tousled his little brother's hair. "Happy birthday, B."

Byron beamed, hugging his mother's neck as she lifted him out of bed and swung him around. "Happy birthday to me!" he shouted.

Michaela placed him on his feet and stooped to his level. "What would you like for breakfast, birthday boy?"

"Pancakes!" he immediately replied, clutching her apron eagerly. "Made in different shapes, Mama."

"Pancakes made in different shapes it is," Michaela said, walking to the fireplace and taking down the griddle from one of the hooks above the table.

"Mama, where's Papa?" Byron asked, glancing around the room as he followed her to the fireplace. "Milkin' the cow?"

Michaela forced a smile. "No, he had to go into work early today."

"They must be awful busy tryin' to get that moraine dynamited on time," Brian remarked as he sat on his cot and tied his boots.

"I wish Papa could stay home and play with me," Byron murmured, sinking into the bench at the table petulantly.

"I do, too," Michaela replied hoarsely. "But don't worry. He promised he'd be home in time for supper. We'll give you your present then, when he's here."

Brian pulled back the curtain and peered out the window. "Looks like a storm's brewin'. Hope he doesn't get holed up there." He walked to the table and gave his little brother's chin a gentle pinch. "Cheer up, B. Ma's makin' your favorite."

Byron smiled faintly. "Yeah. Pancakes."

"I'll bring in some more firewood, Ma," Brian said, grabbing his jacket off the hook. "Best have it stored up in here before the snows fall."

"Thank you, Brian," Michaela replied. "That's a good idea."

"Mama, today can we go for a walk in the woods?" Byron spoke up hopefully. "And look for animals?"

"We have to do your lessons first, " Michaela told him. "And I don't think we should walk very far if the weather is going to change like Brian says."

"School on my birthday! Mama!" Byron exclaimed.

Michaela came to the table and gave his cheek an apologetic kiss. "Yes, school on your birthday!"

* * *

"'Colonial morale was briefly revived by the capture of Trenton, New Jersey,'" Michaela read, pacing back and forth in front of Katie and Byron, a thick textbook in her hands. Brian sat nearby at the fire, taking notes from one of his history books.

Katie and Byron looked up at Michaela tiredly, occasionally letting out impatient sighs. Byron was swinging his legs beneath his chair and Katie was tapping the end of her pencil idly against the table.

"'A brilliantly conceived attack in which Washington crossed the Delaware River on Christmas night, 1776 and surprised the predominantly Hessian garrison,'" Michaela went on.

Byron turned his eyes to the window, watching as a thick snow fell against the windowpanes.

Michaela looked down briefly. "Byron? Pay attention. 'The major success of that year, the defeat of the British at Saratoga, had belonged not to Washington but to Benedict Arnold and Horatio Gates.'"

"Is this book almost over, Mama?" Byron spoke up, glancing out the window again eagerly.

"No, it's not," she said. "You two have been fidgeting all morning. I want you to stop that now and focus. At this rate you're going to be weeks behind the other schoolchildren when we go home."

"We want to play in the snow," Katie said, resting her chin on her hands. "Can we, please?"

Michaela glanced out the window, resting the book on the table. She had to admit the snow was perfect for packing together a snowman or throwing snowballs. Still, she felt she had to be firm with the children. They had gotten out of doing their schoolwork far too many times, especially when she had chores pressing that just couldn't wait. "When we're done with our lessons," Michaela said quietly, raising the book back up.

"Please, Mama?" Katie begged. "This book is boring."

"I wish Miz Teresa was teachin' us," Byron said with a sigh.

"B.," Brian scolded, glancing at his mother.

"But I do," Byron said, crossing his arms.

Michaela drew in her breath, hurt. "I'm doing the best I can. I never said I was a teacher, Byron."

"Can't we at least read something fun?" Byron asked quietly.

"We already read everything fun," Katie said. "Three times! There's nothing left."

"I know, let's listen to our hearts, Mama," Byron said. "I'll get your bag."

"No, we already did that. You need to know about things besides the heart. And not everything can be fun. Sometimes we just have to sit and listen even if it's not very exciting."

"Miz Teresa makes it fun," Byron said.

"Well, I'm sorry but I'm not Miss Teresa," Michaela said. "Now I want you to be still and listen. It's important you have a background in our country's history."

"What for?" Byron asked curiously.

Michaela sighed. "Well, because...because we don't want to make the same mistakes we have in the past."

"What mistakes?" Katie questioned.

Michaela closed the book, sitting down on the bench beside her. "Like slavery for one. People like Miss Grace and Robert E. used to be owned by others simply because their skin is different from ours. We must be certain we never treat people like that again."

"But I don't see anyone out here that looks like Miz Grace and Robert E.," Katie pointed out. "It's just us."

"Now can we play outside, Mama?" Byron pressed.

"Well, I suppose it is your birthday," Michaela murmured. "All right. You may. I can see this is useless anyway. But that doesn't mean our lessons are over. We'll start again tomorrow and I'll expect better behavior."

Katie and Byron scurried over to the coat rack and began bundling themselves in their winter apparel. Michaela pushed the book into the center of the table with a discouraged sigh.

"It's all right, Ma," Brian said softly, standing up and joining her at the table. "It's hard for anybody to concentrate when there's good snow fallin' outside."

"What they need is more books," she replied. "We've already been through everything Mrs. Slicker gave them and I'm afraid your books are going right over their heads."

"I'll take the wagon out to Fresno and get some if ya want," Brian offered. "I wouldn't mind."

"That's thoughtful of you, Brian," she replied. "But books cost money. Money we just can't spare right now. Not with the hospital bill to pay."

"Yeah," he murmured. "Too bad there ain't a library around here."

Michaela nodded dejectedly. "Yes, I know. There's nothing around here...Nothing."

* * *

Michaela stared at the door from her seat at the table as the children picked at their plates of food. Everyone had been relatively silent for most of the meal, the empty place at one end of the table painfully noticeable.

"Maybe he...he got held up in the storm," Brian spoke up hoarsely.

"When will Papa be home, Mama?" Byron asked. "He promised."

