For personal use and select distribution only © by Becky January 2007

"No, absolutely not. You're not going," Elizabeth said firmly as she clutched her knife and fork at the breakfast table. Sully had already brought Michaela her breakfast upstairs on a tray and then woke up the children, got them ready for the day and cooked them their breakfast with Brian's help.

Sully glanced at her, not replying, and took a sip of coffee.

"How long are you planning to be gone?" she demanded.

"Not long. About a week." He ate a bite of eggs.

"And how exactly are you going to dig ditches with two broken ribs? Answer me that."

"I don't got a choice here, Elizabeth," he murmured.

"Yes you do. You borrow money from me of course," she replied. "Just tell me how much you need."

"I ain't gonna be in debt to you. I aim to pay ya back that six dollars ya spent on his spectacles."

"How long are you going to pout like a child over six dollars?"

He glanced at Red Eagle and watched as the little boy picked up a piece of scrambled eggs and ate it, licking his fingers.

"Hey, what would your ma say about those manners?" Sully scolded.

He swallowed the eggs. "But Mama's upstairs."

"I don't care where she is, that don't mean ya get away with things like that. Pick up your fork."

Katie and Byron stopped eating and looked at him, surprised by his stern tone. Red Eagle's eyes welled with tears.

"I'm sorry, Pa," Red Eagle whispered.

Sully stood up and pushed his chair in forcefully. "Finish up. I'll hitch the wagon., take ya to school."

Sully pressed his forehead to Michaela's and tenderly held her face in his hands.

"I want ya to listen to Dorothy and Faye and your ma. Let 'em help ya."

She nodded as a fresh wave of tears slipped down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so emotional."

"Everythin'll be fine," he soothed. "Ya just stay in bed and you and the baby'll be just fine."

"It's not that. I just hate to think you're doing such hard physical labor with those broken ribs."

He touched his side. "They're all right. I'll bind 'em up real tight each mornin'."

"Promise you'll stop if they're sore."

"Yeah. I will." He kissed her cheek, then shifted to press his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and tenderly. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He gave her one last kiss and then got up from the bed. He squeezed her hand, gazing into her eyes guiltily, then headed out of the room and padded down the stairs.

Brian handed Sully his lunch satchel as they stood in the doorway.

"Good luck, Pa," he said, shaking his hand.

"You wire me anythin' changes. I'll come home soon as I can."

"I will."

"Take good care of your ma, your gran'ma."

"Yes, sir. Don't worry about things here."

He glanced at Elizabeth. She was scowling severely and crossing her arms as she eyed him with disapproval.

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Take care."

Elizabeth writhed away from him. "Stubborn man," she muttered, narrowing her eyes.

He grabbed his belt off the coat rack and walked down the porch where Kirk was just riding up on his horse.

"Mornin', Sully," he said. "Ya ready?"

Sully nodded and mounted his horse. He gave Brian and Elizabeth one last wave and Brian waved back, then shut the door. Suddenly he heard light tapping on the window upstairs. He quickly looked up. Michaela was standing behind the glass, looking down at him mournfully.

He gave her a little wave, swallowing hard.

She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to the glass.

Sully couldn't look anymore. He turned his horse, glancing at Kirk. "Let's head out."

Teresa stood in front of her students, clutching her ruler. "Children, your assignment for next week is to write an essay."

The children let out collective groans.

"Class," Teresa scolded, tapping her ruler on her desk. She walked to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk, writing in cursive. "The person I most admire is…" she said, spinning back around. "I want you all to write essays on the person you most admire. The older students must write at least five-hundred words. The younger students may write five complete sentences or more. I want perfect grammar and spelling from all of you."

Byron nudged Red Eagle's shoulder. "Who are you gonna pick?"

He bit his lip. "I don't know. Maybe President Lincoln."

Byron turned around, glancing at Katie. "Who you gonna pick?"

"Hm. I think Florence Nightingale," Katie replied, opening her tablet.

"Who you gonna pick, Byron?" Red Eagle asked.

Byron folded his arms atop his desk. "I don't know."

"Byron," Teresa said firmly, raising her finger to her lips. "You may all begin your essays silently until class is dismissed."

Byron opened his tablet and stared at the blank piece of paper, his pencil pressed to his chin pensively.

"You tryin' to show me up, Sully?" Kirk asked playfully as he and Sully worked their pick axes into the dry, tough soil of Colorado's plains. The team consisted of about ten men, all of them quick and hardworking. But Sully had been working more feverishly than all of them put together, reluctant to stop more than a few minutes for anything. He wolfed down his meals at break time and went straight back to work, and he was the first man up in the morning and the last to go to bed.

Sully was far too focused on his work to answer him. He stepped a few paces down and grabbed a rock, throwing it out of the way.

Kirk eyed him with a shake of his head. "Sully, listen, you're gonna be dead in three days at this rate. Take it easy."

"Just want to get the job done is all," he muttered, throwing aside another rock.

"Anxious to get home to Dr. Mike?" he replied, pulling out his canteen and taking a swig.

Sully raised his pick axe over his head and brought it down hard on the soil. He had never minded the way Kirk tended to chatter on before. He was good company and a good compliment to Sully's more quiet, brooding personality. But today Sully just didn't feel like listening to anyone. He just wanted to focus on his work and look toward the end of the week, when he would get his money and could pay off their debts and be with Michaela again.

Andrew held up two small beakers, examining their contents in the light. He had set up an open flame on the vanity, given Michaela a beaker to urinate in and some privacy, and then heated a portion of the sample she provided over the flame. Now he compared the heated sample with the sample at room temperature. The heat had caused it to turn cloudy, an indication it was probably albuminous. Heat coagulation wasn't as exact as he wished it could be. But until doctors developed a more accurate test, he was inclined to err on the safe side.

"Protein?" Michaela spoke up quietly from the bed.

"It's not as pronounced as before, but yes it looks like you're still spilling some protein." He placed the beakers on the vanity.

"I've been on bed rest for a month. I don't understand why it hasn't stopped."

"I'm sure bed rest has certainly helped keep it under control. But it may not stop completely until the baby's born." He walked to the bed side. "Toxemia's usually not something that just goes away, as much as we want it to."

"I know," she admitted quietly.

"Michaela, as your doctor I really have to again recommend that we deliver the baby. You're thirty-six weeks now. It has a much better chance of doing well and thriving at this stage. In fact I'd be surprised if it didn't do just fine. I would guess the baby's at least four, maybe even five pounds right now."

She stroked her belly silently, thinking it over.

"I'm trying to help you achieve a normal delivery," he explained. "I want that for you as much as you do. I'd hate to see you strapped to the operating table at the clinic tomorrow when we could have delivered the baby safely today."

"I just, I wanted to make it to my due date. I wanted to make it to forty weeks," she whispered.

"Of course. But unfortunately I just don't think that's realistic. I'd like to do this now."

"We can't do it now. Sully's in Fort Morgan until the end of the week."

"Well, when he gets back then."

"I'll talk to him when he gets home," she said quietly.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, that's all I'm asking." He walked back to the vanity and began packing up his instruments and supplies.

She shifted up straighter in bed, suddenly a little shy. "Andrew, I was wondering, in the meantime…do you think it would be all right if we, if Sully and I, we…I was just curious if you think pelvic rest includes…everything."

He turned around curiously. "Everything?"

"It's just, I've really been trying hard to keep still and quiet for so long, and I've been feeling better lately and I thought it might be all right if Sully and I…I mean, I've always told all my pregnant patients it's just fine as long as they're comfortable. But I just know Sully won't be receptive to anything unless you say it's all right, too."

"Oh," he blurted, clearing his throat as he suddenly realized what she was talking about. "You mean, you…? Oh. Well, yes, I think that would be all right. As long as you're, uh, you're comfortable."

"Oh, good," she replied. "Thank you."

"Good. I mean, you're welcome," he replied, awkwardly closing up his medical bag.

Red Eagle bounded down the stairs carrying a book. He rejoined everyone at the table and handed Michaela the book. Brian had pulled the wingback chair and footrest up to the table so Michaela could help the children with their homework and still keep her feet up. Brian had really taken his duties of man of the house to heart, and was looking after her and Elizabeth and the children tirelessly and seeing to everyone's needs. At the moment he was in the barn finishing the last of the evening's chores.

"This it, Mama?" Red Eagle asked.

She smiled, flipping through it. "Yes. This was my father's book. It's a biography about Abraham Lincoln that can help you with your essay. Perhaps we could read it together."

He smiled and nodded. He sat back down between Katie and Byron. They all had their tablets open in front of them and were working on their essays with Michaela and Elizabeth's help.

"You know, President Lincoln was a very determined young man when he was your age. He had to teach himself to read and write and do his sums," Elizabeth explained. "There just wasn’t a schoolhouse near where he lived."

"Lucky," Byron muttered, resting his head on one hand and staring at his blank piece of paper. He reluctantly picked up his pencil and wrote his name at the top.

Michaela rubbed his shoulder sympathetically. "How's it coming?"

"Not so good. I can't think of anybody."

"Oh, Byron. There must be someone you can think of whom you admire," Elizabeth said. "Why don't you pick Abraham Lincoln like Red Eagle did?"

"Who do you admire, Mama?" he asked.

"Well, let's see. Lots of people. But I suppose if I had to pick one person it would be your papa."

"Papa? You mean, you can pick people you know?"

"I don't see why not. Your papa is always very brave and true even under the most difficult of circumstances. And he works so hard to take care of all of us, to see to it we have everything we need even if he has to make sacrifices. That's why I admire him."

He pressed his pencil to his chin. "Oh."

Brian opened the door and took off his jacket and hat. "Looks like another storm's brewin'. Heard some thunder in the distance."

"Hope Papa's not gettin' wet," Katie whispered.

"Me, too," Michaela replied hoarsely.

