Mollie drew the blankets up to her chin as she stared up at the top of the small tent the men had set up. Katie slept soundly across from her while everyone else slept outside in front of the campfire. She drew in her breath in a startled gasp as the wind rattled the tree branches and blew stray leaves and twigs against the tent.
She glanced at Katie as a lone coyote howled in the distance, an owl hooted as it hunted nearby and various other critters scurried across the forest floor. How the little girl could sleep through all the frightening noises of the night Mollie didn't know.
With a determined sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on falling asleep despite all of nature's distractions.
Suddenly, Byron flipped back the entrance to the tent and ran inside, out of breath and sweat clinging to his hairline. He shook Mollie's arm frantically, bursting into tears.
Mollie sat up with a start as Byron's tears intensified.
"Mama," he whimpered. "Mama!"
"Oh, Byron," she murmured, immediately taking him in her arms. "What's wrong? It's Mollie, Byron. What happened?"
He sniffled and hugged her neck tightly. "Mollie. I had a b-bad dream."
"Hush now. Hush. You're all right," Mollie soothed, settling him in her lap and rubbing his back. "Now, tell me about this dream."
Katie slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. After a moment, she stood up and walked over, sitting down beside her brother and watching him as he wiped away his tears modestly.
"It was a monster. With teeth. Sharp ones," he said.
"Oh, dear," Mollie replied. "No wonder that upset you. I think I'd be frightened, too."
He leaned forward and hugged her again, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. "You smell almost just like her."
"And look like her a little," Katie added quietly.
"Like Auntie? Oh, darlings," she murmured, caressing Katie's cheek. "You must really miss her."
"Mollie, could we call you Mama until our real mama gets back?" Byron asked, resting his head against her shoulder.
"Yeah, could we please?" Katie added.
"But I'm just Mollie," she replied, stroking Byron's hair. "And besides, Auntie's going to be back before you know it."
Byron shook his head. "Mama always goes hikin' with us. Except she didn't come this time. I think maybe that means she's not comin' back."
"Nonsense," Mollie admonished. "Why wouldn't she come back? I'll tell you what. When this little excursion of ours out here is over, I'm going to send her a telegram. I'll tell her all the details of our trip, especially about you two learning to swim. She'll feel almost as if she were here with us. I don't care how long it is. I have money for it. How does that sound?"
"Better," Katie whispered. "But I still wish she was here."
Mollie sighed, wrapping her arm around her. "Yes, I know. I think she's probably been wishing the same thing. She'll be home soon. I promise."
Mollie squinted her eyes in the bright sunshine as she pulled back the flap of the tent and stepped outside. She stretched her arms in front of her and then slipped on her lace gloves, walking over to the campfire where everyone was gathered.
"Mornin'," Sully spoke up as he handed Katie a plate and a fork and sat down beside her with his own meal.
"Mollie!" Byron shouted, putting his plate on the ground and running to her. He hugged her waist tightly, closing his eyes.
"Well, good morning to you, too," she replied, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him fondly. "What do you have cooking for breakfast? Steak and eggs? Oatmeal?"
"Trout," Galen told her with a smile, wiping his chin with a napkin.
She slowly sat down on a log and took a tin plate from Brian, staring at the fried pieces of fish disbelievingly. Byron immediately grabbed his plate and rushed back to sit next to her.
"Pa and I caught 'em early this mornin'," Brian explained. "They're real tasty."
"Oh, and you skinned them, too," she said, picking at the food with her fork. "How lovely."
"You wanna learn how, Mollie?" Brian asked. "I could teach ya. It's easy."
"How to skin fish?" she blurted. "No, thank you. The very thought makes me...ill." She reluctantly took a bite of her meal, swallowing hard. "Delicious. It's just I never had fish for breakfast!"
"Gotta eat what the land provides out here," Galen remarked.
"Finish up," Sully said, scraping the last of the fish from his plate. "We're gonna go out to see some more of the trees this mornin'."
"More hiking?" Mollie replied hesitantly. "I don't know about that."
"Please, Mollie. Ya gotta come," Byron said, wrapping his hands around her arm. "Please."
She glanced down at her feet, wincing ever so slightly. "I seem to have developed a bit of a blister from our long walk out here the other day."
"Ah, that happens to the best of us," Galen said. "Best thing to do is wrap her up and press on."
"Too bad Ma ain't here," Brian said quietly. "She could look at it."
"I'll look at it for ya," Sully said, standing up. "Wrap it up too if ya want. Take off your shoe and stockin'."
She immediately shook her head. "Thank you, Mr. Sully, but I'm not sure that's very...well, appropriate. Perhaps you could give me some strips of cloth and I'll do it myself."
"Then you'll come with us," Brian said with a smile.
"Yes, if you're going," she murmured, the thought of waiting back at camp alone while everyone else explored the woods not very appealing. She handed her plate back to Brian. "It was good, but I'm not hungry."
Galen rose and gathered the plates and forks for washing. "We have the whole day ahead of us. Let's make use of it. Take care of your foot, Miss. We leave in ten minutes."
Tiredly, Dora Mae helped the youngest of her sons sit up in bed as Michaela lifted his nightshift and pressed the bell of her stethoscope to his back. The little boy let out another wet cough, the force of it inciting tears in his eyes.
Michaela finally sat back, pulled the stethoscope from her ears and picked up a cup. "Let's keep giving him the burdock tea."
"Is he gettin' better, Dr. Mike?" Dora Mae asked worriedly.
"Yes, slowly," Michaela replied. "But I want to continue monitoring both of them very carefully." Suddenly Sarah burst into the room, out of breath, wisps of hair falling into her face from running. "Dr. Mike!" Michaela immediately stood up. "What's wrong, Sarah?" "It's Jack. Miz Dorothy said come fetch ya right away! Hurry!" "Oh, no," Michaela murmured, panic immediately gripping her throat as she followed the young woman out of the room and downstairs. She had been so careful not to expose the baby to the epidemic. To think he could be coming down with chickenpox too despite all her efforts made her feel more than helpless. She didn't know how she could manage to take care of him and the patients at the clinic as well, and moreover, she preferred that he have it once he was at least a few years old, especially after what had happened to Cameron McCain.
Michaela lifted her skirts as she and Sarah brushed past the dwindling line of patients in front of the clinic and ran down the street to the Gazette.
"He's in here," Sarah said, gesturing inside as Michaela flung open the door, out of breath.
"Jack!" Michaela cried frantically.
Dorothy was standing in front of her printing press, the baby on his feet, giggling and holding onto her hands tightly. "Michaela, look!" she exclaimed. "He's tryin' to walk!"
Michaela let out her breath in a relieved sigh, clutching the doorframe. "Dorothy, you frightened me half to death!"
Dorothy chuckled. "I'm sorry. I didn't want ya to miss it. Come on, Jack. Walk to your ma."
Michaela stooped to the baby's level and held out her arms. "Are you sure he's ready for this?"
"He's ready," Dorothy replied. "He's been tryin' all afternoon."
Jack wrinkled up his brow, thrust one leg forward unsteadily and fell into his mother's embrace with a boisterous giggle.
"You did it!" Michaela exclaimed, lifting him into the air and kissing him proudly. "Sweetheart, you walked!"
Dorothy and Sarah clapped enthusiastically as they gathered around Michaela and the baby and fussed over him.
"I had no idea he was ready to walk," Michaela said, kissing him again. "This is such a surprise! Jack, why didn't you tell me?"
"Babies only walk when they get it into their heads they want to," Dorothy said. "I remember no matter how much I tried to get my Tommy to stand up and do it, nothin' worked, until one day I turned my back and Marcus was callin' me sayin' come get the baby 'cause he's runnin' out the door!"
"Sully," Michaela said downheartedly. "He missed it."
"You'll have to wire him the news," Dorothy said.
Michaela forced a small smile. "Yes. I think I'll do that right now."
"Oh, he's gonna be so pleased, Dr. Mike," Sarah remarked with a grin.
Dorothy chuckled. "He's gonna be thrilled!"
"Brian's a fine boy. Very astute," Galen remarked as he and Sully rested near the grassy banks of the creek.
Brian and the rest of the children were gathered nearby, measuring and counting the rings of a giant sequoia that had fallen after being struck by lightning several years before. Brian was helping the younger children use their magnifying glasses to peer closely at the rings while Mollie watched from a safe distance away.
"That he is," Sully said, resting his back against a tree. "Makes us real proud."
"How does he feel about you staying on here?" Galen inquired. "Is he happy about it?"
"I ain't sure," Sully said, gazing at the young man pensively. "I know he likes it here. He likes makin' observations and is real good at puttin' them into words. But I don't know if he's ready to give up Colorado Springs for good. Maybe he don't know either."
"Is that the reason Mrs. Sully really left?" Galen asked quietly, turning a bright green blade of grass in his fingers. "She may not be able to give it up?"
Taken aback, Sully slowly drew in his breath. He thought he had done a good job of hiding how concerned he was about Michaela being away. Galen, however, had seen right through his act. "Maybe," he finally whispered.
Galen cleared his throat, feeling a need to step in and try to help Sully. He had become much more than just another construction worker to him. Galen had developed a deep fondness and respect for him.
"Sully, forgive me for intruding, but are the two of you...well, are you all right?" he asked.
Sully glanced at him uncomfortably. "We're fine."
"Yes of course," he went on. "It's just, it's asking quite a lot of her, to live here. It no doubt overwhelmed her."
Sully folded his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "That's why she needs to go home and think about it."
"I see," Galen replied.
"You ever been married, Mr. Clark?" Sully asked.
"Twice actually," he replied. "My wife is back at our cabin right now."
"She's here?" Sully said. "I never seen her."
"And she doesn't see me, at least not very often. The bears have probably had more encounters with me than Isabella has, that's the problem," Galen said. "She's unhappy, I know that. And I wouldn't blame her if she gets tired of putting up with me. As for my first wife...Rebecca passed on many years ago. I left the five children she gave me behind when I came out here. I've made a real mess of things, Sully. I have many regrets."
"I'm sorry," Sully whispered.
"Oh, it's my fault," Galen said, folding his arms. "I love this land, I admire anyone that feels the same. But it sure would be nice to share that with a woman, with a family. Perhaps...I made a mistake in loving the land too much. Yosemite is precious. But...so is family. Somehow I couldn't manage to hang onto both."
"I best get our fishin' poles," Sully said quickly. "Get a start catchin' us some lunch."
"Wait, Sully," Galen said, grasping his arm and stilling him. "About her being away. There's something I wanted to ask you."
"What's that?"
"I'm going to Sacramento next week," he explained. "I usually take the train out there every few months if I can manage. I talk with senators and representatives, keep them abreast of progress in the park. And, well, I was wondering if you would like to come along."
"Ya want me to come to the capital?" Sully asked disbelievingly.
"Yes, that's what I said. You're well versed in what's happening here. What's more, you have a sincere passion for this land that I haven't seen in most of the other workers. You speak well on your feet, especially when you're talking about something you truly care about. I think you'd make a fine impression."
"I'm honored ya want me along, Mr. Clark," Sully said.
"I depart out of Fresno next Monday to return the following Friday," Galen said. "It's up to you if you'd like to join me. If you can make arrangements for your children."
"I'll tell Michaela," Sully replied. "Epidemic should be windin' down. I'm hopin' she'll be back here by then, can stay with the kids."
"Good. I hope so, too," Galen said. "This trip would be beneficial for you. Perhaps you need some time away to think as well?"
Sully shrugged as Katie ran over to him, followed closely behind by the other children. He lifted her up as she burst into giggles.
"Ya finish measurin' the tree, Kates?" he asked.
"Yep! Papa, that tree is a thousand-three-hundred-fifty-nine years old!" she said.
Brian opened his notebook. "It's about ninety inches around and about two-hundred and sixty feet long."
"Believe it or not, that's fairly young for a sequoia," Galen remarked.
Byron walked up to his father, holding Mollie's hand and dragging her along. "I helped count the rings, Papa."
Mollie let out a tired sigh. "It was a daunting task and we're all famished. When will we be eating lunch?"
"Soon as I can catch us somethin'," Sully replied with a smile. "Then we can keep hikin'."
"More fish?" Mollie murmured distastefully. "More hiking?"
"Yep. Come on, Byron," Sully replied, holding out his hand to the little boy. "Help me bait my hook."
Byron clutched Mollie's hand tighter, looking up at her. "Mollie, you gonna come, too?"
Mollie drew in her breath. "Heavens no. I can't stand the thought of that poor worm. Or all those poor fish for that matter. I'll wait here."
"All right. I'll wait with ya, Mollie," Brian offered, stepping toward her.
"Me, too," Byron said quickly.
Sully glanced at Brian and Mollie, sensing they might want some time alone. "You come with us, Byron, all right?"
Byron turned his back to his father and rested his head again Mollie's stomach. "No, Papa. I keep Mollie company."
Mollie stroked back the little boy's hair. As much as she would enjoy talking with Brian alone, Byron needed her and she hated to turn him away. "That's very considerate of you, Byron. Thank you."
Confused, Sully gave Byron's hair a gentle tousle. "All right, son. You stay here then. We'll bring ya back some good lunch."
Michaela closed her eyes as she listened intently to Isaiah's chest. He was sitting on her examination table, the last traces of the rash and sores that had once so fiercely marked his skin healing quickly.
"Am I all better, Dr. Mike?" the little boy asked.
"Yes, I believe so," she replied, pulling back. "But what's important is do you feel better?"
He nodded vigorously. "A lot better. Ma's right. You're the only doc that could fix us."
"Yeah," Dalton spoke up, seated at the opposite end of the table. "You did good, Dr. Mike."
"I'm glad I could help," Michaela replied with a grin, turning to face Simon. He was standing safely back in the corner of the room, arms folded as he watched her work. "Dr. Willard? Perhaps you'd like to listen, too?"
He waved his hand uncomfortably.
"It can't hurt to have a second opinion," Michaela added.
He slowly crossed the room, letting out a sigh and taking her stethoscope. "If you insist, Dr. Quinn." He quickly pressed it to each boy's chest, wrinkling his brow. "Indeed. They seem fully cured. I have to admit I...well, I never expected that concoction you were giving them to make a difference. Well done."