Michaela slowly met his eyes. "The storm probably delayed him, sweetheart."

"Could I open my present now?"

Michaela reluctantly stood up and picked up a small package on the counter, returning to the table and handing it to the little boy.

"But...I thought we were waitin' for Pa to get home," Brian said.

"I don't know when he'll be back, Brian," Michaela said, unable to suppress the hurt in her voice. "He knows it's Byron's birthday. He must have a good reason." She sat back down and watched as Byron's face lit up.

"What's inside?" Byron asked, pulling back the string and pushing away the paper. He uncovered a stack of several flat wooden blocks connected with a bright red ribbon. "What's this?" he asked curiously.

"It's a Jacob's ladder, B.," Brian explained. "Mr. Bray had one in the store and me and Pa and everybody figured out how to make one for ya."

"If you hold it just right it looks as if one block is tumbling down over the other blocks," Michaela said.

"And you can make shapes with it," Katie added, taking a sip of her milk. "Papa let me try it out and I made a star."

With Michaela's help, Byron lifted the string of blocks above his head and giggled as, with a satisfying clapping sound, the block at the top appeared to fall down across the remaining blocks. "I like it. It's fun."

"Did you have a nice birthday?" Michaela asked quietly.

Byron put the blocks on the table and glanced at the door. "I guess so."

Michaela followed his gaze, then quickly patted his hand. "Well, let's get you all into your nightclothes. It's getting late."

"No, thanks. I want to wait up for Papa," Byron said.

"From the looks of this storm we could be waiting for hours," Michaela replied. "You'll see him in the morning."

Byron stood up, eyes welling with tears. "But then that's not my birthday, Mama. That's gonna be December three." He held up two fingers. "Today is my birthday. December two, remember? Doesn't he want to come see me on my birthday?"

"He's missing it," Katie spoke up quietly. "Does this mean he'll miss my birthday, too?"

"Like Ma said, he must have a good reason," Brian said reassuringly. "But then again...this storm ain't that bad. We've all seen a lot worse. It seems like Pa woulda made it through by now."

"No use worrying," Michaela said, circling the table and lifting Katie off the bench. "Now to bed."

"But, Mama-" Byron began, tears of disappointment slipping down his cheeks.

"Byron, to bed!" Michaela said more firmly, struggling hard to hold back her own tears.

Chapter Nineteen

Michaela was just beginning to doze in the chair in front of the fireplace when a horse braying outside startled her from sleep. She leaped up from the chair, grabbed her shawl from the hook and ran into the clearing.

"Sully? Are you all right?" she called as he dismounted his horse.

"I'm fine. Sorry I'm late," he replied, turning to face her.

"It must be close to midnight," she went on, wrapping her shawl more tightly around her against the cold. "Did something happen? Were you afraid to travel in the weather?"

He glanced up at the sky. "We just had a lot of work to do today is all. I wanted to finish it up before I headed home."

"Oh," she murmured, face falling with disappointment. "You...you missed Byron's party."

He sighed, grabbing the reins of the horse and leading him into the shed. "I'm sorry."

"Is that all you have to say?" she demanded, following him inside.

"What more do ya want me to say?" he replied, reaching under the horse's belly to unbuckle the strap.

"Sully, he was completely heartbroken. He thought you didn't want to see him on his birthday. All evening he was watching out the window waiting for you to return."

"Did he like his present?" Sully asked, voice tense as he hoisted the saddle off the horse and slammed it down on the side of the stall.

"He would have liked it better if his father was there to see him open it," she said rigidly. "This day was supposed to be special for him, Sully. We were supposed to celebrate with him as a family. And instead you were off working."

"You've missed things, too," he retorted. "How many times have ya had to run out on somethin' special to help somebody at the clinic? It happens, Michaela."

"No, I would never just abandon my son on a day like this. If there was an emergency at the clinic I would have made sure I at least saw him for a few minutes to wish him a happy birthday. And don't turn this around on me. I didn't miss it. You did!"

"I know!" he said, slamming his fist forcefully on the side of the stall. "Don't ya think I've been thinkin' about him all day, feelin' guilty? But there was nothin' I could do. I had to finish what I started." He walked over to her, caressing her shoulder. "Look, I'll make it up to him. I promise."

"How?" she demanded skeptically.

"I'll think of somethin'," he said quickly. "Now you wanna tell me what's really botherin' ya? Michaela, what's goin' on?"

"I told you," she said briskly. "You just left us here all alone on his birthday and went all the way out there in this storm."

"I was fine. I won't travel if the weather gets too bad."

"I know, Sully," she murmured, stepping back. "I just...I can't stop thinking about what Thaddeus told us. About the Donner Party being trapped in these mountains. It's silly. I just...I worry."

"Stop worryin'. I'm bein' careful."

"Very careful I hope."

He reached his hand up and caressed her cheek. "I'm sorry about Byron. I'm sorry, Michaela. I don't want us to be angry at each other. I want ya to understand the kind of commitments I've made to Harper and the team."

"Which are more important than your commitments to your own child," she replied, swallowing hard.

He dropped his arms at his sides with frustration. "Don't start doin' that. I ain't sayin' that."

"What are you trying to say then?" she demanded.

He brushed passed her and opened the door. "It's late and we're tired. I just want to get to bed. I gotta be up early again tomorrow."

"We're not done discussing this, Sully," she said impatiently.

"Maybe you aren't," he said. "But I am."

* * *

Andy turned a stick of dynamite in his fingers, staring at it pensively as he chewed on a stick of jerky. He drew his coat up tighter around him as a brisk wind swept through the camp.

Silas walked over to him, puffing on a cigar, and took a seat beside the small campfire Andy had set up. "Ya got it?" he asked.

"Right here," Andy replied, clutching the stick to his chest. "Silas, you sure about this? I don't want nobody to be killed."

Silas chuckled, scratching the whiskers at his chin. "Nobody's gonna be killed. A few rocks will fall, scrape 'em up a bit. The point is Sully won't be able to work. Then I get to be back in charge like I should be."