"Well, it's getting late, children," Elizabeth remarked. "I think it's time we stop for now and head to bed."

"Brian, could you help them get tucked in?" Michaela asked.

"Yep, sure, Ma."

The children hugged and kissed Michaela and Elizabeth and then headed upstairs with their older brother.

Michaela closed their tablets and stacked them together. She suddenly noticed Elizabeth glaring at her disapprovingly.

"What is it now, Mother?"

"Hm! Well, I don't admire Sully very much at the moment. Taking off like that, leaving us all here by ourselves."

"Mother, please don't bring this up again. We both already feel badly enough."

"If you feel so badly why can't you just take my money? Michaela, how could you have anticipated you wouldn't be working like this? Or that that horrible man would take off with those wheels without paying? There's no shame in letting me help you two get through these unforeseen circumstances, at least until my granddaughter is born and you can work again."

"Frankly, Mother, I don't want to be owing you money either. It's never a good idea to borrow money from family. Besides, you signed a contract with us. You agreed not to interfere like this."

Her eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. "I know. I'll give you an advance on my rent."

She put the tablets aside. "Advance?"

"Yes, I'll pay you my rent for the next few months early. Just enough to hold you until you're working again. This way it's not really borrowing."

"That's just semantics, Mother. Sully's never going to agree to that."

"He might. I'll have Brian wire him in the morning."

Michaela shook her head, eyes welling with tears. "Mother, I know you want to help, but you're making me feel worse about this."

"I don't care how you feel. I just want him home. Michaela, he is not going to miss the birth of my grandchild because of his silly pride. I won't let it happen. You need him here. We all need him here."

"Of course we need him here," she whispered. "But we need to take care of our family, too."

"I thought I was your family now. At least that's what you're always trying to tell me. I'm living here, aren't I? I can take care of us just this once. If you two would only let me!"

Michaela eased her way out of her chair and slowly stood up. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Elizabeth said fleetingly.

"Beans?" Kirk asked as he dished up some pork and baked beans from a kettle onto a tin plate.

"Thanks," Sully replied, taking the plate from him. He stared into the flames of the fire at their camp site and slowly stirred his lunch as Kirk dished up a big serving for himself.

"Mail call," one of the other workers said as he made his way over to them with a small stack of letters. He took off a folded piece of paper from the top. "Telegram for ya, Sully."

Sully put down his plate and quickly got up, alarmed. He wasn't excepting anyone from home to wire him unless it was an emergency. Either Michaela had taken a turn for the worse, or she had gone into labor and perhaps even delivered the baby by the time anyone had a chance to contact him, either of which he was dreading without being at home to support her. He grabbed the telegram and quickly read it.

"Dr. Mike all right?" Kirk spoke up.

Sully's expression softened. He slowly lowered the telegram and crumpled it up into a ball, tossing it into the flames. "She's fine."

"Who was the telegram from?"

Sully glanced at him. "Mrs. Quinn."

"Oh. Her," he replied with a soft chuckle.

"What's funny?" Sully demanded, eyeing him impatiently as he squatted back down in front of the fire and picked up his plate.

"Nothin'. I was just curious. I'll leave ya be now."

Sully ate his meal for a long moment and took a sip of coffee. "She pays us a little rent each month, to cover her expenses," he explained quietly.

Kirk looked up and blew on his coffee. "Oh. Sounds fair."

"She's got some big plan worked out where she gives us an advance on her rent. To get us through the next couple months."

"So what's the problem?"

"Problem is it's just her way of givin' us charity without actually callin' it charity."

"Well, you'd pay her back, wouldn't ya?"

"Course I would. Every cent. That ain't the point." He took a bite of beans.

Kirk lowered his plate and looked at him pointedly. "Sully, I wouldn't wanna take somebody else's money either, believe me. But Dr. Mike's about to have a baby here. You're about to be a pa again. Most special thing that ever happened to me was watchin' my little girl be born, bein' able to help Faye through that. You oughta go home. Your mother-in-law here, she's makin' it possible for you to come home when you wouldn't of been able to otherwise. So you're gonna owe her a little money, and maybe that's gonna be hard to swallow. But Sully, if you ain't there when your child comes into the world 'cause of pride, that's somethin' I think you're gonna regret forever."

Sully stared into the flames silently, digesting his words.

Kirk slowly stood up and dumped the last bit of coffee into the flames. "Let's get back to work."

Sully glanced at him and stood up, grabbing his shovel stuck in the dirt.

Sully found his boss outside the main tent, gazing up at the starry sky as he enjoyed a cigar. He was a young man to be in such an important position, but he worked his team hard and always got the job done quickly and efficiently.

"Sully, wasn't it?" he called. "Care for a smoke?"

"No thanks." He strolled up to him, hands in his pockets.

He puffed on his cigar a moment. "Something I can do for you?"

"I, uh, I got a telegram from my family today."

"Something wrong at home? You're the one with a baby on the way, isn't that what I heard?"

"That's right. My wife's fine. Everybody's fine. I just been thinkin' it might not be the best idea I be this far away from 'em at a time like this."

"Oh, I see," he replied, twirling the cigar in his fingers.

"I hate to leave a job unfinished. That don't sit right with me. But I gotta ask your permission to leave."

He squeezed his shoulder. "Can’t say as we wouldn't miss you. You're the hardest worker on my team. But if you need to be home, you need to be home. My wife's in the family way herself. Our first. We still got a couple more months to go. It gets harder to leave her every week that goes by."

Sully hadn't expected his boss to let him go this easily. He shook with him gratefully. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate this."

"Let me get you a bank note for your wages."

"Mr. Fuller, I wouldn't expect ya to pay me anything. I committed to this job, and I'm takin' off without fulfillin' that."

"You put in two hard days' work. Any man who puts in a hard day's work ought to be paid for his time. Come inside." He pulled back the tent flap.

"Thank you, Mr. Fuller," Sully murmured, following him inside.

Sully carefully opened the bedroom door. He put his satchel and bedroll aside as he glanced at Michaela. She was asleep in the middle of the bed against several pillows. He quietly slipped off his boots, then unbuttoned his shirt. Then he circled the bed and carefully got under the covers. Much to his dismay, the bed creaked loudly as he lay down.

Michaela was sleeping far too lightly these days not to wake up. She opened her eyes and turned her head toward him.

"Sorry," he whispered.

She burst into a big smile. "Oh, Sully, you're home!"

He smiled back and drew her into his arms. He suddenly noticed her nightgown was gone.

"Ya always sleep naked when I'm not home?" he whispered teasingly.

She glanced down with embarrassment. "Oh. No, no, I just, I had a hot flush during the night. I was soaked again."

"Oh. You all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine now."

"Good."

She stroked back his hair. "Did you get Mother's telegram?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "She thinks I'm the one who's stubborn. Fact is she wasn’t gonna quit until I came home."

"I'm sorry."

He caressed her cheek. "No, she was right. I need to be here right now."

"I need you here," she replied. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him leisurely. Then she grasped his hand and pressed it to her breasts.

"They sore?" he asked, gently squeezing her swollen left breast.

"No, not too bad."

He dropped his head and planted some soft kisses on the tops of her breasts. Her nipples had grown larger and darker some time ago in preparation for nursing, and lately she had been leaking a little fluid, especially at night. She was often self-conscious about the changes she continued to go through, but he was fascinated. It amazed him to watch the way her body was preparing to completely nourish another human being, and despite her worries that none of what was happening to her could possibly be that appealing to him, if anything he found her new, fuller figure just as desirable. He shared a tender smile with her and shifted up to kiss her lips again as she guided her hands down his chest and found the waist of his buckskins. She unbuckled them and slid her hand sensually down inside.

"Michaela…." he whispered, quickly grabbing her hand and drawing it back up. "Michaela, Andrew said pelvic rest. You sure this…?"

"It's all right. I asked him."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Ya asked him? When?"

"The other day when I had a checkup." She paused. "Is that all right?"

"Ya can ask your doctor whatever ya want. Just surprises me ya'd bring that up."

"Well, I couldn't help it. I've been missing you," she said, giving him a soft kiss.

"Ya sure ya feel up to this?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, I actually feel quite well right now."

"I missed ya, too," he murmured, drawing her into a comforting hug.

"Sully, I've been thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"One more week."

"One more week what?"

"I want to make it to thirty-seven weeks. Then I'll induce my labor. Next Monday we'll have Andrew come out and help us get it started."

He held her face in his hands and gazed at her lovingly. "Ya said ya wanna hold out as long as ya can."

"I know. But this way the baby's only going to be three weeks early. Andrew and I think she's almost five pounds now. She'll have a very good chance of doing just fine. The truth is we never know when I might fall quite ill. As long as I can be sure the baby's far enough along to do well, I think it's a good compromise."

"I think it's a real good compromise," he said, caressing her cheek. "Real good."

She smiled and shifted forward, kissing him again as she worked at slipping his buckskins down his waist. He paused a moment and pulled them off, dropping them on the floor, then guided Michaela to her back and leaned over her, tenderly kissing her face, her breasts, and her belly. He shifted down and planted more moist kisses along the back of her knees and her inner thighs. Finally he moved between her legs, stroking and kissing her until she was moaning softly and quietly pleading with him to continue. He pulled back and gazed at her lovingly.

"Ya ready?"

She nodded breathlessly.

"I don't wanna put any weight on ya," he whispered. "You tell me what to do."

"Just lie down beside me, along my back," she said, guiding him down as she turned to her side.

He cuddled up against her back, wrapping one arm around her belly. "This good?"

"Mm, good," she whispered.

He kissed her shoulders a few times and then reached down and guided himself inside her. He commenced a slow and gentle rhythm, watching her carefully for any signs she was uncomfortable.

"How's this?" he whispered.

She threaded her fingers with his. "I'm sorry I'm so big and awkward."