"I can't take the credit. It was an old friend who taught me," she replied. "Simon, there's a parcel of gumdrops in the top drawer of my desk. Could you share that with these young men while I go upstairs and let Dora Mae know they're ready to go home?"
The children's eyes lit up and they began squealing piercingly and bouncing impatiently on the table.
Simon watched them with slight irritation, raising one hand to his ear as he quickly walked to her desk. "Certainly," he muttered.
Michaela chuckled to herself as she opened the door and climbed the stairs. She slowed her steps when she heard Dora Mae and Grace talking in hushed tones as they made up the recovery room bed with fresh sheets.
"How else we gonna pay the doc?" Dora Mae went on as Michaela walked down the hallway.
"I'm sorry," Grace replied. "I just can't afford to take on another girl."
"It would only be for a little while," Dora Mae pleaded. "She could work for a few weeks till we set aside enough to give Dr. Mike somethin' decent for all she's done for us. Please, Miz Grace. Ya've always been so good to us."
"The best I can do is let ya know when I'm hirin' again," Grace replied. "With you and the others, I already got enough girls workin' in the café. Believe me I want to take her on. I'm sure if she's your daughter she's just as hard a worker."
"Oh, she is!" Dora Mae said. "She's sound and quick on her feet."
"I'll let you know," Grace murmured. "In the meantime, you'll have to figure out somethin' else."
"We've looked and looked. We can't find her one bit of work in this town," Dora Mae said downheartedly. "Nobody can, lessen it's at your café."
"I'm sorry," Grace whispered.
Michaela stepped into the doorway, clearing her throat. "I don't mean to interrupt. The boys are ready to leave now."
Dora Mae pulled a pillowcase onto a pillow and patted it firmly. "Oh, Dr. Mike. That's good news!"
Michaela walked into the room, folding her hands. "I couldn't help but overhear. Do you know someone looking for work, Dora Mae?"
"That's right. My girl," she said awkwardly as she and Grace pulled the bedspread over the pillows.
"How old is she?" Michaela asked.
"She's fifteen," Dora Mae replied. "Oh, but she don't seem fifteen. She works real hard at whatever ya ask her to do as good as somebody twice her years."
"Would she enjoy looking after children?" Michaela went on. "Does she have experience?"
"Plenty, ma'am," Dora Mae said enthusiastically. "She done nearly raised up my younger ones herself while I was workin' at the café."
"Somebody lookin' for a babysitter, Dr. Mike?"
Michaela smiled. "Yes. Me."
"You?" Grace blurted.
"For Jack of course while I'm at the clinic," Michaela explained. "Dora Mae, why don't you bring your daughter here tomorrow morning and we'll talk. I pay twenty-five cents a day if you think that's fair."
"Two bits!" Dora Mae exclaimed.
Grace slowly stepped forward, confusion all across her face. "But the epidemic's over, Dr. Mike."
"I know," Michaela replied, lowering her eyes. "I just want to stay here for a little while longer and make certain there isn't a reoccurrence. I appreciate your help with the baby, Grace, but I know you have a café to run." She quickly spun around and walked to the door. "And I have a clinic to run. Let's get you and your boys home, Dora Mae. I think they're quite ready to be out of here!"
Michaela's thoughts drifted to Sully and the children as she sat on the porch, a bowl in her lap, and absently tore the stems off a pile of green beans. The baby was on a blanket next to her, playing with his toy buggy. Despite the numerous telegrams she had sent and received, she still felt so far away from everyone. The homestead was eerily silent, without the sound of Sully chopping wood out front, Brian changing the water in the corral and Katie and Byron giggling and teasing each other inside at the table as they pretended to do their schoolwork.
She glanced down at the large pile of beans. She had bought far too many of them. Out of habit, she continued to prepare too much food for just she and the baby to eat. Living in Yosemite, she had become so used to cooking everything in large amounts, enough to feed Sully and Brian's ravenous appetites, the growing appetites of the younger children and a little left over should Galen Clark or another visitor stop by.
Michaela was grateful to have at least the baby with her. His giggles and shouts were familiar and comforting. Even so, Jack had been strangely quiet and listless for the past few days. After being part of a bustling cabin for most of his life, Michaela suspected the sudden calm was disconcerting for him as well.
"Jack!" Michaela suddenly exclaimed, her reverie abruptly interrupted.
The baby had hoisted himself to his feet and was tottering dangerously close to the porch stairs. He smiled wide at his mother and took another step in the direction of the stairs.
"Jack, no! Be careful!" Michaela called, placing the bowl of beans on the bench and running to his side.
Startled, the baby stopped and looked up at her, waving his arms.
"Sweetheart, you're finding trouble wherever you go. Mama can't keep up with you!" Michaela scolded good-naturedly. "Would you like to take a walk? Would you like that? Come here."
The baby hesitated for a moment longer, then reached his arms up with a giggle.
Michaela lifted him off the porch, pressing her cheek to his. "Mmm, yes, let's take a walk. We can clear our heads together."
She strolled around to the side of the homestead where the first few blossoms of spring were beginning to open. She placed the baby on his feet and knelt down, gathering some posies.
"Here, Jack," she said, placing them in his hand. "You can help me. It'll be nice to have flowers on our table again."
Disconcerted, the baby dropped the flowers to the ground and cried out impatiently.
"Jack, what's wrong?" Michaela asked, picking up the posies. "You love flowers, remember? You like their colors and their sweet smell. Jack, look. Look at the flowers."
The baby whimpered forlornly, reaching one hand up to rub his eyes.
"Oh, sweetheart," Michaela murmured. She let go of the flowers and picked him up again, rubbing his back. "Shh. It's all right. What's wrong? Oh."
Jack fell into quiet sobs, curling up against Michaela as tears slipped down his cheeks.
Michaela rocked him, hugged him and kissed him, to no avail. When Jack was colicky back at the cabin, Brian would pull out his harmonica and play him a tune to soothe him. Katie would sing to him with her sweet, tiny voice. Even Byron would generously offer up some of his favorite toys on the condition that Jack promise to return them later.
"I'm afraid I can't play the harmonica, Jack," Michaela whispered, stroking his hair. "Nor do I sing very well or have any toys to let you borrow. You miss your brothers and sister. That's what's wrong. They care about you so very much. More than I ever could have imagined before you were born. They're so wonderful with you."
Jack rubbed his eyes again and continued to cry.
"You miss Brian and Katie and Byron, don't you?" Michaela went on. "Oh, I miss them, too. So much."
Jack quickly raised his head, recognizing the names and perking up. He gazed at Michaela anxiously for a long moment, as if expecting the children to appear, then suddenly his tears resumed with greater intensity.
"Shh, don't worry, sweetheart," Michaela soothed. "I'm going to figure something out. I'll find a way to bring us together again. Somehow."
The children watched Mollie eagerly, Byron sitting next to her and Katie resting on her side under the covers.
"The prince kissed Snow White and she instantly awakened," Mollie went on with a smile. "'My prince,' she said. He boosted her onto his white horse and they rode off to the castle where they married and lived happily ever after. The end."
Katie smiled reverently. "That's my favorite story."
"You tell that one just like Mama does," Byron added. "Nice and long with all the good parts."
"I'm glad you liked it," Mollie replied.
"Tell another one," Katie said. "About Cinderella this time."
"I think that's enough stories for tonight," she said, standing up and retrieving a towel and bar of soap from her carpetbag. "You two need to get to bed and I need to wash in the creek after all that hiking we did."
"I'll come with ya, Mollie," Byron immediately said, rising to his feet.
"Byron," Mollie replied hoarsely. " ... Byron, it's very sweet of you to want to come. But I'm nineteen and you're six, correct? It's just not appropriate. I'm going to need a little privacy." She kissed his head lovingly. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning and I'll tell you another story, all right?"
Byron thought for a moment, then nodded. "All right."
"Goodnight, darlings," she said with a smile, opening the tent flap.
Byron watched her go as he walked over to his older brother, looking up at him pensively. Brian was drying the last of the supper dishes as Galen and Sully talked quietly in front of the fire. Finally, Brian stacked the plates and glanced at the little boy.
"B.? What's wrong?"
Byron scratched his nose. "I think Mollie wants you to go down to the creek."
Brian cleared his throat. "She does? Why?"
"She said privacy," Byron explained. "When Mama says privacy that means her and Papa want alone time. Somebody better go do privacy with Mollie and she said I couldn't 'cause it's a bath and she's nineteen and I'm too little just yet."
Brian slowly blinked, clearing his throat again. "You sure she wants me to come down?"
"Pos-tive," Byron said, taking a seat on the log.
Brian slowly handed him the plates and towel and walked down to the creek, spotting Mollie wading at the water's edge in her camisole and pantaloons. He watched silently as she rubbed the cool water down her arms in the moonlight, softly humming to herself.
Finally, Brian took another step forward, snapping some twigs on the ground. "Mollie? Ya all right?"
Mollie turned with a gasp, dropping the soap in the water and folding her arms across her chest. "Brian! What are you doing?"
He stared at the ground modestly and stepped to the edge of the water. "B. said you were askin' for me."
"I did no such thing," she retorted. She watched him for a moment. "But...I'm glad you came. We haven't had much time to ourselves...as I'd hoped."
"Time to ourselves?" Brian replied hoarsely. "What for?"
She reached for a towel on shore, wrapped it tightly around her and stepped out of the water. Then she walked up to Brian, reached her hands up around his neck and drew his lips to hers fervently. "Yes, that's more like it," she whispered. "Don't misunderstand. I love your little brother and sister and it's so adorable the way they've taken to me. But you're the reason I came here. To see you, get to know you some more."
"You came just to see me," Brian echoed, overwhelmed as he thought of Sarah. His feelings for her were still very strong, even though they had called everything off, but Sarah was hundreds of miles away and it wasn't easy to resist Mollie's straight-forwardness and charm. Sarah always used to wait for him to take her hand or kiss her. Having Mollie so eager to take the initiative was new and different and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He was beginning to think that Mollie and Sarah were a lot less alike than he had thought.
"Oh, you're a wonderful kisser," Mollie said, caressing his cheek. "It's so nice to be treated like a lady."
"I am?" Brian blurted. "I mean, I am. I mean-"
Mollie glanced down with a chuckle, her eyes suddenly widening as she spotted a dark brown smudge of something on her calf. She brushed at it quickly, letting out a cry when it didn't come off.
"Brian! Brian, something's on my leg!" she cried, swiping at the creature harder.
Brian squatted down. "Wait, don't pull it. It's a leach. We gotta put salt on it."
"Uh, I'm going to faint," she replied, pressing one hand to her head.
"No, don't faint," Brian said, grabbing her arm. "It won't hurt ya, Mollie. Hang on and I'll be right back with some salt." He ran up the bank back to camp, digging through the satchel of provisions.
Galen and Sully rose to their feet and watched the young man dump out the supplies until he found a tin of salt.
"Brian? Somethin' wrong?" Sully finally spoke up.
Brian looked up briefly. "What? No. Nothin's wrong."
Byron grabbed hold of Sully's hand and smiled. "Don't worry, Papa. He and Mollie just want privacy."
"Privacy?" Sully echoed uncertainly, stepping forward.
Brian reddened, clutching the salt to his chest. "We're fine, Pa. I'll be right back." He hurried back down to the creek and returned to Mollie's side, opening the tin.
"Hurry. Get it off me," she said as Brian opened the tin and doused the leach with salt. Within a few seconds, the parasite shriveled and fell to the ground.
"There ya are," Brian said. "It's gone."
Tears slipped down Mollie's cheeks. "I quit."
"Quit what?" Brian asked.
"This...this trip!" she exclaimed. "I tried, Brian. I truly did. I said to myself, Mollie, he came to the city and did things with you, now you go to the country and do things with him. But it seems the harder I try the harder it becomes. There's insects crawling all over everything, including me, there's wolves and coyotes and bears lurking everywhere waiting to eat us, I'm sleeping on dirt and grass, though more accurately not sleeping, and for heaven's sake I have to bring along a shovel every time I have to...have to...every time I require a commode! I don't know how on earth Auntie went from Boston to this."
"Mollie, I never said ya had to come along," Brian replied, taken aback.
"I had no choice. I have to do things that you like to do for us to work."
"Us?" Brian blurted. "Mollie...there isn't any...us."
She swallowed hard. "But there could be."
Brian took her hands with a soft sigh. "Listen, I'm glad ya came along. I like spendin' time with ya. And, well, I do like kissin' ya."
"I like kissing you," she replied.
"But that's all it is," Brian went on. "Just kissin'. We don't really...really feel anythin' when we do it. At least not anythin' like love."
"Oh, so now you're telling me what I feel," she retorted defensively.
Brian quickly shook his head. "No. I don't mean to do that. But I am tryin' to tell ya how I feel. I...I care about somebody else. She's back in Colorado Springs."
"Why didn't you tell me?" she said, devastation sweeping across her face. "You used me, Brian Cooper!"
"No," he protested. "This girl, we ain't a couple. At least not anymore. That's why I didn't tell ya right away. But now I realize she still means a lot to me. We were together a long time and I can't give up on her yet."
"But she's so far away. And you and I are here," she said weakly.
"It's been real hard with the distance between us," he replied, nodding. "But she's worth the effort. Even if the rest of my family stays here, I made my decision. I'm goin' back to Colorado Springs next month."
A wave of tears fell down her cheeks. "I understand. You love someone else."
He gently squeezed her hands. "That's what I gotta find out. Maybe it won't work out. Who knows. Mollie, aside from Sarah, you're the prettiest girl I ever met. You're easy to talk to, you're interested in the same things I am and I like ya a lot." He swiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "Ya think we could write to each other? As cousins? As friends?"
"I suppose so," she murmured, swallowing hard.
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Let's try to have a good time our last few days. I'm gonna miss ya when ya go back home."
She smiled. "All right. I'll try."
Children bustled hurriedly past Michaela on their way out of the schoolhouse as she walked up the stairs. A few of the youngest children collided into her, giggling as they broke away and ran to the meadow, books slung over their shoulders. Michaela grinned and stepped inside, shutting the door after the last few students. "Mrs. Slicker? May I speak with you?"