"The two of 'em are up in Spider Cave right now," Andy remarked, taking another big bite out of the jerky. "Scoutin' out the next place to dynamite."

"Don't they even stop for lunch?" Silas demanded, standing back up.

"Nope," Andy replied. "They work like dogs."

Silas slapped him on the back. "When I'm boss, we'll have all the lunch breaks we want. How's that sound to ya?"

"Good...Boss," Andy replied, grinning.

Silas glanced around the camp, empty of all men. "Everybody's out at the moraine 'cept Harper but he's in his office. Let's do this."

* * *

Thaddeus held up his lantern inside the shallow cave as Sully made several notes with his clipboard and pencil.

"She was real upset about their fallin' out," Thaddeus remarked.

"So was Michaela," Sully replied.

"Sully, ya gotta understand my woman can't hold her tongue," he went on. "She can really go after a body hammer and tongs once she gets started. It's gotten us into a heap of trouble in our day."

Sully chuckled. "Same here."

"I'm sorry about this," Thaddeus said. "I know our wives got different ways of lookin' at things, but I thought they could get along enough to keep each other company during the day. When me and Carrie was livin' out in Utah, there weren't many folks around there either. We was lookin' forward to havin' some neighbors."

"Give 'em some time," Sully said. "They'll work things out."

"We're still friends, ain't we?" Thaddeus asked.

Sully patted him firmly on the back. "Sure. Good friends." He gestured at the entrance to the cave. "Bring the light over here. I'd recommend blastin' away some of this rubble, opening things up here a little. What do ya think?"

"Then folks can explore the caves," Thaddeus remarked.

"Sounds good. Let's decide where we want the men to drill then," Sully said, gesturing for him to come closer.

Instantly, a deafening explosion rattled the small cave. Smoke, ash, and debris barreled inside and a massive shower of rocks came crashing down, sealing off the entrance. The force of the blast threw Thaddeus and Sully violently against the back wall of the cave as more thick dust fell down on them.

Slowly, the smoke cleared, leaving them in utter darkness.

Sully coughed and sputtered, weakly sitting up and rubbing the dust from his eyes. "Thaddeus!" he called hoarsely, coughing some more. "Thaddeus!" He raised his hand to his head, feeling a trickle of sticky blood sliding down his temple. He was hurt, but he had no idea how seriously. He crawled forward in the darkness, feeling his way with his hands. "Thaddeus! Where are ya? Thaddeus!"

"Sully!" Thaddeus shouted weakly.

Sully ran into his friend's leg and immediately felt his way up to his shoulders. "Thaddeus, it's me. Are ya hurt?"

"My head," he sputtered, slowly sitting up. "Somethin' hit my head. Some rocks. It's bleedin'."

"Stay still," Sully told him.

"We're trapped, Sully!" he cried. "Somethin' happened. It just all caved in. I can't see a damned thing."

"We'll get out," Sully said firmly, clutching his arm. "Just stay still. They'll dig us out."

"We're trapped. My wife, my little boys," he went on.

"Our men are comin' for us," Sully said. "They're gonna dig us out, Thaddeus. I promise."

* * *

"Christ, Silas! The whole place caved in!" Andy exclaimed, eyes widening as he gazed up at the thick cloud of smoke.

Silas backed up, stunned. He had estimated the stick of dynamite was enough to send a few rocks crashing down on Thaddeus and Sully, but he never expected such a severe blast. His heart leapt into his throat as he realized there was a good chance he had just killed one of the men, perhaps even both of them. He glanced at Andy, breathing hard. "We gotta get help."

"Damn right we gotta get help. We gotta get them out of there!" Andy blurted. "You said we'd just scrape 'em up!"

"I didn't know..." Silas stammered. "I didn't think this could happen-"

"Silas! Andy!" Harper shouted, running over to the men. "What the devil's going on?" Several other men working nearby began gathering around, looking up at the cave and talking amongst themselves frantically.

"It was an accident, sir," Andy began, running his fingers through his hair.

Silas stepped forward. "We were tryin' to remove some rock and we-we...it went off."

"Well, don't let this ever happen again," Harper said. "What if somebody had been around?"

"Somebody was, sir," Andy said hoarsely. "Sully and Thaddeus are in there, scoutin'. It was an accident!"

"Sully and Thaddeus are in there?" Harper shouted. He grabbed their collars tightly, face reddening with the exertion. "Good God! What's wrong with you? You two are fired!"

"Wait, sir," Silas began. "Let me help dig 'em out. For my own piece of mind."

"Me, too," Andy added. "I gotta help."

Harper crossed his arms angrily. "Very well. We'll need all the hands we can get." He glanced at the circle of men that had formed around the confrontation. "Listen, all of you! Drop your work. Everyone get a shovel, some rope, axes, whatever you can find. And somebody ride out and tell Mrs. Sully and Mrs. Donovan. They should know about this immediately."

* * *

Exhausted, Michaela picked up two buckets of water and trudged back up the bank of the creek, walking over to the cauldron she had positioned over a fire Brian had made for her. She dumped the water into the cauldron and picked up the long paddle, stirring the clothing inside. She had been hovering over the cauldron and washboard all morning, raking diaper after diaper and stocking after stocking up and down it. She was wet, cold and just short of miserable. She couldn't wait to be finished with the chore, even if that meant then she would have to go back inside, where the children were playing, and start them on their lessons for the day. Anything was better than doing the laundry.

Brian opened the door, rubbing his arms to keep away the chill. "Ma? Jack's cryin'. I can't get him to stop."

She turned from the cauldron, running her hand across her brow as the sound of the baby's whimpers traveled outside. "Did you feed him his bottle?"

"I tried that. He don't want it," he called. "I checked his diaper, too. It's dry. I think he wants you, Ma."

"All right. I'm coming," she said with a sigh, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Who's that?" Brian shouted as a rider appeared from the trees, galloping up to their clearing.

Michaela turned and looked up at the young man, his cowboy hat nudged over his perspiring brow.

"Miz Sully?" he said, jumping down from his horse. "I'm Aaron. I'm on Harper's team with your husband."

Michaela stepped closer to him, fear gripping her throat. "Is something wrong? What happened?"