"No, you're beautiful," he whispered back. "Maybe if you weren't so beautiful I wouldn't miss ya so much. I'd be diggin' ditches right now instead of home with my wife."

She smiled lovingly as he drew her all the closer and turned her face toward him to kiss and caress as they made love in the last few moments of darkness before the sun rose.

Sully lifted Byron into his lap and rubbed his back.

"What're ya learnin' in school today?" he asked.

"We're workin' on a map of the world," Byron said.

Sully took a bite of oatmeal. "You helpin' paint it?"

"Yep."

"Kates, ya need more milk?"

Katie nodded as she finished off her glass of milk and Sully reached for the pitcher and filled her glass half full. Then he caressed Red Eagle's head as he cut a small sausage link.

Elizabeth wheeled her chair into the room. "Good morning." She glanced up at Sully with a pleased smile. "Oh. You're home. Welcome back."

Sully got up and grabbed the back of her chair, wheeling her up to the table. "Ya want some oatmeal?"

"Yes, please."

He dished her up a bowl of oatmeal from the stove, then set it in front of her. Then he leaned down and gave her cheek a soft kiss. "Good to be back."

She smiled and picked up her spoon. "What time did you get in?"

"'Bout four." He resumed his seat and lifted Byron into his lap again.

"You must be exhausted."

"I'm all right."

"Good morning, Mother," Michaela said as she slowly walked into the room carrying her empty breakfast tray.

"Michaela, we can do that," Sully said.

She put the tray on the counter. "I'm all right. I'm just on my way back to bed."

Elizabeth eyed her curiously. "Michaela, why are you walking like that?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Like you've hurt yourself. You're walking so gingerly." She eyed Sully critically. "What did you do?"

Sully coughed and lowered his coffee cup. "Nothin'," he said.

"Mother, for heaven's sake," Michaela said, her cheeks reddening. "The baby just dropped this morning, that's all. It's harder to walk."

"Oh!" Elizabeth said. "Well, why didn't you say so?"

"Dropped?" Red Eagle repeated. "Dropped out?"

She chuckled. "No, that just means she's moved a little lower in my tummy. I can feel the head in my pelvis. I can finally breathe again."

"That mean labor's about to start?" Sully asked curiously.

"It can. Sometimes. It definitely means she's getting ready. You did the same thing about a week before you were born, Katie. You made Mama quite uncomfortable for a few days."

Sully took another sip of coffee. "I remember that now that ya say so."

"Me, too," Katie said with a little giggle.

She caressed Red Eagle's hair. "Speaking of which, what are you all doing next Monday?"

"Monday?" Katie repeated. "We have baseball practice."

"What would you think about postponing that? Papa and I were thinking that Monday might be a good day to have a baby. That is, as long as she can wait until then."

"Yippie! Baby sister!" Byron shouted.

"I like Monday," Katie said.

"Yeah, me, too," Red Eagle said.

"Might I remind you, you still don't have a name for this child you're about to have," Elizabeth spoke up critically. "She can't be born until she has a name."

"That gives us a week, Mother. Surely we'll be able to find a name we agree on if we work hard over the next several days."

Elizabeth smiled and grasped her daughter's hand. "In that case. What's Monday, the thirty-first? I think that's a lovely day to have a baby," she announced.

She smiled at Sully elatedly. "Monday it is then."

Brian dished some stew onto two plates and then put it on the tray. Katie grabbed some silverware and napkins and placed it beside the plates and Elizabeth filled two glasses with cider.

"Sure ya don't mind me leavin' ya on your own tonight?" Sully asked.

"Of course not," Elizabeth said. "Brian and I are going to have a lovely supper with the children and then just help them finish their homework. Don't worry about a thing!"

"Thanks, Elizabeth, Brian."

Brian smiled and closed the pot of stew. "Just call me when you're ready to bring that up."

Byron thrust open the back door and ran inside, Red Eagle on his tails. "Papa, wait, wait!" Byron called.

"Papa, stop!" Red Eagle added.

"I'm still here," Sully replied with a chuckle.

Byron and Red Eagle ran into the kitchen out of breath. They were each carrying a small bundle of flowers and weeds.

"We got you flowers. To bring up to Mama," Byron explained.

Sully smiled and took them from him. There were a few daisies, some pink larkspur and several dandelions. "I musta taught ya good. Thanks, those are pretty." He laid them gently across the tray. "Be good for Gran'ma."

"We will," Byron vowed.

Sully picked up the tray and gingerly made his way up the stairs, entering the bedroom. He found Michaela gazing out the window, a rather gloomy expression on her face after another long day in bed.

"Ya hungry?" Sully murmured, shutting the door with his foot.

Michaela turned to glance at him and suddenly drew in her breath. "What's all this?"

"Supper for two," he said mischievously. He sat near her and placed the tray across her lap. "We thought if the two of us can't go out, we'd just have to have an evenin' to ourselves right up here. Brian and your ma are lookin' after the kids."

She noticed the dandelion weeds among the flowers on the tray. "Did the children pick those?"

He chuckled and placed a white candle upright on the tray, striking a match and lighting it with a smile. "Yeah."

"Candles, too? My, this is as romantic as our restaurant in Boston."

He took her napkin and unfolded it, laying it across her lap as a waiter would. "Can ya see our favorite table?"

She smiled, playing along. "You mean with the lace tablecloth and the crystal and the white roses?"

"Yep. And once we're done here, I thought I could take ya to the symphony."

"Am I supposed to imagine the symphony, too?" she asked wryly.

"You'll see," he replied.

Michaela sat back against her pillows and gazed at Sully lovingly across the candlelit tray.

"I'm stuffed," he remarked, folding his napkin and putting it on his empty plate. "It was good, huh?"

She reached across the tray and clutched his hand, threading her fingers with his.

"You all right?" he asked, squeezing her fingers.

"I'm fine. I'm just enjoying the moment. We're probably not going to have another quiet night like this for a long time once the baby's here. Thank you, Sully. This was beautiful."

"What about the symphony?"

She grinned. "Oh, yes, the symphony. And what would they be playing tonight?"

Sully got up and opened the door. "Brian?" he called down the stairwell.

Michaela watched the doorway with curiosity. After a long moment Brian slowly came up the stairs and entered the room, carrying the heavy phonograph under both arms.

Michaela looked at Sully in confusion. "Wait, is that Mother's phonograph?"

"One and the same," Brian said, resting it on the vanity. "It sure ain't light."

Sully gripped his shoulder. "Thanks, Brian. Can ya take the tray down?"

"Sure thing." He grabbed the tray, then gave them a wink. "Have a good time at the symphony."

Sully walked to the phonograph and began winding it up.

Michaela was flabbergasted. "I don't understand. How did Mother's phonograph get here? When?"

"She had Rebecca send it awhile back. Guess she wanted it. We been keepin' it a surprise."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "I can't believe Mother, sending for that contraption."

"I can," he said with a grin. He let go of the crank and strolled to the bed, sitting beside her.

She watched the phonograph with a sigh. "I don't hear anything."

"You're as impatient as Byron. Just wait."

Suddenly the first movement of the Schubert symphony began and Michaela let out an emotive sigh at the haunting introduction. When the melody began playing on the oboes and strings she beamed.

"Oh, it's the Unfinished Symphony," she said, glancing at him. "That's one of my favorites. It only has two movements."

"I know. He didn't finish it. There's supposed to be four."

"You know about that?" she replied, surprised.

He smiled wryly. "Your ma explained it."

She leaned forward and kissed him. "Thank you, Sully. This is one of the best evenings out I've ever had. And we didn't even go anywhere."

He got in bed beside her and put his feet up, then put his arm around her and cuddled her to his chest. She curled up against him, wrapping her left arm around his waist and resting her head against his chest as they gazed at the phonograph and listened to the beautiful symphony together in the candlelight.

"Sully?" she whispered. "Can't sleep?"

"Ya hear that?" he replied.

Raindrops were hitting the roof again, and thunder several miles away rumbled. She nodded solemnly. "I used to like listening to the rain in Boston. I loved the sound of it hitting the cobblestone streets. Now it's become something to fear."

"Michaela, this town don't do somethin' about that creek folks are gonna lose everything."

She gazed up at him worriedly. He glanced at her and shifted down to his back. "Come on, go back to sleep. I'm keepin' ya up."

"You're not. Your child is."

He smiled. "What's it up to tonight?"

"She keeps getting the hiccups. It feels like my whole uterus is shaking."

He chuckled softly. "Hiccups, huh?"

"Hm-mm." She cuddled up against him. "All this rain makes me even more glad we're going to have the birth here at home. I don't want to be traveling to the clinic in bad weather."

"Yeah, I'm happy about it, too," he murmured.

"You are?" she replied hopefully.

"I just want to help ya feel comfortable, safe. I think that's gonna be a lot easier at home. I'm glad we planned it this way."

She chuckled. "Plan. I've tried so hard to plan ever aspect of this pregnancy and birth. And nothing's quite worked out yet. This baby wasn't really planned in the first place."

"I think the baby's got its own plan," he said. "It's the one in charge right now."

"Yes, indeed. Do you remember Red Eagle asking us if we were excited to be parents again?"

He caressed her cheek. "Yep."

"Well, I'm not just excited. I'm ecstatic. Sully, we're getting another chance to bring life into this world, to help guide another human being through their childhood and beyond. There's no greater responsibility. And no greater gift. I can't wait."

"Me neither." He rubbed her belly. "This baby don't know just yet how lucky it is you're its ma. I can't wait to tell it." He shifted forward and kissed her, then drew her into a warm, long hug.

Michaela hadn't been out of bed for very long before Sully gradually became aware of her absence and slowly roused from sleep. He touched the empty spot beside him just as Michaela let out the softest of cries from across the room. He quickly raised himself up on his arms, spotting her leaning on her vanity and slowly swaying from side to side in her nightgown.

"You all right?" he asked hoarsely.