Teresa was standing in front of the blackboard, cleaning it with a towel. Her desk was cleared off and covered with a large patched cloth. Various clay figures were lined up on the old cloth to dry.
"Dr. Quinn," Teresa called, turning from the board. "Please, come in."
Michaela spotted one of the youngest boys standing patiently in the corner near the stove, hands clasped behind his back.
Teresa followed her gaze. "Benjamin? You may go home now."
Ben quickly turned, a few rapidly healing blisters marking his cheeks. "Yes, ma'am!"
"It's good to see you're looking so much better, Ben," Michaela remarked as he quickly gathered his slate and schoolbooks from his desk.
"And back to his...usual self," Teresa remarked, a small trace of a smile at her lips.
"I wanted to ask how all the children have been doing their first week back in school," Michaela said as Ben shut the door after him.
"Attendance is still lower than usual," Teresa replied, taking a seat at her desk. "But new faces return here every day." She folded her hands. "I am so grateful you insisted we close the school. Some of the children never came down with the chickenpox. I believe the town council acted just in time."
"Good. I'm glad." Michaela glanced over the various clay figures on the desk. "What are your students doing with the clay?"
"I ordered it from Denver," Teresa explained. "I asked the children to make their favorite animal. They will take these back to their homes when they dry."
Michaela smiled as she made out several horses, along with a few cows, dogs and cats. "Oh, Byron would have liked to do this," she remarked.
"Yes, he would have," Teresa said in agreement. "Sit down, Dr. Quinn. Tell me about your school in Yosemite."
Michaela reluctantly sunk into the front bench, dropping her hands in her lap. "Well...I've been trying my best to keep them up with the other students. We read all the books you sent us with. And we've had a good time studying the plants and animals near our cabin."
"You are having them apply what they are learning," Teresa said. "That is one of the best ways to teach. It sounds like it went well."
Michaela absently picked up a stray slate resting on the bench beside her. "It didn't go well. It didn't go well at all, Mrs. Slicker."
Perplexed, Teresa rose to her feet. "Why do you say that? They read all the books."
Michaela shook her head. "I...I couldn't teach like you do. You engage them in a way I couldn't. You're patient with them. I'm afraid I wasn't. At least not as much as I should have been. School became something we all grew to dread." She glanced around the room at the shelves filled with books, the names listed on the blackboard with stars of achievement written next to them, and the various pieces of artwork hanging across the walls, including paintings Teresa had kept up of Katie and Byron's.
"They just wanted you, Mrs. Slicker," Michaela finally said, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"Oh, now, Dr. Quinn," Teresa murmured. "I am sure you did the best that you could."
Michaela quickly stood up and turned away.
"If they are behind, then I will just have to catch them up again," Teresa said reassuringly, walking towards her. "They are bright children. They will be fine."
Michaela nodded, inhaling shakily.
"What is wrong?" Teresa asked softly, stepping closer.
"It's nothing," Michaela murmured.
"Something must have happened," Teresa persisted.
Michaela glanced up at a painting Byron had made of the homestead. "I suppose it's just...being back in here makes me miss them all the more."
"Oh. I see," Teresa replied, swallowing. "You have been apart for some time. When will you go back to them?"
Michaela closed her eyes. "I don't know."
"You must send for them," Teresa said resolutely.
"I must admit I've considered that. It's just not that simple," Michaela whispered, reluctantly turning back around to face her. "Do you think it's the right thing to do?"
"Of course it's the right thing to do. Children should be with their mother," Teresa said encouragingly. "If you cannot go back to them, you must send them to you. Send for them, Dr. Quinn. Bring them home."
"Look right there, son. See him up there?" Galen said, wrapping his arm around Byron and pointing up at the trees. "Watch."
"Do they really fly, Mr. Clark?" Katie asked, shielding her eyes from the sun.
"You bet they do," Galen said. "They can make leaps as far as the length of ten men put together."
"They don't exactly fly, Katie," Brian said, pulling out his notebook and making a few notes. "They glide."
"How long are we going to watch for these famous squirrels?" Mollie spoke up tiredly, resting her back against a nearby tree. "We must have been here an hour."
"Won't be much longer," Galen said, pulling out a small brass telescope from his breast pocket and stretching it out. "There you are, Byron. Look up at the trees through this."
"Have you ever seen a squirrel fly, Papa?" Katie asked, walking over to him and taking his hand.
"Can't say as I have," Sully said. "This'll be a first for me, too."
"How big are flyin' squirrels, Mr. Clark?" Brian asked, pen poised over his notebook.
"Not very big at all, son," Galen replied. "About four hundred millimeters at the most."
"Where do they live?" Brian asked as he wrote.
"Oh, they're real scamps," he said. "Usually you'll find them raising their families in an old woodpecker nest or other abandoned hole. In fact right now is just about when the females should be beginning to birth their litters."
"Mr. Clark, really!" Mollie spoke up, pressing her hand to her chest with embarrassment. "Well, it's getting quite late. Perhaps we should think about turning in for the night?"
"There! Look there!" Galen shouted, pointing up at the trees as a furry, shadowy creature made a giant leap and sailed gracefully from one forest tree to another. "Did you see it?"
"I saw it! I saw it!" Byron exclaimed, suddenly out of breath. "Whoa! Papa, you see that?"
Sully patted his back. "Sure did. That was pretty amazin', wasn't it?"
"That distance must have been sixty feet," Brian said, speedily writing in his notebook. "Let's go measure it."
"Let's go!" Byron shouted, breaking away from the group and running ahead.
"So they truly do fly!" Mollie said. "And all this time I thought you were exaggerating, Mr. Clark!"
"Me? Exaggerate?" he replied. "Never."
"Papa!" Byron suddenly cried.
Sully immediately turned, startled to find Byron collapsed on his knees, gasping with all his might for air. He ran toward him and fell beside him, frantically clutching his arm. "What is it, Byron? An attack?"
Byron dropped Galen's telescope to the ground and nodded. "I can't breathe."
"Brian!" Sully called. "Get his chloroform! It's back in the tent!"
Sully stood the little boy on his feet and raised his arms in the air. "Breathe short breaths, Byron. You can do this. You're all right."
"It's a bad one," Byron said, eyes tearing from the strain.
Sully rubbed his back, watching helplessly. "I know. Brian's gettin' your medicine."
Mollie tentatively approached, Katie following close behind her. "Mr. Sully? Is there something I can do? Tell me how I can help."
"Mollie!" Byron choked, stretching one hand in her direction plaintively.
Perplexed, Mollie slowly took it. "I'm here. I'm here, Byron."
"Mollie, don't leave me," he whispered, squeezing her hand. "Don't leave till it goes away."
"Oh, I won't," Mollie said, caressing his hair. "I'm here. You're going to be fine."
"His ma's always here for these," Sully whispered, swallowing. "She's always here holdin' his hand when this happens."
Mollie squeezed her cousin's hand all the harder. "I'll stay with you, Byron. I promise."
"Sully," Galen spoke up hoarsely. "I thought the boy was cured. I thought...I thought the mountain air had cured him. As it did I."
"Helped. Not cured," Sully replied, quickly glancing up at him.
"He just needs more time. He needs to breathe some more fresh air!" Galen said.
"Yosemite can't fix him, Mr. Clark," Sully said impatiently. "We tried. It didn't work."
"Well, he's...he's going to be all right, isn't he?" Galen asked. "Brian's finding the medicine he needs."
Sully kissed his son's head lovingly. "He'll be fine. Maybe ya best get back to camp."
"Of course," Galen said quickly, turning around.
Sully watched him go, breathing a soft sigh. He was angry with Galen because Galen had forced him to face the truth. Yosemite wasn't a cure-all for Byron, just as it wasn't filling what was missing inside him since Michaela had left. Despite everything Galen had told him, Sully was still making the same mistake Galen had. He was still stubbornly hanging onto the land while Michaela lingered in Colorado Springs. He wasn't angry at Galen. Sully was angry at himself.
"Sure ya don't want a blanket, Mr. Clark?" Brian asked. "We got plenty."
Galen reclined down on his back and tucked his hands beneath his head. "No thank you, son. The earth can't be any harder than my own bones, that's what I always say."
Byron stood near his father and watched him build up the fire for the night. He turned and gazed at the tent pensively for a long moment. Finally, he walked to his bed decisively, picked up his blanket and hurried over to the tent.
Sully immediately rose to his feet. "Byron? Where ya goin'?"
Byron slowly turned. "I'm goin' to bed. It's gettin' late."
"That's Katie and Mollie's tent. Stay out here with us," he replied.
Byron inhaled bravely. "No," he said. "I'm sleepin' in there."
Sully grabbed his arm, drawing him towards him. "That's for the girls."
Byron pulled against his grasp. "Let me go! I'm sleepin' next to Mollie! Let me go!"
Brian and Galen turned to watch as the little boy glared at Sully defiantly.
Taken aback, Sully squatted down to his level, holding him still by the arms. "What's goin' on? Mollie's a nice girl, but everybody needs some space sometimes. Ya've been clingin' to her this whole trip."
"Have not," Byron protested weakly.
"Yes, ya have," Sully said insistently. "Tell me what's goin' on, Byron."
Tears welled in the little boy's eyes. "She smells pretty and has real soft kisses," he whispered.
Sully swallowed, searching his face. "She reminds ya of your ma."
Byron lowered his head. "Isn't she ever gonna come back, Papa?"
"She'll be back next week," he said, smoothing his hair. "Papa's gonna go on a trip with Mr. Clark. She's gonna come home to take care of ya while I'm gone. It won't be much longer."
"Promise?" he replied uncertainly.
Sully drew him into a hug. "Promise. It's all right to miss her. But I thought you'd want to sleep out here with us."
Mollie stepped out of the tent, clutching her bathrobe tightly to her chin. "Mr. Sully? I heard you talking. I don't mind if he sleeps in here. It's all right. Truly."
"Mollie!" Byron shouted, breaking free from Sully's grasp and hugging her waist.
"Ya sure about this?" Sully asked, getting back on his feet.
"He just misses her, that's all," she replied softly, stroking Byron's hair. "I don't see the harm in letting him stay inside the tent on our last night."
Sully patted the little boy's back. "All right. Ya take good care of our girls then, Byron."
"I will," Byron said, turning to face him and giving him a gentle hug.
"'Night, son," Sully whispered, kissing his cheek. He glanced up at Mollie. "Thank you."
Mollie smiled as Byron joined her and grabbed her hand. "You're welcome."
"It was just so strange," Grace remarked as she refilled Dorothy's coffee cup and then sat down beside her. "Why would Dr. Mike be lookin' to hire somebody for the baby when she knows she's gonna be goin' back soon?"
Dorothy sipped at her coffee pensively. "Did she say when she's goin' back?"
Grace rested her hands on the table. "No, but it must be soon. I can't figure how she's stayed apart from Sully and the children this long as it is. It's not like her to want to be away from them any longer than she has to."
"No, it's not," Dorothy agreed. "But I think I know why she's doin' this."
"Why?" Grace demanded.
Dorothy took a deep breath. "Sully wants to stay there, Grace."
"In Yosemite?" Grace exclaimed. "What do ya mean he wants to stay there? They're supposed to come back here end of next month."
"Yes, supposed to," Dorothy replied. "Michaela says Sully likes it so much he thinks they should all live there now. She walked away before I could ask her how she felt about that." She thought quietly for a moment, then continued on. "I don't wanna lose Michaela, or Sully and the children. But Sully does seem to really like the work. It seems he's real happy there. And from the way Michaela talks, it's a beautiful place to be."
Grace slowly nodded. "But livin' there, that's so permanent."
"I'm guessin' Michaela don't wanna go back because she ain't ready to face Sully," Dorothy remarked. "She's makin' excuses to say here, puttin' off decidin' what she wants to do."
"Well, she's gotta talk to him. Either he has to come here or she's gotta go back there," Grace said firmly.
"First thing is she has to admit somethin's wrong," Dorothy said. "She's been pretendin' she's nothin' but happy the whole time she's been here. But I can tell this is weighin' heavy on her mind."
"There she is now," Grace said, brightening into a smile as Michaela walked into the café.
Jake stood up from a nearby table, put on his hat and strolled over to Michaela. "Afternoon, Dr. Mike."
"Good afternoon, Jake," she replied.
"Hope ya won't be takin' off so soon," he said. "This town's really missed ya. Good thing you were here for that epidemic. Don't know what we woulda done without ya."
"Thank you, Jake. That means a lot," she said with a smile, waving at Dorothy and Grace and joining them at the table.
"Good afternoon," she said cheerfully.
"Hey, Dr. Mike," Grace replied. "Have a seat."
"I just saw my sixth patient of the afternoon," she said, pulling out a chair and sinking into it. "I must admit I'm proud to say business has really picked up since I've come home."
"That's good to hear," Dorothy said, eyeing her cautiously.
"Speaking of comin' home," Grace said, clearing her throat and nodding at Dorothy encouragingly.
Dorothy quickly shook her head at Grace, smiling a bit too enthusiastically at Michaela.
Michaela glanced between the two suspiciously. "Well, I need to pick up Jack."
"Michaela, wait," Dorothy said. "We need to talk to ya about somethin'. We both know about Sully wantin' to stay in Yosemite."
"I promised Jack I'd come get him right after work," she murmured. "He doesn't know Dora Mae's daughter yet. He's just getting used to her and he may be upset."
"Just for a minute, Dr. Mike," Grace said. "Please."
"We wanna know what's goin' on, Michaela, that's all," Dorothy said. "We're worried about you. We're so happy you and Jack are home. Everybody missed you. But what about the rest of the family?"
"We think you need to talk about this with Sully," Grace added.
"And say what to him?" Michaela replied softly.
Dorothy patted her hand. "Well, just tell 'em ya wanna talk about this move. Ya got a lot to consider. The clinic, this town."