"Now don't panic, ma'am," he began, removing his hat to reveal wispy blond hair. "But there's been an accident."

"An accident?" she blurted. "What kind of accident?"

"Sully was scoutin' in a cave with Tad. Dynamite went off. We're diggin' 'em out right now."

"How'd that happen?" Brian demanded, stepping off the porch. "Pa!"

"Sully," Michaela murmured, pressing her hand to his mouth.

Aaron gently clutched her arm. "We'll get him out, don't you worry. But Harper said you should know. I just came from the Donovan's place. The missus has already gone out there."

"I'll get my bag. They could be hurt," she said, untying her apron.

"Bag? What bag?" he asked.

"My medical bag. I'm a doctor," she said quickly, turning for the door.

He chuckled. "Oh, right. Sully told us about this. A real doctor, huh?"

"Yes, a real doctor," Michaela said firmly. She glanced at Brian. "I need you to stay here with the children."

"No. I'm comin' with ya, Ma," he retorted, following her inside. "I can help."

"Brian, please-" she began.

"They're gonna need good strong men to pull the rocks away," Brian cut in, removing his jacket from the hook and slipping it on. "I'm goin'."

Michaela grabbed her bag off the mantel as Katie and Byron got out of their chairs, peeking at the man outside curiously. "All right," she murmured. "Then hitch the wagon and help me bundle up the children."

Brian pulled on his gloves, swallowing hard. "He's gonna be all right, Ma. Right?"

"I'm sure he's going to be fine, Brian," she said, voice unsteady. "Let's just get out there."

* * *

"Heave!" the men shouted, a line of them pulling on a thick rope. "Heave! Heave!" They fell back as a thick boulder broke loose from the pile and rolled down to the ground.

"That's good, men. We're making progress," Harper said, pacing nervously in front of the huge pile of rubble. "Do it again now. Tie it to another."

Carrie knelt beside the cave, tears drying down her cheeks. Jim and Luke lingered behind her and silently watched the men work.

"Mrs. Donovan," Harper began quietly, walking over to her and gently putting his hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you come over here and sit down, ma'am."

"No. I have to keep calling to him," she protested. She grasped the rocks and shifted closer. "Thaddeus! Thaddeus! Answer me!"

"Pa! Pa!" Luke shouted, bravely holding back tears.

"Papa!" Jim said shakily, clutching his suspenders.

Brian gave his mother a hand up the incline, Jack in her arms and Aaron following behind them with Katie and Byron.

Michaela gasped as she saw the pile of rocks for the first time. She ran over to Harper, frantically searching his eyes.

"Can you hear them?" she demanded.

"Not yet, Mrs. Sully," he said. "The rocks are probably too deep right now."

Katie tugged on her mother's blouse sleeve. "Mama, is Papa in there?" she asked timidly.

Michaela wrapped her arm around her. "It's all right, sweetheart. They'll get him out soon."

"That we will," Harper said, nodding at a small circle of men resting and warming their hands in front of fire. "Mrs. Sully, we've got a campfire going. Why don't you sit there with your children?"

Michaela led Byron and Katie over to the fire and settled them down beside it as Brian stepped up to the group of men, standing tall.

"I'm here to help," he said. "Tell me what to do."

One of the men eyed him hesitantly. "Grab a wheelbarrow, son. Start hauling away some of these rocks."

"Yes, sir," Brian replied eagerly.

"I want you to stay here with Jack," Michaela instructed the younger children, laying a blanket on the ground and sitting the baby on it.

"I want to help get Papa out," Byron said. "I'll help push the wheelbarrow like Brian."

Michaela caressed his cheek. "I know you want to, but the best thing you can do right now is stay out of the way, all right? I need your help the most with Jack right now. Could you tell him a story?"

Byron sighed, clasping his little brother's hand. "I guess so."

"We can sing him a song, too, Mama," Katie offered.

"Yes, he'd love that," Michaela said, kissing her head and standing up. "Thank you for watching him for me. I'll be right nearby." She lifted her skirts and walked back to the cave as another large boulder escaped from the pile and rolled to the ground.

Michaela tentatively met Carrie's eyes. "Have you heard anything yet?"

"No, not a thing," Carrie said quickly, drawing Jim and Luke tight against her and stepping a few paces away from Michaela.

Michaela nodded awkwardly, grasping the rocks and leaning forward. "Sully?" she shouted. "Sully! Sully, please. Sully!"

Carrie closed her eyes against another wave of tears. "Thaddeus!"

Michaela knelt down and held the rocks tighter, struggling to keep herself composed. "Sully...Sully!"

* * *

Her voice all but gone, Michaela wrapped her arms warmly around Katie and Byron as they rested their heads in her lap and dozed. Jack was fast asleep in front of the fire, tucked in a warm quilt Harper had scrounged up for him. A crisp night wind had picked up, flickering the flames of the fire. Despite the cold and the late hour, the men worked on tirelessly, Brian among them, chipping away at the rocks with their axes and carrying away boulders with ropes and pulleys.

Michaela had called for Sully all afternoon and evening, receiving nothing in response. She finally decided to sit with the children and rest her voice for a few minutes. She had a few bites of the stew the men had cooked and washed her face with cool water from a canteen. Carrie, however, had refused to break away from her vigil. She continued to call tirelessly for her husband, ignoring Harper's pleas to rest, even if it was for only a moment.

"Lost my two brothers to a cave in," Aaron spoke up, sitting down on the fallen rock across from Michaela with a plate of stew. "Back in Pittsburgh."

Michaela slowly raised her eyes to his, clutching Katie and Byron tighter.

"Their candle will go out first, if they even got one," another worker spoke up, sitting beside Aaron, another plate of stew in hand. "They'll be thirsty, hungry, won't be able to see their hand in front of their face."

"The air is what I've been thinkin' about," Aaron said. "It's a small cave. It's gonna run out soon. Maybe before the night's up."

Michaela shuddered, smoothing back Byron's hair protectively.

"It ain't gonna be pleasant, runnin' out of air like that," the other man added.