She glanced back at him briefly and nodded, then closed her eyes and let out her breath in shallow pants.

He got out of bed and joined her, laying his hand on her back. "Ya gettin' a contraction?"

She nodded again. He noticed her pocket watch open in front of her and a small pad of paper and a pencil where she had been writing down when her contractions were. There had been one at about four in the morning, another one at seven minutes past, and one at twenty minutes past. He picked up the pencil and wrote down the current time, twenty minutes to five. Her fourth contraction in less than an hour.

"Think this is it?" he murmured.

"I don't know. They still don't feel like real contractions. But they do seem to be coming more frequently now."

He noticed her clenching her hands on the vanity. He tenderly laid his hand atop one of hers and stroked it. "Here, open up your fists. Try an' relax."

She opened her hands and then slowly turned toward him, raising her arms and wrapping them around his neck and then burying her head against his chest.

"There ya go. Just lean on me," he instructed, reaching his arms behind her and clasping them together to put some pressure on her lower back.

"Oh, that feels wonderful. Do that," she murmured.

"Good," he replied, increasing the pressure a little.

He glanced at the photographs on their vanity. The most recent was of the family taken just shortly after they had adopted Red Eagle and not too long before Elizabeth broke her hip. They hadn't a clue things would ever change, but now here they were not even a year later ready to welcome another baby.

"I tell ya how happy I am our family's growin'?" he whispered. "How much I'm lookin' forward to meetin' this little girl or boy you been carryin'? I love ya for doin' this."

She smiled ever so slightly, if that were possible during a contraction, and not long after gradually straightened and held onto his arms. "It's over."

"Feelin' all right? Headaches?"

She rubbed his arm reassuringly. "I'm all right. Just a little nervous the more contractions I get."

"I never knew somebody could get so many contractions that don't go nowhere."

"They've probably been dilating my cervix a little over the past few weeks. I could even be three or four centimeters by now. Or they could be doing nothing."

"Can ya check?" he asked.

"I suppose. But I'd rather not just now. It's better to try not to check too much. Every time you do that you introduce the possibility of infection." She made her way slowly back to the bed and he followed her.

"But how ya gonna know when it's really time to have the baby?"

"I'll know," she said reassuringly, sitting down on the bed.

"What do ya wanna do now? Want me to fill the tub?"

"No, I just want to go back to bed."

"All right," he said hesitantly, drawing down the covers for her.

"I don't want to encourage labor. I'd rather try to hold it off until Monday if I can. I think I should just try to relax, get some sleep."

"That's a good idea. Best get some rest while ya can." He gave her a hand raising her legs back on the bed and then climbed in beside her, drawing the covers up over them.

She settled herself against her several pillows and then reached forward to caress his cheek. "Goodnight. Thank you."

"Michaela, what if this is it?" he blurted.

She paused. "Well, then this is it."

"I don't know, I just think maybe we should check ya. See if the baby's comin' before ya go back to sleep."

She raised her eyebrows. "Sully, I'm not going to have it here in my sleep if that's what you're worried about."

"Oh," he murmured.

She kissed him reassuringly. "I promise I'll wake you the moment anything changes. But you should get some rest, too. I don't want you exhausted before active labor even begins. You won't be much help to me."

"You're right," He got down on his side and cuddled against her, grasping her hand and kissing it. "Night."

"Goodnight," she said again, gazing at him lovingly before closing her eyes and quickly dozing off.

Michaela pushed around her eggs on her plate, then took a small bite of her toast. She could barely swallow it down. She wasn't exactly feeling ill, but her appetite was almost nonexistent. Even a warm cup of coffee didn't sound very good at the moment. She remembered not feeling very hungry for a few days before Jack was born as her digestive system slowed down, nature's way of not wasting any extra energy that would be needed for the birth. But she also knew how worried Sully would be to see she hadn't eaten very much of the large breakfast he had prepared for her, and wasn't looking forward to trying to appease him.

She put her fork down and picked up the tray, putting it aside and resting back against the pillows. She was happy she had made it this far, just five days away from the start of her thirty-seventh week, but still disappointed she might not be able to continue the pregnancy any longer. She was having several contractions every day now and throughout the night, and she knew it probably wouldn't be long before mild, cramping contractions turned into full-blown labor pains.

Sully grasped the doorframe, gazing at her tenderly. "How ya doin'?"

She looked up at him hesitantly. "I …um-"

"Get any more contractions?"

"No. They stopped again. Completely."

"Ya didn't eat your breakfast."

She glanced at the plate. "I know. I'm sorry."

He stepped into the room. "Stomach hurt?"

"I'm not sure. A little. Do you think you could make me something a little blander? Perhaps some peppermint tea?"

"That's all? What about your eggs?"

"I don't think I can do eggs right now, Sully. Please don't force me."

He sat on the bed and kissed her. "I ain't gonna force ya. You just tell me how I can help."

"Well, I suppose I could try some broth. But not too much."

"How would you feel about a nice back rub after I take the kids to school? I'll get some of that lavender oil ya got at the clinic."

"You're spoiling me," she scolded.

"Ya don't want a back rub?"

"I didn't say that. It sounds heavenly. Thank you."

"Peppermint tea and some broth. Comin' right up," he said, patting her arm and standing up.

He walked out of the room and a moment later Katie appeared in the doorway, shyly clutching her hairbrush. Michaela picked up the Harper's magazine Dorothy had lent her and opened it to the first page. She suddenly felt like someone was watching her. She glanced toward the doorway, smiling.

"Katie. Ready for school, sweetheart?"

"Almost. Are you still allowed to braid my hair?" she whispered.

Michaela smiled and put the magazine aside. "I don't see why not. Dr. Cook didn't say anything about that."

Katie approached the bed, pleased. She handed her mother the brush and turned around. "Papa just doesn't braid it the same. I want you."

She smiled as she ran the brush down Katie's fair, thin locks. "I have a feeling most papas probably don't quite understand how to make a good braid." She kissed the child's head and then divided her hair into three equal parts. "Are you helping with Grandma this morning?"

"Uh-huh. I helped Papa and Brian make her breakfast. And I already did all my chores."

"Good. You're such a good helper."

"Mama, Gran'ma says if you and Papa can't decide on a name for the baby she'll just have to name it herself."

"Is that what she said, hm? Well, I'm afraid Grandma's not going to be naming this baby," she said with a chuckle. "As well-intentioned as she may be."

"But Gran'ma said the baby can't come out until it has a name. What if you never pick a name? What if it stays in there forever?"

"Sweetheart, she didn't mean literally. Of course it'll come out. In fact name or no name I think she wants to be born sooner than I'd prefer." She tied off the braid with a piece of rawhide and turned Katie to face her. "There, you're so pretty."

Katie giggled softly and hugged her. "Thanks for braiding me."

"You're welcome."

Katie gently grasped her hand. "Wish you could drive us to school today."

"Oh, me, too. So much. I really miss our drives. I'm so proud of you for how patient you're being. I know I'm really missing out on a lot with you and your brothers right now. It won't last too much longer, I promise."

"You don't like to be in bed, do you, Mama?"

"No, I certainly don't. In fact this has been very hard for Mama." She caressed the child's rosy cheek. "Mama's doctor made me put my feet up for a little bit when I was carrying you, too. And at the time I was so upset about that. But now every time I see you I'm so glad I listened to him." She leaned forward and kissed the child's nose. "All I wanted was a little girl whose hair I could brush. I got my wish."

Katie giggled and hugged her tightly.

Michaela rubbed her back. "All right, don't be late. Have a good day at school. Don't get too wet."

Teresa looked up from grading some papers at her desk and checked on her students. Almost everyone was working quietly on their essays, correcting their spelling or writing some more sentences in their best script. Byron was the only student not taking advantage of the time she had given them to write. He was twirling his pencil on his desk and swinging his legs and occasionally looking out the window at the rain, occupying himself with anything but writing his essay.

"Byron, please come up here," Teresa called resolutely, lowering her pen to her desk.

Caught red-handed, he slowly put his pencil down and slid off the bench. All the students watched with trepidation as he approached the teacher's desk, head bent.

"Why aren't you working on your essay like I instructed you to?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Miss Teresa," he said quietly. "I don't get it."

"You don't understand the assignment?" she asked patiently.

He swallowed. "No, ma'am."

"I see. Tell me what you don't understand about it."

He shrugged. "What's it mean? To admire somebody."

"Ah. Well, to admire someone means you have great respect for them. This person should have qualities about them that you would like to have, too. You should admire someone who is brave, who is honest, who puts others above themselves."

He thought it over pensively.

Teresa picked up a children's book from one end of her desk. "This is a story about our Founding Fathers. Perhaps it will be of some help."

"Thank you," he replied, taking the book from her and opening it.

"De nada. You're welcome, Byron. You may take your seat," she replied.

He rejoined Red Eagle at his desk and flipped through the book as Teresa stacked her papers neatly and grabbed her shawl off the back of her chair, walked down the aisle toward the door. She opened the door, gazing outside worriedly. Rain was pouring down in sheets, soaking the meadow and causing the creek to rise all the more. She shut the door and spun around, and the children immediately went back to feverishly writing, trying to convince her they hadn't been looking out the door. She walked to the stove and opened it up, inserting a log. At least for now, they would be warm and dry inside.

"Got some more peppermint tea," Sully said, entering the room and putting a cup of tea on the nightstand.

He spotted Michaela sitting at her vanity, clutching a small cloth and looking down pensively. She pressed the cloth between her legs for a moment, then took it out and glanced at it, letting out her breath.

Sully watched her a moment. "What's wrong?"

"I thought so. That's definitely the mucus plug."

"What's that? Your water broke?"

"No, no. It's just a little bloody show. It's normal. Women can pass it days or even weeks before real labor."

He walked to her side and wrapped his arm around her, crouching down and kissing her cheek. "Ya feel all right? "

"I'm fine. My body's just getting ready to do this. We just have to wait now."