"Finally Sully's happy and enjoying what he does, and I'm supposed to tell him that I don't think I can stay there," Michaela replied, eyes filling with tears. "That being back home, working at the clinic, has made me realize I don't think I can give up being a doctor, helping the sick, contributing to this town, sharing my talents with others in a way that was impossible when I was cooking and cleaning in Yosemite. I'm supposed to tell him I can't stay there because I can't teach our children out there, that I'm afraid they'll never get a proper education, or have any opportunities to experience things like museums, theaters, colleges—things I want them to be exposed to. And people. I'm frightened they'll never meet any children their own age, that eventually perhaps they won't even remember how to talk to and make friends with others. I'm supposed to tell Sully I don't know if I can spend another minute there?"
"Oh, Michaela. That's gotta be better than not sayin' anything," Dorothy said. "He must be so worried not knowin' when you're gonna be back."
Horace walked into the café with several sheets of paper in tow. Out of breath, he approached the table, immediately sinking into a chair.
"Afternoon, ladies. Telegram came for ya, Dr. Mike," he said. "One of the longest telegrams I ever seen."
Michaela took the sheets of paper from him with raised eyebrows. "Oh, from Mollie," she said with a smile.
"Who's Mollie, Michaela?" Dorothy asked.
"Whoever she is she must be real fond of ya to take the time to send somethin' so long. It must of cost ten dollars," Horace remarked.
"She's my niece," Michaela said proudly as she quickly read the telegram. "She's freelancing for ladies periodicals in San Francisco."
"What's it say?" Grace spoke up.
"She came to visit Yosemite," Michaela replied as she continued to read. "Sully and the children took her along on their trip to see the redwoods. It sounds like they had a good time." Her face suddenly sobered.
"What's wrong?" Dorothy asked. "Somethin' happen?"
Michaela cleared her throat. "No. She just says that the children miss me."
Dorothy patted her hand. "Of course they do."
"Byron and Katie have learned to swim. And Byron called Mollie...he called her Mama," Michaela went on quietly, her expression sinking even further.
"Oh, this came in, too," Horace said, handing her a smaller piece of paper. "From Sully."
Michaela quickly scanned the second telegram, her expression remaining unchanged.
"What's that one say, Dr. Mike?" Grace asked.
Michaela pressed her hand to her mouth pensively. Finally, she looked up at Horace. "Could you send a telegram back to him and tell him I can't come back yet? Ask him to send the children here if he has to go somewhere."
Horace cleared his throat, standing up. "Sure, Dr. Mike. Right away."
"Sully plannin' somethin'?" Grace asked.
Michaela folded her hands with a frustrated sigh. "He wants to go to Sacramento with a man that works in the park."
"Oh, that sounds nice," Dorothy said.
"He can't," Michaela said. "What about the children? He can't just leave them alone. Not for an entire week."
"He ask ya to come back?" Dorothy asked softly.
Michaela cleared her throat. "He can go to Sacramento another time. I have business to finish here."
"Dr. Mike, how long ya gonna go on like this?" Grace said, reaching across to grasp her hand. "The children miss ya, Sully misses ya. They made it pretty clear they want ya back with them."
"How much longer can ya stay apart from them?" Dorothy added. "Especially from the children."
"That's why I'm asking Sully to send them here," Michaela said briskly. "I miss them terribly. But if he wants to go to Sacramento he's going to have to send them here. I think Teresa's right. Children should be with their mother."
"Once the children are here with ya, ya'll have all the more reason to keep stayin' in Colorado," Dorothy said perceptively. "Michaela, you and Sully have got to come to some sort of compromise on this. And ya can't do that hundreds of miles away from each other."
"I'm sorry, I really need to go," Michaela said, quickly standing up.
"Michaela, ya've gotta start facin' the truth," Dorothy said pleadingly.
She inhaled deeply. "Dorothy, the truth is I'm not sure if I can go back."
Stunned, Dorothy and Grace glanced at each other, not knowing what more to say.
Michaela backed up, staring at her hands. "I'll see you in town. Goodbye."
Carrie leaned over Faye and propped up a Bible on the table, pointing at one of the verses. "Keep goin', child. You're doin' fine," she said.
Faye fixed her brow and focused hard on the words, clutching the worn leather of the Bible securely. "A s-soft...an...an-"
"Answer," Carrie said, squeezing the girl's shoulder encouragingly.
Faye bit her lip. "Answer. A soft answer turn-eth a...way...away...wra...wra..."
"Turneth away wrath," Carrie told her patiently.
Faye dropped the book to the table and let out a discouraged sigh. "I can't do this, Mrs. Donovan. Can't you read it to me like ya always done?"
"No, I won't," Carrie said stubbornly. "It's time ya learn. What if I ain't around and ya need the Almighty's help? Ya gotta be able to read it yourself." She pointed at the sentence again. "Now, pay attention. 'A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.' Now you try."
Faye stared up at the ceiling with frustration. "A soft answer turneth away-"
"Don't recite it, Faye," Carrie scolded. "Read it!"
Faye stood up, pushing away the Bible and walking to the hearth where Danielle was sleeping in her cradle. "I can't do it, Mrs. Donovan. Please. I really can't."
Carrie dropped her hands into her lap. "Learnin' takes time. But this is just how I taught my boys, and you're gonna catch on soon enough just like they did."
"What if I don't?" Faye replied, squatting down and tucking the baby's blanket securely around her. "Your boys got brains. Not like me."
"Malarkey! You got brains good as the rest of them!" Carrie exclaimed. "But ya gotta be patient. You do want to read, Faye, don't ya?"
Faye nodded, stroking the baby's cheek. "Oh, so much. I wanna read good as you and Dr. Mike. Then I can teach Danielle, so she'll be real smart just like all of your youn'uns are. But these words you're tryin' to teach are just too hard. I can't make sense of a one of them without help."
Carrie slowly closed the Bible. "Maybe you're right. Maybe these words are too big to start."
"I wouldn't blame ya if ya give up on me," Faye said downheartedly, rising to her feet and clasping her hands. "If I was you I woulda gave up on me ages ago."
"No, I ain't given up," Carrie said, standing up and clutching the Bible to her chest. "But...I think I might have me an idea."
"What's that?" Faye asked curiously.
Carrie crossed the room and put her arm around her reassuringly. "Give me a few days. I'll come back and then you're gonna learn how to read. Don't you worry."
"Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war," the congregation continued to sing, their voices echoing out the doors of the church and into the meadow. "With the cross of Jesus, going on before."
The reverend stepped up to the pulpit with a smile as he gazed forward. "That was beautiful. I'd like to end the service this mornin' by pointin' out one of Colorado Springs' very own Christian soldiers, right here in our congregation."
Michaela held Jack on her hip and patted his back as she glanced around the room. Matthew stood beside her and gazed at her with a wide smile, clasping his hat in his hands.
"We all know we've had a large epidemic among the children of this town," the reverend went on. "I think we all owe our doctor a lot of thanks for bringing it under control and workin' so hard to restore everybody's health."
Michaela eyed Matthew with embarrassment as townsfolk turned to glance at her, smile or nod.
"This town is so grateful to have you, Dr. Mike," the reverend said, pressing his hands to his Bible. "We appreciate everything you've done."
Michaela cleared her throat awkwardly as Tara McCain reached forward from the pew behind her and clasped her arm in a silent gesture of acknowledgment.
"Well, it wasn't all my doing, but I'm glad I could be here," Michaela spoke up shyly, glancing around the room. "And I'm very relieved your children recovered so well."
Tara McCain slowly began clapping her hands, and soon the entire congregation joined in.
"What we need to do is celebrate!" the reverend remarked over the applause.
Grace turned in her pew, her Sunday best bonnet tied snug beneath her chin. "Let's all go over and have a picnic lunch at the café! In Dr. Mike's honor!"
"Drinks on me," Hank drawled from the back of the room.
Michaela turned with a wry grin as Hank winked at her and walked out the door.
Matthew took Jack from Michaela and gave her cheek a quick kiss. "Good work, Dr. Mike. Let's go eat."
Brian opened the cabin door and stepped out onto the porch. His father was sitting on the bench, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at a small piece of paper.
"Katie and B. are clearin' the table and then they're gonna get ready for bed," Brian remarked, shutting the door and leaning against it.
Sully nodded without glancing up.
"Is that another telegram from Ma?" Brian asked.
Sully crumpled the paper in his hand and sighed. "Yeah."
"Is she comin' home?" Brian asked more quietly.
"She says she can't. She wants me to go to Sacramento another time."
Brian stepped forward and grabbed one of the posts of the porch. "What're ya gonna do, Pa?"
Sully folded his arms. "I already told Galen Clark I'd be comin' along. I was countin' on your ma bein' home by now. Maybe Mrs. Donovan can stop by while I'm gone and help ya look after the kids."
Brian cleared his throat. "I mean, what're ya gonna do about Ma? There's no epidemic, at least not anymore. Pa, what if...what if she don't come back?"
Sully stood up. "She says I should send ya to her before I go to Sacramento. You and the kids."
"What?" Brian blurted, drawing in his breath. "Why?"
Sully paced down the porch restlessly. "I don't know. I don't know what that means. But don't worry, nobody's goin' anywhere. I'll just tell your ma I ain't doin' that."
"Ma don't wanna stay here, does she?" Brian murmured.
"I ain't sure either of us knows what we want, Brian," Sully replied. "I guess I see this as a good time to figure that out."
"How ya gonna do that when she's there and you're here?" Brian demanded.
Sully sunk back onto the bench, Brian words stinging hard. The young man was right. He and Michaela needed to talk and not just through the occasional telegram. Going to Sacramento for a week would only put more miles between them. Still, he had told Galen he was going and he felt obligated to honor the commitment. Sully slowly looked up, eyeing him with curiosity. "I ain't sure if I ever asked ya. What do you think about livin' here?"
Brian slowly smiled, gazing up at the starry sky. "Comin' out here with ya, that was one of the best decisions I ever made. I've learned so much, had so many opportunities, what with meetin' people like Mr. Clark, seein' San Francisco, gettin' my observations published in a big-city paper."
Sully gazed up at him proudly.
"But that's all I knew this would be," Brian went on more quietly. "Just a year. 'Sides, I got a lot to go back to in Colorado Springs. There's somebody I gotta make things right with and that I can't give up on. All I know is we gotta be together, no matter where that is."
"How'd ya come to that?"
"My pa," Brian said simply, smiling at Sully. "He helped spell things out for me."
Sully slowly smiled as he thought back to the many times he and Brian had talked, man to man. Over the course of the year, their relationship had sometimes been uncertain, what with everything that had happened when they were in San Francisco, but he sensed the experience had ultimately brought the two of them even closer.
"It's all right with ya, ain't it, Pa?" Brian spoke up. "I mean, that I'm gonna go back to Colorado next month, with or without the rest of ya."
Sully extended his hand and shook with him. "Sure it is. I understand. But I'm glad ya came with us for the year, son. Real glad."
"Yeah, I am, too." Brian clasped his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. "Pa? Don't give up either. Make things right. Don't give up on her."
"Now that you have him walking he won't stop," Michaela said with a grin as she and Dorothy strolled down the street. "I had to pull him away from the stairs three times the other day."
Dorothy held Jack close to her and gave his head an affectionate kiss. "I can just imagine! I'm so glad you brought the baby home with you, Michaela."
"I'm glad he's here, too," Michaela replied, gazing at Jack lovingly as he gently pulled at wisps of Dorothy's hair.
"So, how you two been?" Dorothy asked tentatively.
"Things have been quiet at the homestead," Michaela admitted. "Sometimes too quiet. But I think I've needed the time with my own thoughts."
"I wish there was an easy answer to all this," Dorothy said with a sigh.
"The only thing I'm sure of is how much I miss Sully and the children," Michaela began. "I don't know what to do, Dorothy. I love Sully so much. Since Jack was born, I feel as if we've grown even closer. We're truly complete. I never wanted to leave him."
"He knows that, Michaela," Dorothy said reassuringly.
"But I went anyway," she whispered guiltily. "Now I can't imagine what he must be thinking."
"He's thinkin' how much he misses you, too," Dorothy said, patting Jack's back. "And the baby."
Michaela took a deep breath. "Dorothy, if I say yes, I could be spending the rest of my life cramped in a tiny cabin, cooking and cleaning. I may never practice medicine again. But if I say no...I'm frightened he may stay on there anyway. Without me."
Dorothy clasped her hand. "Michaela, you gotta talk to him! Tell him what this town means to you!"
"No, I need to stay here," Michaela replied. "Just for a few more days. Please, Dorothy. You have to understand. Once he sends the children to me, once I have them here, I'll be able to think more clearly." She stepped up to the telegraph office and grasped the counter. "Horace, did my new shipment of medical supplies arrive yet?"
Horace slowly looked up, face downcast as he slid a piece of paper toward her. "Not yet, Dr. Mike. But there's another telegram just come in from Sully."
Michaela instantly brightened, picking it up and turning back to Dorothy. Her smile rapidly disappeared as she read the words.
Dorothy shifted Jack to her other shoulder. "What is it? Bad news?"
Michaela dropped her hand to her side, devastation sweeping across her face. "Sully's not...he's not sending the children. He's leaving them with Brian and going on to Sacramento anyway."
"Oh, Michaela. I'm sorry," Dorothy murmured.
Baffled, Michaela sat down on a bench outside. "How can he go to Sacramento and just leave them like that? He can't do that. He has to send them home. To me."
"Well, Brian's gonna be there. Sully knows they'll be in good hands," Dorothy said sensibly, sitting beside her. "And he's probably afraid to send them here alone on a train, with the weather as unpredictable as it is."
Michaela took Jack from her and held him close. "Dorothy...what am I going to do? I don't know if I can live there permanently. But if I don't...will we go our separate ways? Perhaps we already have."
"Looks like you got some decisions to make," Dorothy murmured, patting her arm comfortingly.
Sully rested his bridle in his lap and absently rubbed a rag down the straps, working oil into the stiff leather. A cool evening wind was blowing, gently ruffling his hair. He stared at the leather as he thought about the trip he was about to take. He would have to be up early to ride out to Fresno, where he was meeting Galen at the stage. Then from there, they would go on to Sacramento. He should have been excited about the journey, but worry and apprehension were all he felt. He was leaving the children behind for an entire week. Moreover, he was running away from Michaela when he knew it was the last thing he should be doing.