Michaela looked up as Harper walked over to them, sipping from a mug of coffee. Jim and Luke followed behind him, rubbing their eyes tiredly.

"Aaron, Skip," Harper said. "Leave Mrs. Sully alone."

"Yes, sir," Aaron said quickly, picking up his plate of stew and walking back to the cave.

"Mr. Harper? Any change?" Michaela immediately asked.

"We're still working," he said. "I've convinced Mrs. Donovan to let me take her children to a tent and tuck them in for the night. Why don't we bring yours along?

Michaela glanced down at them. "Yes, that's probably a good idea."

"Come along then," he said, bending down to his knees and hoisting Jack into his arms.

"Oh, that's all right. I can take the baby," Michaela protested, standing up and drawing Byron and Katie to their feet.

He smiled, gently placing Jack over his shoulder. "I can handle him. My wife and I raised up three of our own. It's been awhile, but I still have it in me."

Michaela smiled softly. "Thank you."

He led Michaela and the children down to camp and inside one of the largest tents. A row of cots were positioned along the back wall with soft pillows and warm blankets. "Will this do?"

"This is perfect," Michaela said, taking the baby from him and putting him in the middle of one of the cots. "Thank you so much."

"I'll leave you to settle them in," he said. "If you don't mind I need a smoke."

Michaela nodded, tucking a few pillows safe around Jack's sides as Jim and Luke slipped off their boots and reclined on two cots in one corner of the room. The boys were asleep within seconds, exhausted after helping Carrie call through the rocks for hours.

Michaela kissed Jack's head and then turned to Katie and Byron, helping them off with their shoes and then under the covers of two cots next to the baby.

"Aren't you going to sleep, too, Mama?" Katie asked.

Michaela sat on her bed and attempted to smile. "I'm going to go back and call out to Papa some more. As soon as we get enough rocks away so he can hear us, I want him to know we're here waiting for him."

"When is Papa gonna get out of there?" Byron asked.

"Soon," Michaela said quickly.

"When we wake up?" he pressed.

"What if they can't get him out?" Katie added.

"They will," Michaela said. "They're all working hard. It's just going to take some time."

"Isn't he hungry?" Byron questioned.

"And cold," Katie added. "He needs a blanket."

"Did he bring food in there?" Byron pressed.

Michaela patted his hand, scrambling to come up with an answer that wouldn't frighten the children even more, even if that meant stretching the truth. "Yes, of course. I imagine he has his pack in there with him. He always has some dried meat. He'll share it with Mr. Donovan."

"Good," Byron said, satisfied.

Michaela leaned over him and kissed his brow. "Goodnight, Brynie. I love you."

Byron hugged her neck. "'Night, Mama."

Michaela gave him another kiss and then hugged Katie tight. "I love you, sweetheart. Goodnight."

"'Night," Katie whispered.

"If you need me just call," Michaela said, standing up. "I won't be far."

She pulled back the flap of the tent, gave them a little wave and closed it after her, strolling over to Harper.

"They'll be safe and warm in there, Mrs. Sully," he remarked, puffing anxiously on his cigar.

She circled around him to look him in the eyes. "Is my husband dead, Mr. Harper?"

"Of course not," he replied, taken aback.

"No. Tell me the truth," she whispered. "Please."

He folded his arms, swallowing hard. "The truth. The truth is I don't know. The strength of that blast was enough to kill ten men. But if they were far enough back, there's a good chance they may be safe, just trapped. I haven't given up hope yet and I don't want you to either."

She gently clasped his hand. "Thank you for all you're doing."

He nodded. "We're going to get to them, no matter how long it takes. You have my word on that."

Chapter Twenty

"What time ya reckon it is?" Thaddeus asked, arms folded across his chest tiredly.

"Must be past midnight by now," Sully replied, resting his back against the cool rocks.

"You s'pose they'll be diggin' for us this time of night?" he went on.

"I know they are," Sully said. "They won't quit."

"I still can't get used to this dark," he said with a sigh. "Never been anywheres so dark. It's enough to startle a grown fella out of his boots."

"How's your head?" Sully murmured. He had unbuttoned his shirt several hours before and ripped it into bandages, tying the strips of cloth haphazardly around Thaddeus's forehead as well as he could in the pitch black.

"It won't stop bleedin'," Thaddeus said. "Don't hurt as much though. How you holdin' up?"

"I'm all right," Sully said.

Thaddeus took a deep breath. "We're gonna run out of air, Sully."

He nodded. "Best thing we can do is keep still. We won't need as much air if we're not movin' around."

"I don't know what this is gonna do to my wife," he said shakily. "Findin' me...gone. What's she gonna do? What're my boys gonna do without their pa?"

"Don't think that. We're gonna get out real soon," Sully said firmly.

"We're gonna run out of air sooner," Thaddeus said. "You know that good as I. We don't even know if they're diggin' for us. Maybe they don't even know we're in here. Ain't you thinkin' about your wife and kids?"

"They're all I been thinkin' about," Sully admitted quietly. "They came out here in the first place 'cause of me. I can't just leave 'em here like this. I gotta believe we're gonna make it."

"If my head keeps bleedin' like this...if you get out and I don't make it...Will ya look after my family for me? Tell 'em I love 'em?"

"Thaddeus, ya can't think that," Sully said curtly.

"Please, Sully? I'd do the same for you."

Sully reached over and found his hand, clasping it firmly. "All right. If that's what ya want."

"Good," he murmured. "I can rest easier now."

"Don't ya give up," Sully said. "Let's keep talkin'. Keep each other awake."

* * *

Michaela rested despairingly against the rocks as the men continued to work. She quickly calculated in her head how much time had passed since the explosion. At least eighteen hours. There was a chance Sully and Thaddeus had already used all the oxygen in the small cave and had suffocated, if they had even survived the blast in the first place.

If Carrie had allowed the idea that it could be too late to enter her head, she didn't show it. She stood nearby, hair falling out of her bun and face bathed in sweat, screaming tirelessly for her husband.

Michaela took a deep breath and stood straight again. Carrie hadn't given up and she couldn't either. They could still make it out alive. "Sully!" she cried with all the energy she could muster. "Sully!"