"You need to get as much rest as ya can while we wait. Let's get ya back in bed."

He worked his arms beneath hers and hoisted her to her feet, guiding her back to bed. He settled her under the covers and she reclined back against the pillow and gazed out the window, watching the rain beat against the window. "Look at it come down. We must have gotten two inches in the past hour."

"Barn's secured, shutters on the house are closed. Not much we can do for your garden but hope it comes through."

"I'm not worried about my garden anymore, but what about Katie and Byron and Red Eagle? The creek's getting so high. What if it overflows? Teresa and all those children could be stranded."

"What do ya think? Should I go out there now, see what's goin' on?"

"Yes, I think you should," she said. "If the creek's going to flood Teresa's going to be forced to dismiss them early anyway. And they may need your help in town, protecting all those businesses and homes against any flooding. And my clinic."

"You and your ma gonna be all right here a couple hours? Still not up to eatin'?"

She picked up her book and opened it to the last few pages. "Mother'll be fine. She always is. And I'm all right, too. I'll just drink that tea and try to sleep. I haven't gotten any more contractions since last night."

Sully sat on the bed, gently caressing her belly and glancing at the book. "How's Nicholas Nickleby comin'?"

"Oh, I'm almost finished."

"Finished?" he echoed in disbelief. "How can ya be finished? I just got that for ya the other day."

She shrugged and put the book aside. "Maybe you should have gotten me a longer book."

"Maybe you shouldn't read so fast."

She pouted ever so slightly, looking up at him sadly.

He looked back at her with amusement. "Ya bored up here?"

"Terribly," she admitted.

"Maybe I could pick out a few of those fancy medical books ya got at the clinic. Bring ya home somethin' new to read."

She instantly smiled. "Yes. Thank you."

"Nicholas, now there's a good name," he remarked. "What do ya think of that?"

"I agree it's lovely, but I'm afraid we'll have no use for it."

"I know, I know. It's a girl," he replied with a grin. He stroked the back of her hand. "What do ya say I make up the settee downstairs, ya do your bed rest in your ma's room? The two of ya could keep each other company while I'm gone."

She brightened. "Yes, that would be nice."

"That don't mean ya can be up and around. I'm lettin' ya go downstairs, but I still wanna see those feet of yours up on that settee."

"I'll be good. I'll only get up for the outhouse," she vowed.

He patted her hand. "Good girl. Let's get ya downstairs, then I'll head out and bring the kids home."

"I wish I could go with you, help you with the children and check on the clinic and the rest of the town."

"I know. Won't be much longer and you'll be back to your old ways."

"You mean my old interfering ways?" she replied wryly.

He leaned down and kissed her, gazing into her eyes lovingly. "Ya been through an awful lot to have our kids. You're pretty amazin', you know that?"

"I couldn't do it without your help," she replied, squeezing his hand.

"That's what I'm here for," he replied, kissing her brow before turning down the covers and helping her slowly to her feet.

Elizabeth took her sewing scissors and cut open another brown wrapped package. She pulled out two more frilly white baby shifts and a matching pair of booties with pink laces. Michaela was dividing most of her time between looking out the window to watch the rain soak the saturated ground and making notes on Elizabeth's medical chart in her lap. Occasionally she paused to shoot her mother a disapproving look as she fussed over all the clothes.

"When did all these come in?" Michaela finally asked. She was very comfortable and cozy on the settee. Sully had tucked a warm afghan around her and placed a thick pillow behind her back. Bed rest was more than tolerable when she was this relaxed and could sit with her mother and talk.

"Yesterday's train," Elizabeth said. "I was waiting until you were around to open them." She pulled out an elaborate lacy white bonnet with silk ribbons. "Look at this! From Paris!"

She gave it a fleeting glance, shaking her head. "Paris? Mother, really. You're spoiling her before she's even here."

"Of course I am."

"I'd really you rather not. And heaven help you if Sully sees all this. You'd better pack it away before he comes back."

"Oh, let me have my fun, Michaela. I adore ordering and going through all these beautiful garments. Besides, I'm not getting another grandchild from any of your sisters. I want to make the most of it."

"I hope we're right about the baby being a girl. These clothes are so feminine."

"Oh, a boy can wear all this, too, if it comes down to it. Which it won't."

"Sully's right. We're going to have one confused child if it's a boy."

"Sully doesn't know what he's talking about."

Michaela rested her chin on her fist restlessly. "I can't believe it's already eleven o'clock and I haven't even gotten out of my nightgown."

"You're not supposed to get dressed. You're supposed to sit in bed," Elizabeth replied, folding the shifts neatly and piling them next to the other clothes.

"I never thought I would be missing chores this much," Michaela added. "My kitchen could really use a good mopping, the whole house could stand to be dusted and the windows need washing. And I'd really love to change all the bed sheets. I have no idea when Sully did it last if he has at all."

"Oh, isn't that sweet? You're nesting!"

She paused. "Nesting?"

She looked at the return addresses on the last few packages. "Yes, you're nesting in preparation for the baby. I wanted to clean when I was convalescing, too. It was the only time I infringed upon Martha's territory and it always drove her completely mad."

"Well, nesting or not I'm not going to lift a finger. I promised Sully I'd stay in bed."

"Good, it's about time you realized how important that is."

Michaela flipped back a page in the chart and made another note. "We've been awfully lax with your exercises since I've been on bed rest. How would you feel about trying the stairs with Sully? He's actually probably a better person to be at your side for that. He's a lot stronger than me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we've put it off long enough. I want you to start working on stairs."

"We've already discussed this. Out of the question," Elizabeth retorted, cutting open another wrapped package.

"You haven't even tried."

"Wrong. I have tried."

She stopped short, looking at her in disbelief. "You have? When?"

"A few weeks ago. I wheeled my chair over to the staircase, stood up and tried to take a step."

"Mother, why on earth didn't you ask me for help?"

She scowled. "I didn't want you to force me! You'd make me climb that whole ghastly staircase once I started!"

"Well, what happened?"

"What do you think? I couldn't lift my leg up of course. It was useless."

"Well, then you weren't trying very hard."

"Don't presume to tell me how hard I was trying," she retorted.

"Sully will help you lift your leg until you can do it on your own."

"No!" Elizabeth retorted. "I can't do it!"

"If you would stop being so negative maybe you could," Michaela replied. She slowly closed the chart, gazing at Elizabeth curiously. "What's the matter, Mother? Are you afraid you'll never be able to do it? Because I know that's not true. Look how far you've come in only a short amount of time."

Elizabeth slowly unpacked some warm knit leggings and a cap for Colorado's colder months. "The last time I tried to climb some stairs I shattered my hip in a dozen pieces. How would you feel about staircases if you were me?"

She swallowed hard. "Is that what this is about? You're frightened of stairs?"

Elizabeth lowered her eyes timidly and focused on folding the clothes.

Michaela leaned forward to clasp her hand, but she couldn't quite reach. She held on to the edge of the bed instead. "Mother, I know this isn't easy, but we'd never let you fall."

"You can't be sure of that," she snapped.

She put her chart aside. "Well, you won't let yourself fall. You're strong enough now to climb those steps."

Elizabeth put aside the clothing and shifted to face her squarely, looking her in the eye. "Don't you understand, Michaela? What happened to me did permanent damage. I'm never going to be myself again! I haven't seen any progress in months. Can't we just cease with all these painful exercises? It's time we accept that I'm going to be in a wheelchair the rest of my life!"

"I'll never accept that. Not as long as I'm your doctor."

"Oh! Sometimes I wish I had gone back to Boston with Claudette!"

"Maybe you should have!" Michaela retorted angrily.

Elizabeth drew in her breath. "Well, as soon as Sully gets home I'll ask him to get me a ticket. There's no reason I should keep living here. It's time I go back home."

Michaela swallowed hard. "Where you can spend the rest of your life in bed feeling sorry for yourself. Yes, what a wonderful idea."

"It's better than having my daughter bully and force me into doing something I told you time and again I cannot do!"

"Fine. I won't force you anymore," Michaela said, slowly rising to her feet. "If you don't want to climb those stairs suit yourself."

"Fine! Good!" Elizabeth replied, crossing her arms furiously.

"Good!" Michaela retorted.

"Where are you going? Michaela, lie back down," Elizabeth ordered.

"No. I don't want to sit here anymore. I'm going to rest upstairs. I never should have come down here in the first place. I should have known we were going to fight eventually."

"Well, I should have, too! Go upstairs!" Elizabeth spat back as Michaela grabbed her afghan and headed out of the room to the staircase.

Michaela paused at the base of the stairs, looking toward Elizabeth's room and suddenly feeling very guilty. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to go back to Boston. She was a part of the family now. She knew they had only quarreled because they were both a little frustrated with Elizabeth's slowing progress, and perhaps a little tired of each other. Over the past several months they had been spending more time with each other than they ever had before. With Michaela on bed rest they were together all the more. But stubbornness prevented her from speaking up. She sighed and slowly ascended the stairs, deciding that a long nap would probably do her a lot of good.

Sully galloped into town just as Jake was ringing the emergency bell. Dozens of men were gathering out front of Loren's store, filling sandbags, among them Matthew and several men from Shantytown. Even Preston was out there, his expensive suit soaked through as he helped shovel soil into a bag one of his bank tellers was holding open for him.

Loren rushed out with another large pile of burlap sacks, dropping them on his porch. "Here, I just found these upstairs," he said.

"Loren," Sully called, quickly dismounting his horse and tethering him to the hitching post.

"Sully!" Loren replied, hurrying over to him. "Looks like the creek's about to go. You better start stacking some sandbags around the clinic or Dr. Mike's gonna be knee deep in water the next time she's examinin' somebody."

"Ya evacuate the schoolhouse yet?"