Sully looked up as the Donovan's wagon approached the clearing, surprised to see Carrie alone and driving.
"Mrs. Donovan," Sully called in greeting.
"Evening," she replied, climbing down from the seat and walking over to the porch. "Thaddeus told me about your trip."
Sully lifted up the bridle and laid it over the porch railing to dry. "Just makin' some last minute preparations. I leave tomorrow mornin'."
"Well, I hope all goes well," she replied with a smile.
"Mrs. Donovan," Sully began quietly. "I know it's a lot to ask...but I was wonderin'...Byron and Katie have really been missin' their ma. Maybe while I'm gone, ya could stop by from time to time-"
"Of course I will," Carrie said.
"I know I'd be grateful," Sully replied. "I'd feel a lot better leavin' 'em like this if somebody like you is lookin' in on 'em."
"It's no trouble at all," she replied.
Sully briefly clasped her hand in appreciation. "Thank you. Michaela and me appreciate this." He nodded beside him. "Why don't ya have a seat?"
She waved her hand quickly. "Oh, no. I can't stay long. Actually, I got a favor of my own to ask ya."
"Sure. What kinda favor?" Sully replied curiously.
"Maybe I will sit down," she said, sinking into the bench beside him and folding her hands. "You know that your wife and me...well, we've had our differences. And believe you me, comin' out here like this wasn't easy."
Sully nodded. "Well, I'm glad ya came. Always nice to have company."
She took a deep breath. "I got a friend in need of some help, and I can't do much for her. But Mrs. Sully can. Mrs. Sully has what she needs."
Sully crossed his arms, eyeing her with confusion. "She does?"
Carrie bit her lip. "I want to borrow some of her books. What I need is some first grade readers, maybe a few picture books. I s'pose I can set aside enough pride to tell ya, that in this case, we ain't gettin' very far with my Good Book to guide us, like I'd hoped."
Sully slowly stroked his chin. "Ya helpin' Faye to read?"
"How'd ya know that?" Carrie blurted.
Sully shrugged. "Michaela mentioned she couldn't. She was thinkin' of tryin' to teach her herself, but didn't see how she was gonna find the time."
"It surely takes up a lotta time," Carrie admitted. "But I'm a stubborn woman. You probably already know that. I'm gonna get this girl readin' or die tryin'. But...I can't do it on my own." She eyed him hesitantly. "Ya s'pose Mrs. Sully would mind...if we borrowed a few of *her* books?"
"I know she'd be happy to lend them to ya, Mrs. Donovan," Sully said with a smile. "And she'd be real pleased the both of ya can work together to help Faye."
"With her books and my know-how, I got faith that child's gonna be readin' up a storm soon enough," Carrie said, gently clasping Sully's arm. "Thank you for this. Thank you."
Sully stood up, brushing his hands off on his buckskins. "Come inside. Our school supplies are on her desk. Ya can look through 'em and take what ya want."
Michaela raised her eyes from the chopping stump as a horse and buggy trotted around the bend and into view.
"Hey, Dr. Mike," Sarah called, pulling back on the reins and stepping down from the buggy.
Michaela tapped the ax into the stump and wiped her palms on her apron. "Good afternoon, Sarah. What brings you out here?"
She reached into the buggy and pulled out a small basket covered with a cloth. "My ma sent me with some of her zucchini bread. We figured you could use it. It's real soft so Jack can eat it, too."
Michaela took the basket and peeked beneath the cloth with a smile. "Oh, that's very kind. Thank you."
Sarah awkwardly stepped back. "I best be goin'. I got chores."
"Wait, why don't you come inside and have some tea?" Michaela asked. "It's been a little lonely out here at times. I'd love some company."
Sarah glanced at the sinking sun. "Well, I s'pose. For a few minutes anyway."
"Good. I just put Jack down for a nap, but perhaps he'll be awake soon. He likes company, too." Michaela put her arm around her and led her up the porch stairs, opening the door.
"My ma says she don't think she's ever seen a prettier baby," Sarah said shyly, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "He's real nice, Dr. Mike."
"Oh, thank you," Michaela replied proudly as she added a log to the stove and opened a tin of tealeaves. "He's growing too fast for me already."
"How's everybody else? Have ya heard anythin'?" Sarah asked tentatively. "How's...how's Brian doin'?"
Michaela forced a smile as she was reminded once more of how deeply she missed Sully and the children. "They're doing fine. My niece from San Francisco was visiting them for a few days and they've been hiking in the park."
Sarah began nervously toying with the laces of her cape. "Dr. Mike, I was thinkin' about how ya said I could tell ya anythin' that's on my mind."
Michaela slowly turned from the stove and put two cups on the table. "Of course."
"I've been givin' me and Brian, what we had, a lot of thought," she went on. "Sometimes I can't concentrate on anythin' else."
Michaela nodded. "I understand."
"Well, do you think, even after what happened between us ... if two people love each other enough, we could still make it work?"
"Provided that's what you both want, yes, I do," Michaela replied.
"Me, too," Sarah murmured. "Then there's only one problem. I'm here and he's there."
Michaela removed the kettle from the stove and poured the tea into her cup. "Yes, that is a problem."
"Well, like I said, I been givin' it a lot of thought. What would ya say about me goin' out there?" Sarah went on. "Permanent, I mean."
Michaela raised her eyes with a start, forgetting she was still pouring as Sarah's cup overfilled and tea spilled onto the saucer and table.
Sarah quickly grabbed a napkin and dabbed up the liquid as Michaela found a towel on the counter and hurried back to the table.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Michaela blurted with chagrin as she lifted up the saucer and wiped it clean.
Sarah giggled softly, folding the damp napkin. "It's all right. No harm done."
Michaela smiled sheepishly and sat down. "Perhaps I misheard you. You want to go to Yosemite?"
"It just started makin' sense," Sarah explained. "Brian and me have been together since we were kids. I think I've always known he was the right one for me. Didn't you ever feel that way? I mean, about Sully, that is."
Michaela swallowed, her face warming. "Well, yes. But when Sully and I were courting I wasn't a young girl like you. I had children and was establishing a medical practice and I was more experienced. I-I don't mean experienced in the sense that ... what I mean is I had met many other men before. Well, not many, many men. Two or three in Boston. But that was enough such that I had learned from previous courtships."
Sarah cleared her throat awkwardly. "Oh."
Michaela patted her hand. "What I'm trying to say is that Brian is all you've ever known."
"But why's that matter?" Sarah questioned. "That's what my ma is always tellin' me. I gotta meet other boys. I don't understand what for."
"Well, because-" Michaela began. She paused, tracing her fingers along her saucer.
"Dr. Mike, Brian means everythin' to me," Sarah whispered. "And someday I'm gonna marry him. If he asks me of course." She blew on her tea and took a small sip. "When Brian and all of ya left for that place, I kept thinkin' how I was gonna get through a whole year until he came back here. I kept countin' the days he'd come home so we could be a couple again. But now I think, what's Colorado Springs got to do with it?"
"What do you mean?" Michaela questioned.
"Well, the way I see it, me and him just have to be together, simple as that. Does it really matter where we are in the world?"
Michaela slowly nodded, digesting her words. "I suppose it shouldn't."
"So, Brian's in California," Sarah said. "And maybe even thinkin' of stayin' there for good. Then that's where I'll go. To California."
"That's quite a step," Michaela remarked uneasily.
"I at least gotta go out there and talk to him. I owe him that," Sarah replied. "I don't know what's gonna happen after that. Now all I gotta do is convince my ma to let me go."
"I imagine she would be very wary of you making such a trip," Michaela said.
"Maybe you could talk to her, Dr. Mike," Sarah suggested. "If anyone can convince her you can."
"I'm not sure about that. But I have an idea. Why don't you write Brian a letter first? Tell him what you told me and see what he says. Then we'll discuss actually going out there."
"Is it what you would do?" Sarah asked quietly. "Do ya think I'm doin' the right thing?"
Michaela patted her hand. "Well, it doesn't really matter what I would do. But no matter how much you care for someone, you always have to maintain your own person. You have to make your own decisions."
"Like you decidin' to come back here to Colorado Springs?" Sarah whispered.
Michaela nodded, biting her lip. "Relationships are never simple, Sarah. They're about giving and taking, compromises. And learning. Sully and I are still learning from each other, every day. And I'll admit at times it can be very difficult. At times things can be very unclear." She stared at her hands. "Such as right now." Michaela slowly looked up, drawing in her breath. She could suddenly picture Sully and the children so vividly, missing her and waiting restlessly for her to come home. Home, she thought. She had called Yosemite "home."
"But when ya find the right one...it's worth it, ain't it, Dr. Mike?" Sarah replied.
"Yes," Michaela replied wistfully. "Yes, it very much is."
Michaela carefully stood up from her rocking chair, Jack sleeping over her shoulder, and walked to his crib.
"Sweet dreams, Jack," she whispered, lovingly kissing his head and lowering him to the sheets. She covered him snuggly with a blanket, stroked his hair soothingly for a moment, and then walked to the bed.
It was strange to be so alone, she thought as she slipped off her bathrobe and tucked her slippers beside the bed. She and Sully would always snuggle up together and talk after they had put the children to bed. He would describe the projects he was working on and the plans they were developing. She would always make him chuckle when she shared some droll remark one of the children had made that day, or told him about something sweet that Jack had done.
It was so much harder to sleep, Michaela thought as she pulled back the covers and tucked her legs beneath them, without getting everything off her chest before bed. She missed telling Sully about her day, she missed hearing about what he was doing, and she missed the way he proudly smiled when they talked about their children.
Still, even throughout all their late-night conversations in Yosemite, her thoughts would often wander to Colorado Springs. She would think about everything the children were missing at the school and she would worry about the clinic, her patients and their friends.
Michaela pulled the blankets up to her waist as she found herself gazing at the photograph of the family the children had given her that was resting on the nightstand. When they left for Yosemite almost a year ago, she had certainly never imagined everything they would go through within that time span.
She gazed at Katie, grinning widely in the photograph. Then she gently touched her finger to Byron, kneeling in front of Sully in his vest and pants. Michaela glanced at Jack and smiled. Her last little boy was growing so fast. Now he was even leaving crawling behind and raising himself to his feet, surprising everyone.
Michaela's eyes traveled to Brian, standing beside Sully and looking so handsome in his best suit. Brian had always been so sensitive to her feelings. He was the first person to speak up about her homesickness, and had tried to comfort her the best he could.
Michaela held the photograph closer as she gazed at the image of herself. Something about the way she was smiling wasn't entirely sincere. Even then, she was having reservations about Yosemite. Even then, her thoughts were centered on Colorado.
Finally, Michaela's eyes traveled to Sully. She gazed into his eyes for a long while, never missing him more than at that moment. Michaela hugged the photograph to her chest, took a stiff breath, then carefully placed the photograph back on the nightstand. Her eyes suddenly fell on the Bible beside it, where she had set it after church last Sunday.
She had met new people in Yosemite, even made a friend. She suddenly found herself thinking of the Donovans. Whenever you're in need, Carrie had told her, you can always look to the Good Book. The Almighty won't turn his back.
Cautiously, Michaela reached over and picked up the heavy leather book, resting it in her lap. She let out a quiet chuckle as she thought of Mrs. Donovan again. Carrie would be thrilled to see her reading anything in the book. She wouldn't care what it was. Michaela slowly opened the pages and focused on the first passage her eyes fell on.
"And it came to pass in the days when the judges judged, that there was a famine in the land," Michaela began, deciding a little reading might help clear her head. "And a certain man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the field of Moab, he, and his wife, and his two sons ...."
A soft smile came to her face as she read on, the unfamiliar story reminding her of the long Sunday school classes in Boston when she and the other children were instructed to stand and read from various passages.
"And Ruth said, 'Entreat me not to leave thee," Michaela went on, "and to return from following after thee, for whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God, my God." She slowly looked up from the page, startled. Finally, she bravely drew in her breath. "Whither thou goest, I will go," she repeated in a whisper. "And where thou lodgest ... I will lodge."
"There we are, Jack," Michaela whispered, crouching down to the baby's level and tying his knit cap snug beneath his chin. "Are you warm enough? It's cold today."
The baby pressed his mitten-clad hands together and squealed, suddenly losing his balance and tipping forward.
"Oh, be careful!" Michaela said with a chuckle, scooping him off his feet and hugging him close. "I think Mama better hold you for now." She stood up and slowly turned to face her friends, lined up on the platform with solemn faces.
Grace and Robert E. stepped forward first while Dorothy and Loren lingered behind.
"Dr. Mike, here's some lunch for ya," Grace said, handing her a basket. "I know the food on the train ain't always the best."
Michaela took the basket from her gratefully. "That's very kind of you, Grace."
"You be careful now," Robert E. said, glancing up at the cloudy morning sky apprehensively. "You best get off that train at the next stop if you hear any word of a storm brewin' up ahead. Ain't worth the risk."
"We will, Robert E.," Michaela said. She glanced between the two of them, slowly swallowing. "Robert E., Grace. Sully and I, we didn't have a church to go to in Yosemite so Jack hasn't been christened yet. But we wanted to ask...when we do christen him, would you be his godparents, too?"
Grace smiled proudly, sharing an approving glance with her husband. "Truth is we'd be honored, Dr. Mike."
Michaela clasped her hand, beaming. "So would we."
"Let me see this little pumpkin," Grace murmured, taking the baby from Michaela and rocking him in her arms. "Jack, when you get back, I want you to say hello to your brothers and sister for me, ya hear?"
Michaela rubbed the baby's back. "We'll be certain to do that."
Grace returned the baby to Michaela and stepped back, clasping Robert E.'s arm.
"Dr. Mike," Loren began, sticking his thumbs in his vest pockets. "You'll tell Brian we miss him?"
Michaela turned to Loren and clasped his hand. "Yes. But I have a feeling Brian's going to be back this spring for...a certain young lady."
Loren chuckled. "Yep, yep. Well, then tell him me and him ... maybe we can go fishin' sometime, once he gets here."
Michaela nodded, voice filled with emotion. "When he comes back...could you look in on him once in awhile? Just to be certain he's all right?"