Harper watched Michaela with concern, shaking his head. He turned and walked briskly over to Silas, who was resting for a few minutes with a cigar. "Make yourself useful. Go take Mrs. Sully and Mrs. Donovan some more water."

"But-" Silas began, rising to his feet.

"Do it!" Harper ordered.

"Yes, sir," Silas muttered, stamping out his cigar. Tentatively, he walked over to the two women, his shirt soaked with perspiration from the hours he had spent hauling away debris. He unscrewed the top off his canteen and held it out.

"Mrs. Sully," he began hoarsely. "Ya ain't sat down in a while. Would ya like somethin' to drink?"

Michaela reluctantly took the canteen from him and whet her parched throat with a few swigs of the cool water. "Thank you, Silas," she whispered.

"Sure thing," he whispered, avoiding her eyes as he stepped toward Carrie. "Mrs. Donovan? Some water?"

Carrie slowly turned to face him, brow fixed. "So you're Silas, are ya? Thaddeus told me about you, all the trouble you caused. I know it must be you that done this."

"Soon as we're done here, ma'am, once we get 'em out, I'll be movin on," Silas stammered.

"If they even get out!" she exclaimed, eyes flickering with vehemence. "You did this! You-you killed my husband!" She grabbed his collar, pulled him toward her fervidly and attacked him with her fists. Stunned, Silas could only stand there while she scratched his face and screaming at him incoherently. Michaela grasped Carrie's arms, struggling to keep her back.

"Carrie!" Michaela said. "Carrie, don't! We don't know for certain that this was anything more than an accident!"

"Leave me be!" she shouted, twisting out of Michaela's grasp and striking Silas harder.

Determinedly, Michaela grabbed her again and pulled her back more forcefully. "He's not worth this, Carrie."

Slowly relenting, Carrie fell to her knees, bursting into tears. "He killed them!"

Tears of shame burning his eyes, Silas watched them for a moment, then stepped away, disappearing back into the crowd of workers.

Michaela held her tightly, lip trembling as her strength weakened. "It's all right. Shh."

"You're a fool if you think this was some kind of accident," Carrie went on. "I was a fool to think nothin' would ever happen! Silas has been wantin' to get rid of your husband for a long time and now Thaddeus is dead because he tried to defend him."

"They're not dead!" Michaela protested.

Carrie shook her head as tears fell harder. "How...how we gonna tell our youn'uns? How we gonna tell our babies that their...their pa's gone?"

Michaela closed her eyes, letting out a soft sob. "I don't know," she choked. "...I don't know."

* * *

Men gradually began blowing out the lanterns they had positioned around the area as the sun rose over the mountains. Michaela could see they were weary and discouraged, but they continued to press on, a few of them occasionally breaking to come over and talk to her and Carrie, offering them cups of coffee, a warm bite to eat or another blanket.

Michaela watched Carrie, the woman's eyes glazed over as she stared at the workers continuing to haul away rocks. She was sitting on a stump near the entrance to the cave, slowly rocking in the cool morning air, her worn leather Bible clutched to her chest. She had stopped calling for her husband several hours before and hadn't spoken a word since. Michaela could see how hard Carrie was struggling to hang onto her faith when reality suggested that all hope was lost.

"Mama!" Byron suddenly called, scurrying up the embankment to her side.

Michaela immediately held her arms out to him and drew him to her. "Byron? It's early."

"I woke up," he replied. "Is Papa out yet?"

Michaela smoothed back his disheveled hair. "No, darling. Not yet."

He hugged her waist tight. "I had a bad dream. I was stuck in a cave like Papa."

"Oh," Michaela murmured, kissing his brow. "It was just a dream. You're all right now."

"You said they'd get him out soon," he told her impatiently. "When? I want to go home."

Michaela grasped his arms, turning him to face her. The workers were looking for bodies now. She could see that all across their faces. As much as she knew how painful it would be, she sensed it was time to prepare the children for the worst. "Byron...I want to talk to you about that. The cave that Papa's in, it...it isn't that big."

"He doesn't have much room to move around in there," he replied.

"Yes, that's true," Michaela said hoarsely. "There also isn't very much air in there. We don't think it would take very long for Papa and Mr. Donovan to breathe in all of it and use it up."

"Then what?" he questioned softly. "They gotta get more air."

"I know," she began, a tear falling down her cheek. "But if they can't...well, then they'd go to heaven."

He shook his head in disbelief. "But...Papa."

She nodded. "I know. We're going to keep trying. But if it is too late...he knows we love him."

His eyes welled with tears. "No, Mama. He's gotta get out."

She drew him to her warmly, rubbing his back. "I know, sweetheart."

"Ya gotta keep calling," he told her firmly. "Then he knows we're waiting for him."

"I called all night, sweetheart. I don't have a voice anymore," she said.

"Mama, keep calling Papa," he insisted, pulling back and grabbing her hand, drawing her to her feet. "Please. Please."

She brushed away his tears and stepped over to the blocked entrance to the cave, tiredly squatting down.

"Go. Call him," Byron encouraged, tugging on her arm pleadingly. "Mama, come on."

Michaela took a deep breath and grasped the rocks. "Sully...Sully."

"It's no use," Carrie spoke up, shaking her head as she held her Bible tighter. "Please, Mrs. Sully. Don't do that anymore. It's too much."

Michaela nodded tearfully, wrapping her arm around Byron and standing up. "Let's get you something to eat, sweetheart."

"No! Listen!" Byron shouted, pressing his ear against the rocks and holding onto them tightly.

"...Michaela," a voice cried faintly.

Eyes widening, Michaela fell to her knees, drawing herself close against the rock. "Sully? Sully!" She turned around, glancing at the workers. "Stop! We hear something!"

The men immediately dropped their ropes and tools, running to the cave and straining to hear.

"Thaddeus!" Carrie screamed, standing up from her seat and hurrying over to the group. "Thaddeus!"

"Sully!" Michaela called with all her might.

"Michaela!" the voice called back, stronger this time.