"We're workin' on it. Robert E.'s over there. So's Brian. They're gonna help Teresa get the youn'uns over here to the store."

"I better head over there," he said.

"Sully, wait," Loren said.

"What is it?"

Loren heaved a big sigh, grumbling to himself. "I shoulda listened to you. We all shoulda listened to you about that creek. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Loren. Let's just worry about gettin' those kids out."

"More sandbags!" Hank shouted as he and a few of his bartenders hoisted some bags around the Gold Nugget. "We need more sandbags over here!"

"Yours isn't the only business in town, Hank!" Loren retorted impatiently.

Sully darted his way around all the frantic townsfolk and jogged toward the meadow. He paused at the bridge, taken aback. The water was dark and muddy, flowing swiftly just inches from the bottom of the bridge. Tree limbs, boards and other bits of debris were floating in it. More men were working nearby, trying to put some sandbags along the banks, but Sully knew it was too late. The creek was going to overflow, it was just a question of how far the water would travel and how much damage it would do.

Michaela shifted to her side in bed and brought one hand up to her belly as it tensed uncomfortably. She had been feeling little twinges all morning that were so mild she could almost ignore them and brush them off as indigestion. But now they had become harder, more rhythmic, and she had to ball up on her side and squeeze her pillow just to get through them. She had felt as prepared for this baby's birth as she was ever going to be, having been through it before and knowing exactly what to expect. But she had always assumed when labor set in Sully would be home or at least close by to come attend to her, support her and reassure her and send someone to fetch Andrew for her. Now, there was no one who could help, what with Sully and Brian in town and her mother downstairs in bed. Tears of fear welled in her eyes at the thought of Sully not making it back in time.

She took a deep breath to calm herself and tried to think practically. She needed towels, water, a blanket, and her medical bag. She supported her belly with one hand and slowly got out of bed, making her way gingerly to the cabinet beside the vanity and opening it. She pulled out a stack of fresh towels, then reached for her medical bag on the vanity. She carried the items back to the bed and sat down, unclasping her medical bag. She laid a clean cloth on the bed, then placed clamps, scissors, a bulb syringe, her bottle of carbolic acid and her stethoscope atop the cloth. She closed the medical bag and then grabbed her stethoscope, placing it in her ears and pressing the bell low on her belly. It was reassuring that at least the baby seemed to be thriving. Its heart was beating at a quick and healthy rate and the baby was tolerating labor just fine. Michaela could feel the baby's head engaged deep in her pelvis, presenting head first. There didn't seem to be any apparent obstacles at all to a normal, uncomplicated delivery. Michaela didn't even want to hazard a guess at what her own heart rate was. She could feel it pounding hard against her chest, from excitement that she was soon going to meet their new child, relief that her pregnancy was finally going to be over, and most of all fear at the idea that she might have to deliver the baby all by herself. As quickly as her contractions were coming, she knew she might not have a choice.

Elizabeth rested her hands on her stomach and gazed out her window at the foggy mountains solemnly. She was reminded of the many quarrels she and Michaela had gotten into throughout Michaela's childhood, especially as her youngest daughter grew into a spirited young woman with ideas and opinions that seemed so very strange and certainly not exactly ladylike. But their relationship had been improving over the past few years. Not since Michaela's wedding had they found themselves in any kind of disagreement as nasty as those they used to have when Michaela was growing up. Until today.

Elizabeth sighed, irritated with herself. She had spoken in haste, as usual. She had allowed her temper to get the best of her, again. Whenever she and Michaela had fought in Boston, Josef would encourage his wife to seek their daughter out and talk over their troubles. However, Elizabeth had always refused, too stubborn to be the first one to make a peace offering. And Michaela was stubborn herself, preferring to cry on Josef or Rebecca or Martha's shoulders, or opting to go bury herself in medical textbooks in the study, or visit her father's patients at the hospital, before she would ever put aside her pride and face Elizabeth. As a result anger and resentment had built up between them over the years, finally coming to a head on the day Michaela boldly announced she was moving to the wilds of Colorado. But now, things were different. The years had passed and they seemed to have gradually come to some kind of truce, putting the past behind and forging ahead to develop a new, closer mother-and-daughter relationship. Elizabeth wasn't about to let a spat like this go by the wayside now, as she so easily would have in the past.

"Michaela?" she called, glancing at the ceiling. "Michaela?"

Elizabeth was surprised when Michaela didn't reply. As angry as Michaela could get with her, she had never once stopped speaking to her. It wasn't like her not to answer when Elizabeth called her.

Intuition told her that something was off, and she desperately wished she could just scurry upstairs to make sure her daughter was all right, like she would have been able to do before she broke her hip. "Michaela!" she called urgently.

When she again received no reply she looked at her cane leaning against the wall next to the bed. She had barely used it since Michaela had brought it from the clinic, and she had never used it without someone right by her side to steady her. She might very well fall right there if she tried to use it on her own now, and that would be disastrous. But love and concern for her youngest daughter suddenly overcame any fear she had for her own safety. She shifted up in bed, put her feet on the floor, and grabbed her cane.

She slowly stood up, leaning heavily on the cane and breathing slowly. Standing wasn't so bad after Michaela had made her practice it so much. It was walking by herself that was frightening. She always had a fear her hip might give out at any second if she took one too many steps. She shuffled forward a tiny step, surprised when she didn't feel any pain. If anything, it felt good to move her stagnant muscles. She made her way to the staircase and paused, looking up at the steep stairs.

"Michaela? Are you all right?" she called one last time, hoping Michaela would appear at the top of the stairs and answer her reassuringly.

There was a long pause before she heard a door open upstairs.

"Mother!" Michaela cried urgently.

"Michaela!" Elizabeth quickly replied. "Michaela, what's wrong!?"

She received no answer. Fear gripped Elizabeth's heart. The past several weeks had been about as torturous for her as they had been for Sully. They were both watching Michaela like hawks, searching for any signs that her toxemia was getting worse. Thus far, she seemed to be muddling through. But Elizabeth feared their luck was finally ending. Perhaps Michaela had had a seizure, or something else terrible had happened. All she knew was that she had to get to her.

"Elizabeth Quinn," she said resolutely, "you're going to climb those stairs and tend to your daughter."

Elizabeth grabbed the banister in her right hand and held her cane in her left. For once she was glad her son-in-law was a carpenter, as much as she had always looked down on the profession before. She trusted his banister would hold no matter how much she leaned on it. She lifted her good leg up to the first step, trying to put most of her weight on it, and then slowly lifted her other leg. She groaned softly. Standing didn't hurt anymore, but lifting up her legs in this manner certainly did. Still, it was pain she could tolerate. She hoped. She took another step, then another, inching her way along. When she reached the middle of the staircase she paused to look back, overwhelmed by how far she had come. There was no turning back now. She might as well go all the way up. She looked up resolutely and slowly scaled the remaining stairs, resting at the top and grabbing the banister exhaustedly as she panted.

She looked back down the staircase again.

"Well, you made it up. But I don't know how you'll ever make it down!" she muttered, pressing one hand to her heart and catching her breath. She suddenly remembered the reason she had climbed the stairs in the first place and headed to the master bedroom.

Elizabeth found Michaela standing beside the bed, arms wrapped tightly below her belly and brow damp with sweat. She had piled a few thick pillows on the bed in front of her to lean on, and her medical bag and instruments, several towels and a few basins were close by at the end of the bed.

"Oh, my goodness. Michaela, what's the matter?"

"Mother! You made it up here!" Michaela replied breathlessly. "How did you do it without help?"

"I put one foot in front of the other. Now tell me what's wrong. Are you ill?"

Michaela closed her eyes, struggling to find the words to explain. "Contractions. One on top of the other."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "What do you mean contractions?!"

"I mean contractions, Mother," Michaela said impatiently.

"When did it start?"

"A few hours ago. Strong ones, only this past half hour."

"Michaela! You should have said something!"

"I didn't think it was the real thing," she replied tiredly. "I thought it was false labor again. I didn't want to bother you."

"Oh, Michaela. Bother me?" She slowly sat on the bed. "Oh, where could Sully be? I thought he was just going to get the children and come home!"

"If the creek overflowed he could be gone hours. He'll help everyone, make sure everyone's properties are secured before coming home."

"Isn't he the good Samaritan," Elizabeth muttered. "Of all days! Well, how much time do you think we have?"

"I don't know. Not much." She wrinkled her brow. "Oh, no. Another one."

Elizabeth watched in horror as she grabbed her pillows, doubled over on them and twisted up her face, moaning long and hard.

"Oh, no," Elizabeth remarked. "That doesn't sound very good."

Michaela ignored her and just kept on moaning, trying to cope with the contraction the only way she knew how. Elizabeth watched her with raised eyebrows until finally it ended. Michaela hugged her pillows exhaustedly and tried to slow her breathing down.

"Well, at least lie down, get under the covers," Elizabeth ordered. "You should be in bed."

"No, I just want to be on my feet. I want to be able to move around right now."

"I should get you something. Towels?" Elizabeth asked.

"I already have everything I need."

"Well, Michaela, I can't just sit here. I have to do something. Tell me what to do for you."

"All right. You can make a fist, and press it up against my back. Down low."

"What? Why?"

"Mother, please just do it," Michaela said tiredly.

Elizabeth reluctantly complied, grasping Michaela's shoulder for balance and pressing her fist up against her.

"All right. How's this, Michaela?"

"My back, it's so sore. I don't know what's happening."

"You're having a baby, sweetheart."

She shook her head. "No, I know. This is just so hard."

"That's why they call it labor."

She closed her eyes despairingly and clutched her back. "It just aches and aches."

"Well, I think you're just having back labor."

"What is that?"

"What does it sound like? I went through it with you because you were upside down. I felt every single pain in my tailbone. Certainly you've encountered mothers at your clinic."

She nodded knowingly. "I just never realized it was this agonizing. I just want her to be born right now."