Loren leaned forward and gave her cheek a gentle kiss. "Ya don't have to ask me that. I already plan to."
Dorothy stepped forward and embraced Michaela warmly. "It was so good to see you," she whispered.
Michaela held on tight, tears suddenly glistening in her eyes. "If anything had happened to you...I just had to be sure you were all right. You're my best friend."
"And that's what best friends do," Dorothy replied. "Now that you're here...it's just so hard to let you go."
"Sully's leaving for Sacramento tomorrow," Michaela whispered. "He needs me to come back and take care of our children. Sacramento, it's something he believes in. So I believe in it, too."
"That's right. Just like he's always believed in the things you do," Dorothy replied. "Michaela, it's gonna be all right, all of ya livin' there. We'll just keep writin'. And we can visit."
Michaela nodded bravely, pulling back. "Yes. And now I believe it's your turn to visit me. Besides, I want you to see the doctor's office Sully's going to be building me."
Dorothy grinned through her tears. "I'll start makin' plans." She kissed the baby's cheek. "Don't get any bigger, Jack. I couldn't bear it!"
"Dr. Mike!" Sarah suddenly called, hurrying across the railroad tracks and stepping up to the platform. "Wait, Dr. Mike!"
"Sarah?" Michaela replied, turning to face her. "Is something wrong?"
Sarah shyly held out an envelope. "Not anymore. Could ya see to it Brian gets this letter?"
Michaela smiled, taking the envelope from her. "I'll deliver it myself."
"Dr. Mike, hurry up," Loren said as the train whistle blew its final call. "Or you and Jack are gonna have to run after that train to catch it!"
Michaela shifted the baby to her other hip with a wry grin. "Well...I always have liked adventure, Loren."
He chuckled and gave her a hand onto the back of the passenger car. "Bye, Dr. Mike!" he called, gently putting his arm around Dorothy as silent tears fell down her cheeks.
Robert E. and Grace called their goodbyes and Horace stepped out of the post office to wave.
Michaela watched her friends fondly as the train pulled away. She waved the baby's hand as the train picked up speed.
"Say bye-bye, sweetheart," she whispered, pressing her chin to the baby's head. "It's time to go home."
Galen opened his pocket watch impatiently, his knapsack and a cylinder filled with maps and papers resting at his feet as he stood in front of the stage. He was awkwardly dressed in the only suit he owned, a fading dark blue, old-fashioned vest, coat and pant piece he always wore when he was traveling.
"Let me get this for you sir," one of the drivers spoke up, puffing on a cigar as he grabbed the knapsack and cylinder.
"Wait, I'll hold on to this," Galen said, pulling the cylinder back. "Thank you, young man."
The driver threw the knapsack forcefully onto the roof as a man up top tied the luggage down.
Galen walked a few paces away from the stage, staring down the street and glancing at his watch again. Sully was always so punctual. He was beginning to worry something had happened to him.
He let out a relieved sigh as he finally spotted Sully galloping into town, riding bareback. Galen raised his hand to wave, slowly lowering it as he took in Sully's solemn expression.
"Where's your luggage, Mr. Sully?" Galen asked as Sully slid down from his horse.
Sully looped the reins of the horse around a hitching post and turned to face him. "Mr. Clark, I come to tell ya I had to change my mind. I can't go."
"You aren't going?" Galen uttered.
"I'm real sorry about this," Sully said, resting his hand on the hitching post. "I know I told ya I was comin' along, and I don't feel right about breakin' commitments. I try to avoid it when I can."
"I see," Galen said, the disappointment in his voice evident. "May I ask what prompted this sudden change of heart?"
Sully took a deep breath, glancing around pensively. "It wasn't so sudden. I been mullin' this over for awhile. Goin' to Sacramento, helpin' ya out with the park, that's somethin' I believe in. And I wanna thank ya again for askin' me along. But...what I believe in even stronger is my family. I gotta honor my commitments to them first."
Galen nodded approvingly as the stagecoach driver took the reins. "I see. Well, good man, Sully. I understand." He stepped up into the coach, laying the cylinder across his lap protectively.
Sully removed his glove and held his hand up to the window. "No hard feelins?"
Galen smiled, the first time Sully had ever seen him do so. "No hard feelins, Sully."
Sully shook with him firmly. "Put in a word for me, when you're dealin' with those 'dim-witted' politicians."
Galen chuckled, slapping him on the shoulder. "That I promise I will!"
Sully stepped away from the stagecoach, grabbing the reins of his horse. "Good luck, Mr. Clark."
Galen nodded, stroking his beard. "It's Galen, Sully. Call me Galen. And good luck to you, son."
Fierce gusts of snow beat against the train windows while an equally violent thunder and lightening storm brightened the dark sky with electricity every few seconds.
Michaela held Jack tight as she gazed out the window apprehensively. The train continued to move at a steady, determined pace through the storm. Porters strolled up and down the cars, pretending to be undaunted, though Michaela detected a trace of anxiety across their faces. The storm was not letting up, as she had hoped. The snow was growing heavier and the thunder and lightening more frequent as the train continued its path through the Sierra Mountains.
Michaela gave the baby a protective kiss, grateful that he was dozing through the noise of the storm, and glanced at a porter making his way close to her seat.
"Excuse me," she called, gently grasping his arm as he walked by.
The young man immediately paused, grasping the back of her seat and gazing down at her. "Can I help you, ma'am?"
Michaela glanced out the window. "It's getting worse."
He smoothed back his greased dark hair with a smile. "Oh, nothing the Central Pacific Railroad can't handle. Don't worry."
"Then there won't be any delays?"
He pulled out his pocket watch and opened it. "Well, I believe we're a few minutes behind, but never fear. We can make up time once we get out of the mountains."
"I don't mind if we're late. I just want to get through safely," Michaela said as she recalled Robert E. warning her to get off the train if they encountered bad weather. She had a feeling Sully would have said the same thing. "Could you tell me when the next stop is?"
"Oh, well that's Oakland," he said. "It's at least another hour away and by that time we'll be well finished with this poor excuse for bad weather."
"Oh," Michaela murmured, rubbing the baby's back.
The porter slipped his pocket watch back into his vest and returned his eyes to Michaela, noting her furrowed brow. "Rest assured we have our sturdiest snow plow at the front of the engine and plenty of wood stocked up in the exceptional event that we should be delayed. The safety and comfort of our passengers is our priority."
Michaela attempted to brighten her expression. "Thank you."
"Just stay in your seat and keep calm," he instructed, patting her shoulder. "I've made this journey many times myself in the dead of winter. There's nothing to fret about."
Michaela held Jack snuggly against her as she fed him his bottle. The baby was looking up at her with questioning eyes, as if he could see the uneasiness she was feeling. He whimpered uncomfortably with each crash of thunder, but Michaela had succeeded in keeping him relatively calm throughout the horrendous storm.
"We should never have tried to make it through in this weather," remarked a woman seated behind Michaela.
"Don't be absurd," her husband chastised. "Nothing can stop a locomotive this powerful."
"Donner Pass is cursed, Carl," she said resolutely. "I still wish we had waited until winter was over to go through."
Michaela closed her eyes and tried to tune out their words. She was already anxious enough without having to listen to comments from other tense passengers.
Suddenly, she snapped her head up, straining to hear. A slow rumbling was building nearby, deeper than the sound of the engine or the violent thunder. She glanced around frantically as passengers stood up from their seats to peer out their windows at the mountains.
"An earthquake?" she whispered aloud as the rumbling grew louder. She pulled Jack's bottle from his lips and tucked it back into her bag, shifting the baby to rest over her shoulder as he began to cry forcefully.
"It's an avalanche!" one of the passengers abruptly cried, leaping from his seat and gazing out the window.
The car immediately erupted into panic. Women screamed and men shouted while Michaela sat frozen in her seat, breath held as she pressed Jack as tight as she could against her. There was no way to escape and no use trying.
"I won't let go of you, Jack," she found herself whispering. "I won't let go, sweetheart. I promise I won't let go."
The rumbling increased to a deafening roar as a wall of snow, rock and uprooted trees barreled down to the train. Michaela crouched to the floor, her eyes wide as the windows shattered and metal writhed and split.
Terror coursing through her veins, she huddled farther down and tried to shield the wailing baby from the debris.
" ... Sully!" she screamed as grisly darkness engulfed the car, followed seconds later by an eerie, painful silence.
Sully immediately sensed something was wrong as he galloped his horse into the worksite camp. The storm had let up to a small drizzle as men abandoned the frame of the inn they were putting up and swiftly loaded wagons with tools and supplies. They were shouting orders at each other and restlessly talking amongst themselves.
"Sully!" Thaddeus called, loading a handful of pickaxes into the back of a wagon and then running over to him.
Sully quickly dismounted, glancing at the men as he took off his soaked jacket. "What's goin' on?"
"Avalanche in Donner Pass," Thaddeus explained, nervously opening a tin of chawing tobacco and sticking a large wad into the side of his cheek. "Musta been all that thunder and wet snow we had."
Sully let out his breath, grasping his shoulder. "Anybody hurt?"
"We hear tell it buried the train goin' through," Thaddeus said. "I said myself a thousand times, anybody takin' a train into these mountains this time of year must have feathers for brains."
"How far away?" Sully asked as he thought of Michaela. He was suddenly glad she was still in Colorado Springs. At least she would be safe there.
"About ten miles," Thaddeus explained. "We got the tools to dig 'em out. We'll be leavin' in a few minutes. I rode out to tell Carrie. She's gonna follow us soon as she can with some of our blankets and more supplies. Ya comin', too?"
Sully nodded firmly. "We'll get 'em out."
"Oh, we'll get 'em out," Thaddeus said, stepping back to the wagon and climbing onto the seat. "It's just a matter of whether any of those fools are gonna be alive or not once we do."
* * *
"'Why, Mrs. Robin, how do you do? I am very happy to see you. Do you live near by?'"
"That's good, Katie," Brian said. "You're gettin' a lot better."
Katie beamed, holding the book higher as she continued. "'O, yes,' said the lady bird. 'I live in the elm tree near yonder cottage, and a de...delightful home it is too.'"
Katie abruptly stopped reading and quickly closed the book as someone knocked on the door. "I'll get it!"
"Katie, wait," Brian called, picking up the book. "Ya didn't finish!"
"I'll get it, too!" Byron said, dropping his slate pencil and sliding down from the bench.
Brian pressed one hand to his head. "Ya can't keep runnin' off like this or you'll never learn anythin'. No wonder Ma gets fed up with ya."
Katie flew open the door, bursting into a wide smile. "Jim, Luke!"
"Hey, Katie!" Jim replied. "Wanna play?"
Mrs. Donovan wrapped her arms around the boys and ushered them inside. "Hush now and let your ma talk to Brian."
Brian rose from his seat. "Mornin', Mrs. Donovan. Somethin' wrong?"
"Afraid so," she said. "I can't come over today to look in on ya. I gotta bring some supplies out to Donner Pass. Avalanche came down right on the train goin' through."
"Can I come along, Ma?" Luke spoke up.
"I already told ya no," Carrie said briskly.
Brian walked over, grabbing the doorframe. "I hope everybody's all right. Was it bad?"
Mrs. Donovan swallowed hard. "I reckon I'll soon find out. Ya mind if Jim and Luke stay at your cabin today? No tellin' how long their pa and me are gonna be gone."
"Sure thing," Brian said.
"Thaddeus and the whole team is goin' out there," Carrie explained. "If there's any souls to be spared, they'll find 'em."
"Then Pa must be out there, too," Brian said.
"I thought he was takin' the stage to Sacramento today," Carrie said, brow raised.
Brian smiled softly. "Not anymore. He changed his mind."
"He said he's gonna stay with us until Mama gets back from Colorado," Katie added. "'Cause we're his family."
"Thank the good Lord your mama's got sense enough to stay put," Carrie said. "If ya ask me they shouldn't be runnin' trains through here in the first place, least of all in the dead of winter. Ever since the Donner Party got themselves trapped, that place has been cursed, everybody knows that."
"Think there's ghosts up there, Ma?" Jim spoke up.
"Ghosts?" Byron spoke up uneasily.
"Whatever's there, ghost or otherwise, it don't take too kindly to people," she replied. "Well, that's enough chatter. I gotta start out there. You boys be good. Listen to Brian and help out around the house."
"Come on, Ma. Can't I come?" Luke pleaded.
"Luke, for the tenth time no!" Carrie said sternly. "This ain't any place for a child."
"I'm not a child. I'm a man," he retorted.
"You're no man," Jim spoke up with a giggle. "Ya don't even have whiskers!"
"Whatever you are, I said no and that's the end of it," Carrie replied.
"Pa would let me go," he said sulkily.
"I don't care if your pa would let ya go to the moon!" Carrie retorted, grabbing his arm tightly. "I'm your ma, and I'm tellin' ya you're to stay with Brian and don't move a muscle from this cabin until I come back to fetch ya. Ya hear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Luke grumbled.
Carrie opened the door, kissed Jim and Luke's cheeks, then pushed Luke's cowboy hat over his eyes good-naturedly. "Stay out of mischief."
Brian shut the door after her as the boys rubbed their cheeks of the kisses.
"Luke, I thought you said your pa was the boss," Byron spoke up questioningly.
"Well, he is," Luke said stubbornly, taking off his hat and brushing it off. "Except when Ma decides she's gonna be."
"Oh," Byron said, gazing up at him. "Hey, ya wanna see the letters I'm writin'? Brian's teachin' me. He's the teacher until Mama gets back."
Jim looked at Brian doubtfully. "You're a teacher? What are ya, a girl?"
"Boys can be teachers, too," Brian said, walking to the table and handing Byron his slate.
"Kinda how ladies can be doctors?" Jim asked. "Like your ma?"
Brian grinned. "Yeah. Kinda."
Byron sat down on the bench and slipped on his spectacles. "I wrote words in cursive. Brian helped me. See?"
"You got glasses, Byron," Luke remarked disapprovingly. "Are you a brain or somethin'?"
"... No," Byron protested, whisking off his spectacles.
"Let me see those," Luke said, grabbing them from him and putting them on. "Look at me. I'm Byron! I'm a brain!"