"Pa!" Brian shouted, face spotted with dust and a shovel resting over his shoulder.

"It's him! It's Sully!" Harper exclaimed, spinning around to face the workers. "Haul away the rest of these rocks. Make an opening! Hurry, for God sakes!"

The workers rushed back to their positions, dislodging the rocks with more fever than they had mustered all that night.

"Why can't I hear my husband? Why isn't he calling, too?" Carried demanded anxiously. "Thaddeus!"

Michaela picked up Byron and grabbed Carrie's arm. "Let's step back. Give them room to work."

They waited restlessly for an agonizing half hour, watching as the workers chipped away at the rock and dumped it into Brian's wheelbarrow. The young man ran back and forth with the wheelbarrow, discarding the rocks in an accumulating pile nearby and then returning to the men, his pace never slowing. Finally, Andy jumped up, throwing his pick ax on the ground.

"I got it!" he yelled. "I got an opening!"

Michaela ran back to the group, Byron right behind her, as Sully's hand, covered in dust, mud and ash, burst through the small hole the men had made. She immediately grabbed it, clutching it tightly against her.

"Sully, I'm here!" she called, tears falling down her cheeks. "It's all right. We're going to get you out. It's all right."

"Thaddeus!" Carrie shouted. "Sully, where's Thaddeus!"

"He's here!" he called back. "He needs help!"

"What happened?" Carrie demanded, immediately falling into tears. "Is he hurt? Thaddeus!"

Harper gently grasped Michaela's shoulder. "Ask him to step back as far as he can. We've got to make a larger opening."

Michaela kissed Sully's hand lovingly, not caring how filthy it was. "Sully, you and Thaddeus stay away. Give the men room to work, all right?"

"All right!" he called back, drawing his hand back inside.

"I'm right here," she said reassuringly. "I'm waiting for you."

Michaela drew Byron to her side protectively as the men grabbed their pick axes and brought them down on the rocks with all their strength. Finally, they secured an opening large enough to draw Sully and Thaddeus through.

Harper reached his arms in as other men positioned themselves around him. "Sully, grab my hands!" he shouted.

Slowly, Sully's arms came into view. The men hoisted him up and through the opening, laying him down carefully nearby. He was covered from head to foot in dust, his shirt was missing and he was squinting painfully in the sunlight. Michaela immediately ran to him and fell to her knees, taking his cheeks in her hands.

"Sully!" she said passionately. "Oh."

"Ya gotta get Thaddeus," he said weakly, grasping her arm and attempting to sit up. He coughed forcefully, struggling to remove the dust from his lungs.

"No, lie still. They'll bring him out," she instructed, smoothing his soiled hair back to reveal a nasty scrape along the side of his head. "Are you hurt? Oh. Oh."

"I'm all right," he said dismissively. "It ain't bleedin' no more."

She shook her head as tears resumed. "Sully."

He drew her close and held her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"You're alive," she said, kissing his forehead, his cheeks and his lips. "I thought..."

"I couldn't give up," he whispered, caressing her cheek. "I couldn't. I love ya so much, Michaela."

"I love you, too," she choked, pressing her brow to his as tears slipped down her cheeks and onto his. "I love you, too."

Shyly, Byron peeked out from behind Michaela and gazed at Sully pensively. "How'd ya get so dirty, Papa?" he asked.

Sully chuckled softly, drawing Byron to his chest in a warm hug. "Do I look that bad?"

"Yeah. You need a bath," he said, wrapping his arms around his father's neck affectionately.

"That we can see to later," Michaela said wryly.

"Where are the rest of the kids?" Sully asked, rubbing his son's back comfortingly.

"Jack and Katie are back in a tent, sleeping," Michaela explained. She looked up to see Brian standing nearby, watching the scene. The boy immediately averted his eyes, shifting his attention back to the workers. "Brian's here, too, Sully. We're all here."

"Michaela, go take a look at Thaddeus," Sully said, watching as the men lifted his limp body from the opening. "I'm all right. I'll stay here. I promise."

She gave his cheek one last kiss and then stood up, retrieving her medical bag resting on a fallen log nearby.

"Somebody ride out to Fresno," Harper ordered as the men laid Thaddeus on his back and covered him with a few blankets. "Get the doc!"

Thaddeus was unconscious, the bandages Sully had made for him soaked with blood.

"Thaddeus. Thaddeus," Carrie murmured, caressing his arm. "Wake up. Oh, please."

"Let me through!" Michaela called, making her way to the front of the crowd and kneeling beside him. She immediately unclasped her bag, pulling out a pair of bandage scissors and cutting through the scraps of cloth. "Mr. Donovan? Can you hear me?"

"Mrs. Sully! What are ya doin'?" Carrie demanded as Michaela probed the deep gash across his forehead with her fingers.

"First he has to have stitches to stop the bleeding," she said quickly. "I'm going to need some water and several clean cloths."

"I'll get it, Ma," Brian said, breaking away from the group and running back to camp.

"Back away! You ain't touchin' him!" Carrie said, clutching her husband's arm protectively.

"What's she think she's doin'?" one of the workers spoke up.

"She ain't gonna cut on him, is she?" another added. "Who's she think she is?"

Harper stepped forward, laying his hand tentatively on Michaela's shoulder. "Now, Mrs. Sully. We got a perfectly good doc coming out here soon as he can. There's no need for this."

"This man could still die," Michaela retorted. "I need to assess his injuries immediately. He can't wait!"

"Carrie," Thaddeus muttered, tossing his head.

Michaela reached into her bag and pulled out a cloth, wiping away some of the dirt from his face. "Mr. Donovan? Open your eyes."

"It's me, Thaddeus," Carrie said, leaning close to him and smoothing back his hair. "Wake up. Please!"

"Mr. Donovan, can you see how many fingers I'm holding up?" Michaela asked anxiously, raising two fingers in front of his eyes.

Thaddeus blinked slowly. "Two?"

"Yes, that's good," Michaela said, withdrawing her hand with a smile. "That's a good sign. Do you feel lightheaded, or nauseous?"