"No, no. Now, you have to wait for Sully," Elizabeth said firmly. "He's going to be here as soon as he's finished in town. You mustn't do anything until he gets here."

"Not very likely," Michaela replied resolutely.

"Michaela, you can't have this baby now. No one's here!"

"You're here," Michaela replied. "And me."

"Don't be ridiculous. This is not how we planned this at all! This isn't my job. I'm supposed to stay with the children. Except there's no children here yet to stay with. Michaela, you've got to wait until Sully comes home and can fetch Dr. Cook for you."

"Mother, like it or not this baby's coming now. We just have to let it happen and hope Sully gets here in time."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Elizabeth murmured. "All right, all right. What do you want me to do now? Just keep pressing on your back?"

She smiled softly. "Nothing. Just stay with me."

"There must be something."

"A glass of water I suppose," Michaela murmured. "My throat's so dry."

"Yes, you should be drinking water," Elizabeth said.

"Wait, not yet. Contraction," Michaela said, grabbing her hand.

Elizabeth watched worriedly as she writhed a bit and finally settled on leaning over her pillows and slowly swaying her hips back and forth.

"Oh, Michaela," Elizabeth murmured. "You should have a doctor. You need a doctor. What about the toxemia? Do you feel ill?"

"Mother, if you're going to carry on like this the entire time I'd rather you go back downstairs and leave me to do this alone," Michaela replied impatiently.

"All right. I'll be quiet," Elizabeth said, gently stroking her brow. "You just focus on what you need to do. Mother's here."

Sully ran toward the schoolhouse just as Teresa was opening the door and guiding a few of the youngest children down the wet steps.

Sully ran up the steps.

"Sully!" Teresa said with relief.

"We gotta get all these kids out now," he ordered, lifting a bewildered little girl down the stairs and heading inside.

Brian and Robert E. were inside struggling to help all the children put on their jackets and shawls and hats.

"Pa!" Brian shouted.

"The bridge is about to go," he said urgently. "Forget their jackets. We gotta get 'em out."

Katie, Byron and Red Eagle pushed their way past several of their classmates to greet Sully.

"Papa, look at all the rain!" Byron exclaimed, wearing his cowboy hat.

"Yeah, I know. We gotta leave right now, all right?"

"What about my slate?! Our lunch tins!" Red Eagle cried.

"The school floods we'll get ya a new one. Just come on."

He grabbed Katie's hand and led her quickly down the porch as Brian and Robert E. headed up the rear, shepherding all the children outside.

"Hold hands, children. Hold hands," Teresa instructed, picking up the littlest boy in the class. "Quickly now. Head to the bridge."

Brian picked up a crying little girl. "Hurry, kids. Come on," he said.

"I'm getting all wet, Papa!" Katie cried.

Byron and Red Eagle clung to Sully's jacket, squinting against the hard rain and whimpering.

"Just hang on, kids," Sully said, leading the schoolchildren across the meadow. "Papa's gonna get ya safe in dry."

"What about Mama?" Byron shouted. "What if she's gettin' wet?"

"She's fine. She's at home in bed," Sully reassured him.

They reached the bridge and Sully stopped them so he could assess the water level again. It was about an inch away from the bridge and still rising. Teresa made her way to the front and gasped.

"Madre de dios," she whispered. "How did it rise so quickly?!"

Robert E. jogged up to Sully, looking down at the water. "What do ya think?"

"I think we better make this quick," Sully said, grasping a few children's arms and nudging them toward the bridge. "Go, kids. Hurry."

One by one the children made their way across the bridge, Teresa, Sully, Brian and Robert E. guiding them along.

"I'm scared, Papa," Katie whimpered, still clinging tightly to his jacket.

Sully squatted down and lifted her into his arms. "I'll carry ya, Kates. I won't let anything happen." He made sure every child made it safely to the other side, then followed the adults quickly across the bridge.

Teresa quickly did a head count. "Someone's missing! Where's Simon? Simon Anderson? Children, has anyone seen Simon?"

"Simon!" Red Eagle called.

"Simon!" Teresa called. "Where could he be? He was with us when we left!"

Sully quickly glanced around, shielding his eyes against the rain. Simon was a little boy about eight and the Wolves' second baseman. He was a shy and obedient child, and it wasn't like him to wander from the group.

"We'll find him. Take everybody to the store," Sully instructed Teresa. "They can get warm by Loren's stove."

"No! I'm not leaving a student behind!" Teresa protested. "I'll never forgive myself!"

"We're gonna find him, I promise," he said, clutching her arm firmly. "Ya got a dozen other kids that need ya." He put Katie on her feet. "Go with your teacher, Kates."

"Papa, no," she cried, clinging to his arm as tears fell down her cheeks.

"Come along, children," Teresa said unsteadily, clasping Katie's hand. "We'll wait for your parents at the store."

"Where do ya think he is, Pa?" Brian asked.

"I don't know. Let's head back toward the school. Retrace our steps," Sully said. "And stay together."

Robert E. cupped his hands around his mouth. "Simon!"

"Simon! Simon!" Brian shouted.

Sully led the way back toward the school, trudging through the mud and pouring rain and struggling to see.

"Help!" a little voice suddenly called.

All three men stopped short, struggling to hear.

"Help!" the voice called again.

"It's comin' from that way!" Brian called, pointing to their right. "The creek!"

The men ran toward the creek at full speed, searching for any sign of the little boy.

"Over here. Help!" Simon shouted tearfully.

They spotted the little boy neck deep in the muddy and flowing water, clinging desperately to a boulder in the middle of the creek. He was shivering and his blond hair was soaked.

"Coach! Coach!" he cried. "My hat, it blew into the water. I tried to reach and I slipped!"

"It's all right. You hang on," Sully said. "Hang on."

Brian quickly unbuttoned his jacket. "Don't let go! I'm comin' in for ya!"

Sully grabbed his arm, stopping him. "No, don't go in there."

"Pa, I gotta. I'm a good swimmer."

"It don't matter how good ya are. You jump in there you're both gonna drown."

"What're we gonna do?" Brian demanded.

"Stay with him. I'll get some rope," Robert E. said, racing off toward town.

"I'm sorry, coach. I'm sorry," Simon muttered.

"Shh, don't talk," Sully instructed, searching desperately on shore for a strong branch long enough to reach the little boy. "Just hang onto that rock."

"I can't feel my fingers!" he said. "Coach. Help."

"We need ya to be brave," Sully said. "Hang onto that rock with everything ya got. Just a little longer, all right?"

Simon cried softly and gripped the rock as tightly as he could, resting his head against it exhaustedly.

"Don't worry, Simon. We're gonna get ya outta this," Brian promised him.

"I can't find it," Elizabeth said as she searched through the top drawer of the vanity.

"Try the second drawer," Michaela instructed, curled up weakly on one side clutching her pillow.

Elizabeth pulled out the drawer. "Oh. Here it is. Here it is." She grabbed the fan and shuffled back to the bed, leaning on her cane. She sat beside Michaela and opened up the fan, waving it in front of Michaela's face and neck. "There we are."

Michaela held onto a portion of her mother's skirt and tried to just breathe slowly as Elizabeth fanned cool air onto her face. Elizabeth had drawn the shades and let the fire die down, creating a dim and comforting atmosphere. In fact despite some very painful contractions, Michaela had been able to relax quite well and really concentrate. There was something about having a woman with her, a woman who had been through it before and knew exactly what she was going through, that was very reassuring. Of course she desperately wanted Sully to come home, but at the moment she felt safe and calm and had completely submitted to her labor.

"Oh, my stomach," Michaela muttered.

"Still queasy?" Elizabeth whispered.

"It's just in knots," she said with a little whimper.

Elizabeth found a basin at the edge of the bed and drew it to Michaela chest. Michaela managed to prop herself up on one elbow and gagged over the basin.

Elizabeth tenderly smoothed her hair from her face and held it back. "You'll feel better once you've vomited, dear. Sometimes everything just needs to be gone before you can have a baby."

Elizabeth's reassurances that it was normal and even helpful to let it go was all Michaela needed. She held onto the basin and threw up for a long moment, completely emptying her stomach. When it was over she handed Elizabeth the basin and covered her eyes with a cool cloth, resting tiredly. She didn't know what Elizabeth did with it, but it was immediately gone and Elizabeth was pouring a glass of water and holding it to Michaela's lips to rinse her mouth.

Michaela groaned a little and then pressed one hand across the cloth over her eyes. She tried to keep her vocalizations low and tried to visualize the baby coming down quickly and easily. Elizabeth focused on the pocket watch and grabbed a pencil. At this point timing the contractions wasn't really necessary. They were coming so regularly there was no doubt the labor was moving along at a good clip. But it made her feel useful and was a nice distraction, especially because Michaela wanted absolute silence and didn't like to be touched when she had a contraction. There was nothing left to do but count the seconds.

Michaela moaned through the whole contraction and then gradually grew quiet and let her hands drop down weakly.

"One minute exactly," Elizabeth announced, writing down the time. She watched her rest for a moment, then crouched down and removed the cloth, giving her a gentle, light kiss on her forehead. "I hate to see my child in pain. Poor thing."

Michaela thought back to something Sully had said to her once, when her morning sickness had been at its worse and she was feeling very despondent about her entire pregnancy. "It's for a good cause," she said softly.

Elizabeth slowly rinsed the cloth in a basin of water. "Yes, a very good cause."

"I was feeling like I wanted to push a little on that last one."

"Oh, good heavens. Don't you dare."

"I think we should see how far along I am. Check my dilation."

Elizabeth gulped. "We?"

"Well, not we. I'll do it. If you'll help. There's some carbolic acid in my medical bag. To wash my hands. Hurry before I have another contraction."