Byron's lower lip trembled. He bit down on it hard to steady it. "Give 'em back."
Brian stepped forward to help, then quickly hesitated. He was always coming to his little brother's aid, always wanting to defend and protect him. He decided it was time to give Byron some freedom to handle the situation on his own. He had a feeling it would be good for him. He grabbed Katie's hand and backed away from the table, giving the boys some space.
"Luke, give 'em to me," Byron said more forcefully. "Please. I need them to see letters. I can't learn any good unless I wear them."
"Come on, Luke. The kid never did us no harm," Jim spoke up. "Don't pay any attention to him, Byron. He's just sore 'cause Ma wouldn't let him come along to see the train."
"Hush up," Luke scolded. "I'm just havin' a little fun is all."
"It's not nice to take things," Byron said. "What if I took your hat?" He quickly reached up and grabbed Luke's hat off his head, clutching it tightly against his chest.
"Hey!" Luke exclaimed. "Give that back! Byron, this ain't funny. My granpappy gave me that back in Salt Lake City."
"We can trade," Byron said astutely. "I get my glasses back and you get your hat back."
Luke eyed him for a long moment, pondering the idea. Finally, he took off the spectacles and held them out. "It's a fair shake."
"Fair shake," Byron said in agreement, handing him the hat and quickly taking back his spectacles.
Brian stepped back to the table and patted his little brother's back proudly. "What do ya say we get out the cards and play a game? We got a lotta time to kill before the grownups get back."
Jim rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Good idea! I got more tricks to teach ya."
Brian smiled. "Good. We can all learn."
Sully stood up from the back of one of the wagons, holding onto the seat for support. The train was derailed in a shamble from the tracks. The avalanche, although small, had brought down a handful of trees, several of which had piled atop the cars. A few other men from nearby homesteads had come out and had already started to dig out the cars. They had reached a small opening in the first car and were carefully lowering a lantern inside.
Kirk stood up beside Sully, shielding his eyes. "This is bad, Sully," he murmured. "This is real bad."
Sully swallowed, slowly nodding in agreement and gripping the back of the seat tighter as Thaddeus pulled on the reins and jumped down.
Harper got down from another wagon and quickly ran to the men, the workers following close behind him.
"What do we got?" Harper asked, glancing over the steaming cars.
One of the men slung his shovel over his shoulder and approached him. "A passenger car and a mail car," he explained, bundled in a thick coat, hat and scarf. "We can see some of the passengers, but a tree split the car down the middle. We can't get to the other half yet. I sent my boy to fetch the Doc. He should be back soon."
"We brought saws and other tools," Harper said. "We'll get right to work."
"Avalanche hit about two hours ago. My boy and me saw it from our cabin," the man went on. "Seems like the train just caught the edge of it. If it'd been any closer, it likely would have swept it right down the mountainside."
"We should build fires and set up tents," Thaddeus spoke up. "They're gonna be cold once we get to them."
"Cold with death," the man remarked solemnly.
Sully surveyed the accident keenly. "They could still be alive. But we gotta hurry."
"Sully's right," Kirk spoke up. "There's plenty of room for air pockets."
Harper turned to face his workers, all watching him eagerly and awaiting his instructions. "Grab your tools, some rope. If we're gonna do this we gotta start right now!"
Carrie had arrived an hour before and had helped to start a fire and brew some hot coffee. The men had rescued the first few victims, most escaping with no more than a few scrapes and bruises, and turned them over to Carrie and the doctor.
Thaddeus and Harper were helping to direct the removal of a log from the shattered pieces of the car. They had strapped heavy chains and pulleys to it and were slowly hauling it away.
The weather was turning colder as the afternoon progressed, but Sully paid little attention to it. He wouldn't quit until they had gotten to every passenger on the train and he knew his fellow workers felt the same.
"Once we get that tree cleared, we can get to all of 'em," Kirk remarked, briefly pausing to wipe his perspiring brow.
"Yep," Sully replied absently, eyes focused on his work. He couldn't stop thinking about Michaela. Even though he didn't recognize the faces that he was helping to rescue, he knew that if Michaela were on the train that derailed, he would want whoever was nearby to come to her aid. The knowledge that it just as easily could have been his wife aboard, that this was the same train she had taken to Colorado and the same one she would have taken back to Yosemite, disturbed him deeply and spurred him to shovel all the faster.
"Go, go!" Harper shouted as the men strained to raise the log from the train. The wreckage creaked and split as the log finally rolled down the side and away.
"They got it!" Kirk shouted. "They got it!"
Sully quickly raised his head as he heard soft cries from passengers. Thaddeus brushed away the glass from a broken window and reached down inside, pulling up a crying little girl about ten years old. She was covered in ash and had a small laceration at her hairline, but otherwise she appeared to be fine.
"They're alive," Kirk whispered.
Sully watched in disbelief as Thaddeus continued to pull out passengers. A few were limp and unconscious but most were simply cold and distraught.
Finally, Thaddeus straightened, brushing off his hands. "I can't see anybody else!" he called. "That might be the last of them."
"Send a lantern down," Sully shouted, dropping his shovel and hurrying over to his friend. "Send a lantern down inside. Ya gotta be sure that's all of them."
One of the men quickly tied a length of rope to a lantern, lit it and handed it to Thaddeus. He crouched back down to the window and lowered the lantern.
"Two more!" he shouted. "They're passed out far back! I can't reach!"
"Go down inside," Sully said. "Bring them to them opening and I'll lift them up."
"Sully, you sure?" Thaddeus blurted.
"You're tired, Thaddeus," Sully said. "I'll lift them up if you bring them to the opening."
Thaddeus quickly obeyed, crouching through the small window and making his way to the back of the train. He returned seconds later with a lifeless body of a young man draped over his shoulder. Blood dried down the man's face and around his eyes, open in a blank, dark stare.
"This one's gone," he whispered, quickly closing the man's eyes and hoisting him up to Sully.
Biting his lip, Sully carefully lifted the body through the window and handed him to the workers nearby.
"God damn it," Thaddeus said forcefully, clutching the window frame. "We lost him, Sully. Damn it all to hell!"
"Thaddeus, get the last one," Sully ordered. "Go back. Hurry."
"It's a woman," he called.
"Is she alive?" Sully shouted.
"Looks like it," Thaddeus replied. "Her arm's busted up pretty mean. We better set it before I move her. Get some sturdy sticks and some blankets down here."
Kirk quickly broke off the handle of his shovel and handed it to Sully. "Here. Ya can set it with this for now."
Harper thrust a blanket into Sully's arms. "Here ya go."
"Sully!" Thaddeus suddenly exclaimed. "Sully, get down here!"
"What's wrong?" he shouted.
"Just hurry up!" Thaddeus cried.
Sully quickly tucked the wooden handle and blanket under his arm and climbed down inside, falling to his knees beside Thaddeus.
The woman was unconscious, her clothing streaked with soot and ash and her gown and cape torn. Thaddeus smoothed her tangled, dusty hair from her face, meeting Sully's eyes.
"Michaela!" Sully uttered, grasping her face in his hands.
"What's she doin' on this train?" Thaddeus demanded, brow raised in confusion. "I thought she was back in Colorado!"
Sully shook his head in bewilderment as panic quickly gripped him. "I don't know. She was. I don't know." He brushed away some of the dirt from her face. "Michaela! Wake up!"
A small groan escaped Michaela's lips and her eyelashes fluttered before she slipped back into unconsciousness again.
"She's freezin'," Thaddeus said as he carefully pulled up her dress sleeve. "And we gotta set that arm before we can move her out of here."
Sully winced as he eyed the severe break just below her elbow. The bone had pushed right through the skin. Blood oozed from the wound and slipped down her arm to her hand.
"Move aside. I'll do it," Thaddeus said.
"Ya know what you're doin'?" Sully demanded.
"Just hold her nice and still."
Sully slid his arms beneath Michaela's and hoisted her up against his chest. "It's gonna be all right," he murmured. "It's gonna be all right."
Thaddeus grabbed her arm in his dusty hands, braced the handle of the shovel against it and tied it snug with the rope from the lantern. "That'll have to do for now."
Sully pulled the blanket up to her chin, got back to his feet and carefully lifted her into his arms. "Let's get out of here."
"Sully?" Kirk called through the opening. "What's goin' on down there?"
Sully stepped into view. "Grab her under the arms, Kirk. Real slow now. It's Michaela."
"Dr. Mike?" Kirk blurted in disbelief, stretching his hands down the opening.
"Watch her arm," Thaddeus said as Sully hoisted her up into Kirk's waiting hands. "Easy. That's the way."
"I got her!" Kirk cried, cautiously pulling her through the opening and into the sunlight.
Sully quickly climbed out after him and rushed back to Michaela's side as Kirk laid her down on the ground.
"She's passed out, Sully," Kirk said, grabbing another blanket from the men nearby and covering her.
"She's hurt. Bring the doc over," Sully blurted, tucking another blanket beneath her head. "Michaela. It's me. Can ya wake up?" He grabbed her right hand and squeezed it tight. "Come on. Ya can do this."
Her eyelids fluttered once more. "Sully," she whispered.
"Yeah, it's me," Sully replied, voice filled with emotion as he crouched down even farther and stroked her hair from her face. "It's me. Michaela."
She slowly and painfully opened her eyes. "Sully...what are you doing here? You're in Sacramento."
He smiled and tenderly kissed her cheek. "I'm the one that should be askin' you that."
"I was going...home," she said hoarsely. "I'm sorry."
"Shh, you're all right now," he whispered reassuringly. "Doc's gonna fix ya right up."
"Jack," she suddenly blurted, straining her neck to look at the wreckage. "Sully, Jack! Jack!"
He frantically followed her gaze.
"I let go," she said, falling into tears. "I couldn't hold on any longer. I promised him I wouldn't let go, Sully. I could hear him crying."
Kirk hurried back to Michaela, Carrie and the doctor behind him.
"I'll get him," Sully said, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "Lie still. I'll find him." He gave her lips a gentle kiss in parting. "I swear I'll find him, Michaela."
"I'll come with ya, Sully," Kirk said as they rushed back to the train.
Michaela weakly turned her head to watch as Carrie and the doctor kneeled beside her.
"Come on, now," Carrie soothed. "Let the doc take a look here."
"Carrie?" Michaela murmured.
"Hush," Carrie whispered, shifting to block Michaela's view of the train as the doctor pulled down the blankets and began poking and prodding. "Lie still as a soldier. That's what I tell my boys when they come home to me with twisted ankles and broken bones. They've had their fair share of those."
"My baby," Michaela replied as tears fell faster down her cheeks. "My baby's in there."
"He'll be fine," Carrie said, raising a tin cup of coffee to Michaela's lips. "Take a sip."
"I can't," Michaela protested. "I have to help them find Jack."
"No, now don't you move," Carrie ordered.
"Ma'am, aside from your arm, does anything else hurt?" the doctor asked, rolling up his sleeves.
Michaela blinked a few times, trying to regain her bearings as the doctor gently felt down her legs and good arm.
"Stay with us here. Does anything else hurt?" the doctor asked again.
"I think it's just a little bruising," she finally whispered.
"Good, good," he replied. "Now, let's get this arm wrapped up properly." He brushed off his hands and stood up, glancing at Carrie. "I'm going to bring back some clean bandages from the tent. Stay here with her. And for God sakes, don't let her move."
Carrie tucked her arm beneath Michaela's neck and raised her head into her lap. "Drink this hot coffee up now."
"I could hear him crying for a long time," Michaela said, brow furrowed with distress. "He was nearby, but I couldn't reach. Then he stopped crying. Why did he stop crying?"
"Poor thing probably tuckered himself out, that's why," Carrie said reassuringly. "He's gonna be just fine so you stop carryin' on now and drink all of this down. We gotta get ya warmed up."
Michaela reluctantly took a sip of the hot liquid, pausing to cough with surprise and then swallowing another few sips. "It's strong," she whispered.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Carrie blurted. "Thaddeus likes it good and strong and I s'pose I got used to makin' it that way. You want some water instead?"
Michaela watched her for a moment. "Why are you doing this?" she finally asked.
"Doin' what?" Carrie quickly said, averting her eyes and tucking the blankets tighter around Michaela.
"You know," Michaela replied. "But why?"
Carrie slowly smiled, gently clasping her hand. "Well, love thy neighbor...ain't that right?"
Michaela slowly squeezed her hand, faintly returning the smile. "Yes."
"I been a real fool," Carrie went on softly. "And too stubborn for my own good."
"So have I," Michaela replied.
"Mrs. Sully ... what would ya say to startin' over?" Carrie asked tentatively.
"I'd say yes," Michaela replied. "But ...only if you'll call me Michaela."
"Don't you worry, Michaela," Carrie whispered. "If that little boy's anythin' like his mama, he's gonna come through all this just fine and none the worse for wear. That's right. He's gonna be just fine."
"Brian! Brian!" she called.
Brian tossed the ball to Jim and jogged over to her. "Hey, Faye."
"Ya hear any word from the menfolk?" she asked as she caught her breath.
Brian solemnly shook his head. "No. You?"
"Nothin' since Kirk told me what happened early this mornin'," she said. "I've been sick with worry. They been gone so long. Kirk didn't have anythin' more to eat than the lunch I packed him. His stomach must be tyin' itself in knots by now."
"Mrs. Donovan said she didn't know when they'd be back," Brian explained.
Faye shifted the baby over her other shoulder as the children stopped tossing the ball and turned to watch. "What if somethin' went wrong?"
Brian slowly folded his arms. "I s'pose they coulda run out of supplies. Blankets, ropes and provisions. Maybe somebody should ... should bring another wagonload out there."
"Kirk's gonna be powerful cross with me if I show up there," she said quietly. "Lessen...somebody was to go with me."
Brian slowly turned to glance at the children, all watching him expectantly. "Pa wouldn't want me goin' out there either. And I can't leave the kids here alone."
"We'll come with ya!" Luke spoke up. "We can help with the supplies, Brian."
Brian turned back to Faye. "What if they do need more supplies? They might be glad to see us come out."
"Yes, maybe right now they're thinkin, 'I hope they come out with fresh supplies,'" Faye agreed.