"Thaddeus, ya big fool!" Carrie said fervently, grabbing his shoulders. "I told ya I didn't want ya anywheres near that blasting powder and ya go and do it anyway! My heart's been in my throat all day and night!"

"Quit your barkin', woman," Thaddeus said with a groan. "My head hurts enough as it is."

Carrie chuckled, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. "Oh, thank the good Lord you're safe."

Michaela pulled out another pair of scissors, her bottle of carbolic acid and a length of thread.

"What're ya up to, Mrs. Sully?" Thaddeus questioned, eyeing the scissors. "Ya ain't fixin' to use those on me, are ya?"

"You just need a few stitches," Michaela said. "It shouldn't be too painful, although I can give you some chloroform if you'd prefer."

"Chloro ... ? What in tarnation's that?" he demanded.

"Mrs. Sully, look," Harper spoke up, stepping closer. "Seems to me Thaddeus isn't too easy with you working on him. Now as good as your intentions may be, and mind you I appreciate your attempt here, I know I'd feel a lot better if we waited for the Fresno doc. It's nothing personal, ma'am."

Michaela rose to her feet, clutching her scissors angrily. "Yes, it's very personal, Mr. Harper. I'm a doctor just like that man in Fresno. There's no reason other than a personal one I shouldn't be allowed to work on Mr. Donovan, especially if his life might depend on it."

Harper clutched his vest impatiently. "Well, I believe we should ask Mr. Donovan then. He's the one we're talking about. Tad, how do ya feel? Can ya wait for Doc?"

"Good, sir," Thaddeus replied, clutching his head gently. "I can wait."

"We'll wait for the real doctor," Carrie said firmly. "Pack up those knives, Mrs. Sully. They're frightenin' us all."

"Then that settles it!" Harper said, smiling weakly.

Michaela drew in her breath, face warming with exasperation. "Fine. I'll tend to my own husband then."

"Yes, yes, go ahead," Harper said, waving his hand. "Take good care of him."

"I will!" Michaela replied decisively, spinning around and pushing her way out of the crowd.

* * *

Sully dipped his hands into the washbasin beside the bed and splashed his face, rubbing the water around his neck and on his chest. It never felt so wonderful to be clean. He had spent a good half hour in the tub, washing away all the dirt. Even now several hours later, he couldn't get enough of clear, cool water against his skin.

Michaela stood on the opposite side of the bed and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, eyes filled with tears. "I just don't understand why they wouldn't let me do anything, Sully," she said.

He sighed softly, splashing his face with another handful of water. Michaela had been going on about Harper, Carrie and the workers not wanting her help as a doctor for some time now. He was fast running out of words to reassure her. "Like I was sayin' before, it's different out here."

"I thought if I persisted enough, they would change their minds," she said, slipping off the blouse and folding it neatly. "Somehow I have to show them I'm just as capable."

"So now ya want to take care of the kids, the cabin, have some schoolin' each day and on top of that be the doctor for the entire team?" he asked. "Michaela, it's just that Harper already has a doctor lined up. Somebody he trusts."

"But I'm closer to your work site," she protested. "And I could manage it. Somehow." She reached behind her and unclasped her skirt, stepping out of it.

"What is it, Michaela?" he asked. "Ya missin' the clinic? We knew goin' in we'd have to give up some things."

"No, it's not that," she said quickly.

"Then what?" he persisted, circling the bed. "It ain't like ya to hang onto things like this. Certain things we just gotta accept."

"You could be a little more understanding," she said curtly. "Harper effectively told me I couldn't do my job because I'm a woman. I don't see you having that problem very often."

He threw his hands in the air, frustrated. "I'm sorry he hurt your feelins. But I don't know how this is my fault."

"He didn't hurt my feelings," she said stubbornly. "He just...angered me."

"Yeah. I can see that," he muttered.

She eyed him crossly. "If you want to make a joke out of me then fine. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm going to bed. Excuse me." She brushed passed him and opened the trunk, stooping down, placing her clothing inside and taking out her nightgown. Then, modestly, she turned her back to him and began unlacing her camisole and pantaloons.

Sully stood silently and watched her out of the corner of his eye, guilt pressing down on him. He wanted to make up for all the worry he had caused her when he was trapped in the cave and everything else she must have gone through waiting for him to be rescued. But with Michaela so upset and apparently done talking to him for the night, he feared his chance to make things right with her had passed. He raised his hands to his shirt and unbuttoned it, slipping it over his head. Then, tentatively, he took a few steps towards her as she put her nightgown on and slid her arms into the sleeves.

He paused, laying his shirt on the end of the bed and grasping her hair, tucked firmly beneath the soft cotton. "Let me get that," he murmured, lifting her hair up from beneath the nightgown and off her neck.

"Thank you," she murmured uncomfortably, turning to face him and reluctantly meeting his eyes. Suddenly, she let out a soft cry, threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, kissing him passionately.

Sully fell back a step and then regained his balance, grasping her waist.

"Sully, I was terrified," she said, tears falling down her cheeks. She showered his face with more kisses, raising her leg and wrapping it around his. "I was terrified."

"I know," he whispered, caressing her hair. "I'm so sorry." Weakening at her touch, he backed up to the bed and fell onto it helplessly, holding Michaela closer as she pushed him down on the bed and claimed his lips again.

"Oh, Sully. I thought it was over," she murmured, caressing his hair and giving him another fervent kiss. "I just need to feel us together. Now."

"Me, too," he said hoarsely, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "You're so beautiful, Michaela. I'm sorry."

"No. I'm sorry," she whispered, caressing his hand with hers. She brought it to her lips, kissing it. "I'm sorry I can't be the way you want me to be."

"What're ya talkin' about?" he said, smoothing her hair. "I want ya just the way ya are."

She shook her head. "I can't get along with anyone here. And somehow you and I always end up arguing about it."

"We've always argued," he said wryly. "Comes with the territory when two people like us get together." He gently tickled her cheek. "But the good thing about arguin' is we get to make up afterwards, hm?"

"...Yes...I suppose you're right," she said softly, bringing her lips back to his and burying her fingers in his hair.

continue