Brian turned back to the children. "Katie, gather up all our extra blankets. Byron, go to the shed and get some rope. Jim, Luke, you help him."
"We're goin'! Yippie!" Luke shouted.
"We're gonna save the train!" Byron added, throwing his arms in the air excitedly.
"I...I'm scared," Katie spoke up hesitantly.
"Oh, come on, Katie. We're gonna be heroes!" Jim said reassuringly, grabbing her hand.
"I'll hitch the wagon," Brian said.
Faye let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank you, Brian. I just gotta go out there and find out what's happenin'. I got a gut feelin' this is the right thing to do."
Brian nodded, patting her arm. "Yeah. I do, too."
"Jack!" Sully called plaintively. "Jack!"
Kirk winced as the metal, splintered wood and glass creaked beneath his feet. "Maybe we better not step anywhere," he spoke up quietly.
"He's gotta be somewhere close to where Michaela was," Sully said, crouching down and pushing aside some scraps of material from one of the seats. "She said she could hear him."
"Jack!" Kirk called. "Jack! Jack!"
Sully snapped his head up. "What was that?"
Kirk kneeled beside him, glancing around. "Ya hear somethin'?"
Sully crawled a few inches forward, encountering the branches of another small tree that had pushed its way through a nearby window. "Behind here!" he shouted. "Jack!"
Suddenly an experimental whimper came from the other side of the tree, followed by vigorous, distraught cries.
"I don't believe it," Kirk murmured. "Jack?"
"It's him," Sully said, grabbing one of the branches of the tree and pulling. "Jack! I'm here. We'll get ya out. Hang on."
Kirk took hold of another branch and strained with all his energy, trying to force the tree loose. Finally, he fell back, out of breath. "It's wedged in there good and stubborn, Sully," he said. "We're gonna have to bring down some saws."
Sully quickly pulled his tomahawk from his belt. "Wait. It's only a few inches across. We can chop through it right now." He raised his arm and brought the tomahawk down firmly on the bark, briskly making his way through the trunk at a rapid pace as sweat slid down his temples.
"Careful," Kirk said. "Don't want those wood chips fallin' down on him."
Sully swallowed, scaling back his energy and chopping slower. Seconds later, the tree broke into two.
Without waiting for help from Kirk, Sully pushed one end of the tree a few feet back and reached his arm down between the two pieces. "I can feel him!" he called. "Papa's here, Jack. It's all right."
"Can ya get him?" Kirk asked, grasping Sully's shoulder.
"I can't reach enough to get a hold of him," Sully said, withdrawing his hand with a growl of frustration.
Kirk rolled up his sleeves. "I got longer arms. Let me give it a shot."
Sully quickly traded places with him, slapping him on the back encouragingly as the baby cried louder. "Reach down inside. He's right there."
"I can grab his leg!" Kirk shouted.
"Do it," Sully told him. "Pull him out."
"I don't wanna hurt him," Kirk protested.
"Kirk, if ya can pull him out by the leg then do it," Sully said forcefully, looking him in the eyes. "It's all right if ya hurt him. We gotta get him outta here."
Kirk scrunched up his face in concentration, bit his lip and grasped Jack tight around his ankle, slowly lifting him up from the debris.
Sully immediately took the baby from Kirk, holding him close. "Jack! It's all right. It's all right."
The baby was gasping from crying so hard, wet tears slipping down the filth clinging to his face. A few small nicks and cuts marked one side of his face, but otherwise he appeared to be fine. Sully brushed away some of the dust and dirt from his hair and overalls, then gave him another tight hug. "Don't cry, son. You're gonna be all right now."
Kirk gently caressed the baby's arm, shaking his head. "Hardly more than a scratch on him," he remarked in amazement. "He's just dirty is all."
Jack squeezed up his eyes and screamed unhappily, clutching Sully's shirt for comfort.
"A real tough crier, too, ain't he?" Kirk said with a chuckle.
Sully lovingly kissed the baby's head, rocking him soothingly. "He's tough, that's for sure. Let's get him back to his ma."
He quickly crawled to the window where Thaddeus waited.
"Good thing your boy ain't afraid to make some noise, Sully," Thaddeus remarked with a smile. "Comes in handy when you're tryin' to find somebody."
Sully boosted the baby up to him. "Now that's the last of 'em."
"Good work, Sully," Thaddeus remarked, patting the baby's back. "Very good work."
Sully crawled out and lifted Jack back into his arms, hurrying to Michaela's side.
Carrie was helping her sit up and drink from a canteen of water. The doctor had finished wrapping her arm and had secured it with a tight sling tied neatly at her neck.
Michaela glanced at Sully, her eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat and she let out of sob of relief.
Jack stretched his arms plaintively in her direction, impatiently opening and closing his fists. "Mama!" he cried.
Sully knelt down and laid the baby on her chest, keeping him steady with one hand as Michaela held him tight with her good arm.
"Oh, Jack. Mama's here," she said, kissing him and smoothing his hair. "Oh, are you all right?"
"He's all right," Sully replied with a smile. "Maybe a little upset about all this."
"No wonder," Michaela said, giving Jack's head another kiss as he reached his hands up to clasp them tightly around her neck. "Oh, my sweetheart. Everything's all right now. Mama loves you so much. I'm here."
"He said Mama," Sully spoke up, stroking the baby's hair proudly. "Ya hear it?"
She smiled. "Yes. So not only is he walking but talking, too."
"He's a man that knows what he wants." He gave her lips a soft kiss. "I'm glad I was here for it."
"Me, too," she whispered. She gazed at Jack as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Sully, thank you. Thank you."
He slowly reached his hand up to caress her cheek. "Ya came back."
She nodded, eyes filling with tears.
"Why?" he whispered, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.
"You wanted to go to Sacramento," she began, struggling to explain. "It's something you believe in. So I do, too." She shook her head, confusion settling across her brow. "Why didn't you go? It meant so much to you."
"I know, but I got a family I believe in. Our family," he replied, giving her another kiss and then holding her close, gently rocking her. "What do ya say we go home?"
She smiled, reaching her hand up to caress his hair. "We're together. I already am home."
Vigorous quivering had begun to settle in Michaela's muscles as Sully tried to massage away the cold from her legs. They had found a quiet space in a corner of one of the tents, away from the rows of other victims, and made a makeshift bed of blankets for Michaela to lie down on. Carrie stood close by with Jack, softly humming to him as he dozed in her arms
"Soon as we get ya warmed up, we can head back," Sully said, reaching up to caress her cheek.
"How's Jack now, Sully?" she asked, her thoughts constantly preoccupied with the baby's well being.
Sully glanced at Carrie. "Looks like he's sleepin'."
"Good," she whispered.
He smoothed her hair from her brow lovingly. "How ya feelin'? Ya thirsty? Can I bring ya somethin'?"
She slowly reached her trembling hand up to clasp it with his. "Just stay with me, Sully. Stay here."
He held her hand tightly and kissed it. "I'm right here. Shut your eyes for a minute. Ya can rest easy now."
She slowly allowed her eyelids to droop closed, soothed by Sully's strong fingers stroking her brow and his warm, reassuring voice.
Kirk slowly approached the couple, pausing to give Jack's back a gentle pat and then squatting down to Sully's level.
"Faye's here, Sully," he whispered, removing his hat.
"She is?" Sully replied. "She came out here?"
"You bet she did. With a wagon full of supplies. At first I was madder than the dickens to see she ain't safe back at home." He slowly smiled. "Now I reckon I changed my mind. I'm glad she's here."
"We sure could use the supplies," Sully replied.
"Supplies ain't all she brought," Kirk replied. "Can ya come outside for a minute? There's somethin' I think ya should see."
Sully reluctantly laid Michaela's hand across her chest and leaned forward. "I'll be right back," he whispered, pressing his lips to her cool cheek. "Stay put. I'll come right back."
She nodded tiredly, opening her eyes for a brief moment before dozing off again.
Sully rose to his feet and followed Kirk outside. He stopped short with surprise as Faye stepped forward, holding Byron's hand. Katie and Brian stood next to her.
"Brian? What're ya doin' here?" he demanded.
"I'm sorry, Pa," Brian said. "I couldn't sit still any longer. And I couldn't let Faye come out here all by herself."
"Don't be mad, Papa," Katie implored.
Sully drew Katie to his side, rubbing her back. "Naw, I ain't mad. I shoulda known ya would show up here."
Byron gazed at the piles of wreckage, brow furrowed. "We can help," he whispered uncertainly.
"Pa? Did anybody...anybody make it?" Brian whispered.
"Almost all of 'em," Sully replied reassuringly. "Doc's inside the tent takin' care of 'em."
"I was afraid that...." Brian began.
"It's all right," Sully said, clasping his shoulder. "I know it looks bad but most of them are gonna be just fine. A few cuts, some broken bones. We're sendin' some to the nearest hospital, soon as the train comes from Santa Cruz."
"How can I help?" Brian asked dutifully. "We brought some of our blankets. Want me to get 'em?"
"Later," Sully said. "I need ya to come inside. Somebody's gonna be real glad to see ya."
"Who?" Brian demanded.
Sully took Byron's hand from Faye's and pulled back the flap. "Just inside here."
He led the children past the rows of patients to the back of the tent, stopping near Michaela.
"Mama!" Katie immediately cried, falling to her knees and hugging Michaela's neck.
"Katie?" Michaela whispered, opening her eyes and wrapping her arm around her. "Oh, Katie."
Brian kneeled down beside Katie, swallowing apprehensively. "Ma. Are you all right? You were on the train."
"I'm fine," she replied reassuringly, grasping his hand and squeezing it. "I'm glad you're here, Brian."
He smiled. "Me, too."
Michaela glanced past him at Byron, who was shyly hanging back with Sully. "Brynie," she called plaintively.
"Go on, son," Sully encouraged, nudging him forward. "It's all right."
Byron reluctantly approached his mother, one finger pressed to his mouth as his eyes welled with tears. "Mama. Your arm's all wrapped up."
"It's just a break," she whispered, reaching up to caress his face. "I'm all right. I promise."
"Does it hurt pretty bad?" he asked hoarsely, a tear slipping down his cheek. "You need medicine? You lost your doctor bag when the snow crashed on the train?"
"I don't even feel it anymore," Michaela replied, glancing at each of the children. "Now that all of you are here. Oh, I've missed you. I've missed you so much."
Suddenly Byron fell to his knees, leaned forward and grasped Michaela's shoulders tightly, resting his head against her chest. "Mama, you comin' back now?"
"For good?" Katie added.
"Yes, I'm coming home," she whispered, kissing Byron's head and stroking Katie's hair. "For good."
"Careful. Don't squeeze your ma too tight," Sully spoke up, crouching beside the children.
"Pa, where's Jack?" Brian asked suddenly. "Is he all right?"
Sully nodded across the room. Carrie was still humming to the baby, only now he was awake and resting his head on her shoulder, comforted by her voice. "Over there with Mrs. Donovan. Why don't ya go say hello? He's talkin' now, ya know that?"
"He is?" Katie spoke up excitedly, standing up. "Maybe he'll say Katie!"
"He's walking, too," Michaela added proudly. "Perhaps you can get him to show off for you."
Brian took his younger siblings' hands. "Come on. Let's go see him."
Sully watched them hurry across the tent, reuniting with their littlest brother and showering him with affectionate hugs and kisses. He turned his attention back to Michaela.
"Brian brought them out here," he told her. "With Faye."
"I'm not surprised," she said.
"I s'pose I ain't either," he said wryly.
"They're impatient just like their ma and pa," she whispered, her brow furrowing up as she shifted ever so slightly.
"How's your arm?" he asked, eyeing her worriedly. "Still hurtin'?"
"Only a little," she quickly replied as the doctor approached them.
"Well, how are we holding up here?" he asked, drying his blood-specked hands on a towel.
"Her arm's hurtin'," Sully told him edgily. "She needs somethin' for the pain."
"No, Sully. I don't want to sleep," she protested.
"Michaela-" he began.
"I don't want to sleep," she repeated firmly. "I want to be awake for the children. They need to see I'm all right."
"Suit yourself," the doctor replied, bending to one knee and pulling back her eyelids.
"Doctor, how is everyone else?" she asked as he stuck a tongue depressor forcefully down her throat.
"Say 'ah', please," he replied.
"How is everyone else?" she pressed, pushing away his hand.
He sighed, quickly glancing behind him. "Ten broken legs, a few more broken arms, some sprains here and there. Cuts and scrapes abound. Some deep, but nothing I can't handle."
"Would you like some help?" she asked. "I'm a doctor. I've seen emergencies similar to this many times before."
"A doctor, eh?"
"Yes, an excellent one," she said saucily.
He stood back up. "I doubt you're any good with just one working arm. I think I have things in order. Best that you stay put."
"Listen to the doc, Michaela," Sully said. "You stay put."
"...All right," she muttered, watching as the man moved on to the next patient.
Sully leaned forward once more. "Ya mean that?" he murmured. "For good?"
"Yes. For good," she replied.
"You're givin' up so much," he whispered. "You're givin' up everythin'."
"It frightens me sometimes," she admitted softly. "I wonder about the children's education, if they'll be able to have the opportunities here that they could have somewhere else. I'm not a very good teacher or the best homemaker for that matter. In fact I'm quite terrible at it sometimes--that frightens me, too. And it frightens me how much I'm going to miss Dorothy and Grace and our friends." She reached her hand up and caressed his cheek. "But I'm not giving up everything. I could never give up our family. I want to be with our children. I need to be with them. I need to be with you, Sully."
"We'll make it work this time, Michaela. You and me together. We can do this. We'll build a new life here." He brought his hand up over hers and squeezed it. "So maybe ya ain't the best teacher or homemaker. But that don't matter to me. All I know is the best ma I could ever want for my children is also my wife. And she's the best at that, too." He shook his head, overwhelmed. "You're gonna stay."
"Only if you make due on your promise," she replied, slowly sitting up.
"What's that?" he asked curiously, wrapping one arm around her back to steady her.
"Build me my doctor's office," she said, grasping his hand. "Next to the cabin."
He smiled and squeezed her fingers. "The nicest office you'll ever set foot in, Dr. Mike."
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