Elizabeth opened the medical bag and found the carbolic acid and a clean cloth. Michaela poured some of the clear liquid onto her hands and rubbed them together, then dried them off with a towel. Then she raised herself up and bent her knees, reaching her right hand down and taking a deep breath. Then she slid her fingers inside and closed her eyes.

"Well?" Elizabeth asked impatiently.

Michaela ignored her and just focused on giving herself an accurate exam. "Oh. There's my water bag."

"Don't break it," Elizabeth said frantically.

"I'm not going to break it," Michaela said, glancing at her a little irritably and then closing her eyes again. She could feel a little bit of her cervix left and her bag of waters bulging down into the birth canal. It probably wouldn't be too much longer before the cervix was fully dilated and she would be ready to push. She was relieved to have made this much progress already, but she was really beginning to despair that Sully wasn't home yet and could very well miss it. She slowly removed her hand and dried it on the cloth.

"Well? What's the verdict?"

She lowered her legs and turned on her side tiredly, trying to rest. "Not much longer. I'm almost fully dilated."

"Stop doing this so well," Elizabeth said, half seriously. "You keep moving along this fast and Sully's not going to make it." She picked up the fan again and waved it beneath Michaela's neck, grabbing the cloth out of the basin with her other hand.

"You're about to be a grandmother again, Mother," Michaela whispered.

Elizabeth bathed her brow with the damp cloth. "Yes. Thanks to you."

Robert E. sprinted back toward the men, a length of rope around his arm.

"Brian, we'll tie a square knot around your waist," Sully said as they quickly unraveled the rope. "Tie the other end to a tree. Wade into the creek and get 'im. Then we'll pull ya out."

"I can't hold it! I can't!" Simon suddenly cried.

"No! Hang on!" Sully shouted, working all the faster to get the rope tied.

Simon's right hand suddenly slipped. Just as he reached it back up to grab a different portion of the rock his other hand slipped and he disappeared under the water.

"Simon!" Robert E. cried.

Brian tore off his jacket and dove in impulsively.

"Brian!" Sully called. He clutched the rope and got as close to the edge of the water as he could, searching it desperately.

Suddenly Brian came up several feet down the shore, gasping for air. Sully squinted through the rain, struggling to see.

"He's got 'im," Robert E. murmured, shielding his eyes. "He's got 'im!"

Sully looked again and saw Brian clutching the weak little boy tightly to his chest as they floated downstream.

"Brian! Hold on!" Sully shouted, bolting down the shore to get ahead of him. Robert E. followed quickly behind him.

"Get ahead and then throw him the rope," Robert E. instructed.

Sully ran faster until he was ahead of Brian and Simon. Then he tossed the rope across the muddy water. "Brian, grab the rope! Grab it!" he told him.

Brian raised one arm out of the water and grasped the air desperately. "Pa!"

"Come on, son. Grab it," Sully said.

Brian made one last lunge at the rope and connected with it, clutching it securely in his strong fist. "I got it."

"He's got it. Pull him in!" Sully said as he and Robert E. tugged furiously on the rope, pulling Brian toward shore. As he approached, Sully got down on his stomach, reaching his arms out.

"Give me the boy. And don't let go of that rope," he said, clutching Simon's jacket.

Brian handed him over and Sully hoisted the little boy out of the water. Then Sully reached in and dragged Brian out by his shirt, groaning with the effort.

Robert E. placed Simon on his back and patted his cheek. "Ya all right, son? Come on, talk to us."

Simon coughed and sputtered, spewing out muddy water. He suddenly burst into sobs. Robert E. sat him up and patted his back. "Good, son. Spit it out. You're a lucky boy."

Brian hugged Sully gratefully and then made his way to Simon, clutching his shoulder. "Ya all right? Ya gave us all a big scare."

Simon nodded tearfully and hugged Brian.

"Good work, Brian," Sully said, squeezing his son's shoulder proudly. "Good work."

"That was colder than I thought!" Brian exclaimed.

Sully hoisted Simon into his arms, cradling him. "Let's get you two over to Mr. Bray's."

Elizabeth watched with raised eyebrows as Michaela panted through a hard contraction, closing her eyes tightly and clutching her pillow.

"My goodness, this is a long one!" Elizabeth remarked.

"Mother, I need something. I need something."

"You are doing just fine, dear. You're certainly a lot calmer than I ever was. I was screaming murder the whole time. I was ready to belt your father if he got too close."

"I can't. My back. Mother, please."

"Just one contraction at a time. You're doing fine."

She slowly got control of her breathing as the contraction eased and she felt her belly relax. She swallowed hard and buried her face in her hand. "Oh, I need something. I can't do this."

"What is it, Michaela?" Elizabeth said, stroking her arm sympathetically. "Are you asking for medicine? Morphine? Tell Mother what you want."

"No. Please don't talk about drugs, Mother," she said, shaking her head. "I just, I need to do something different."

"Why don't you change positions?" Elizabeth suggested. "Try sitting up."

She nodded. A change in position sounded good right then. She shifted up and Elizabeth helped her sit and lean forward a little.

"Yes, this is good. I can rub your back easily," Elizabeth murmured, running her hand up and down her daughter's warm, aching back.

Tears suddenly welled in Michaela eyes and she let out a soft sob.

Elizabeth squeezed her shoulder. "Oh, Michaela. Shh. Do you know how well you're doing? You are doing this a hundred times better than I ever did. I was always such a wreck. But you're so focused."

Michaela cried harder, shaking her head.

"Shh, shh," Elizabeth soothed.

"Mother, I didn't do all I could. I shouldn't have worked so much. I didn't stay in bed when Andrew told me to. I couldn't carry the baby long enough."

"That's utter nonsense," Elizabeth quickly admonished. "You did a wonderful job for eight months. If that baby wants to come now there's nothing more we can do."

"I just didn't do enough," Michaela said, shaking her head.

Elizabeth caressed her cheek. "Michaela, look at me. Andrew and Sully and I wanted to deliver this baby four weeks ago, remember? And who told us we couldn't? That's right, you did. You risked your life to carry her longer. You might have gone into convulsions or had a stroke at any moment, but you didn't care. As long as you could keep her inside long enough to give her a decent chance. You did more for your baby than anyone ever asked or expected, all right?"

She sniffled and slowly nodded.

Elizabeth held her reassuringly and kissed her brow. "Now, what's done is done. Let's focus on getting her born so you can hold this little baby you've worked so hard for. She is certainly going to be well-deserved." Elizabeth grabbed a cloth out of the basin just as another hard contraction hit. She bathed Michaela's face with the cloth as she struggled to get through it.

"They just keep coming. There's no rest in between," Michaela said despairingly.

"Well, that's because you're nearly there," Elizabeth said sensibly. "Nearly, nearly there, Michaela."

"I need a break! I need a break!" she pleaded.

Elizabeth sat close to her and wrapped her arms tightly around her back. "Lean on Mother. You'll get your break when the contraction's over."

Michaela wrapped her arms around Elizabeth's waist and rested her head against her shoulder, whimpering and moaning the whole time. "My back!"

"I know. I wish I could take it away," Elizabeth murmured, pressing her hand against Michaela's lower back again and pushing against it. "I'm afraid it's not going to feel completely better until your baby's here."

She covered her eyes with one hand and panted through the rest of the contraction, tears slipping down her cheeks. Finally it was over and Elizabeth helped her lie back against the pillows.

Elizabeth ran the cloth down the length of her arms, brow wrinkled in sympathy. "Rest, dear. Take advantage."

"Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I should take something. I'm not sure I can do this without help," Michaela murmured tiredly.

"You'll do it just as I did," Elizabeth said firmly.

"I think I should take some morphine. Just a little to take the edge off. I don't want to make the baby sleepy but I think I need just a little to take the edge off."

"You think? Well, are you certain? If you're certain this is what you want Mother will get you some."

"I don't know. I don't know. I never thought I would want anything but it's never felt like this before," she cried, clutching her back. "It feels like a dozen knives."

Elizabeth made a fist and pressed it against her back. "Oh, good gracious. Does pressure help? Should I press harder?"

"Mother, it's just radiating. It never stops."

"I know, dear. It's miserable. I thought I was going to break my spine when I was giving birth to you. I begged your father to just kill me, knock me upside the head and put me out of my misery. But he wouldn't."

Michaela glanced at her, amused for a brief moment.

Elizabeth smiled softly, smoothing away a tear that had fallen down her daughter's cheek. "But then there you were, and it all went away. You're doing fine, Michaela. This is all going to pay off sooner than you know it."

Michaela nodded tearfully. At times she was devastated Sully was nowhere to be found and she had no motivation whatsoever to try to cope with her hard labor without him. But the thought that she would soon see her baby, and the knowledge that if Sully couldn't be there her mother was going to be right by her side in his stead, supporting her no matter how irrational or out of control she became, gave her confidence to go on.

Sully pushed the store door open with his boot and trudged inside. "Loren, blankets!" he shouted.

"Simon!" Teresa exclaimed, abandoning the other children gathered in front of Loren's stove and running to him.

"Fell in the creek," Sully explained.

"Is he hurt?" she asked.

"Don't think so. Just cold."

"Give him to me," she said, taking the child from Sully and rubbing his back gratefully. "Oh, Simon. How did this happen?"

He hugged her neck. "I'm sorry, Miss Teresa."

Loren rushed over and covered the little boy with a blanket. Teresa looked at Sully tearfully. Sully didn't think he had ever seen her so upset. She was a firm teacher, she expected a lot of her class and she didn't tolerate any kind of nonsense, but that didn't mean she didn't love each and every one of her students as if they were her own children.

"Thank you, Sully," she murmured emotively, giving Simon's wet head a gentle kiss.

"It was mostly Brian's doin'," Sully explained. "Jumped in after him."

"You're a fool, boy," Loren scolded as he draped a thick towel across Brian's shoulders. "But a brave fool."

"You're both soaked to the skin!" Teresa exclaimed. "Come. By the fire." She carried Simon to the stove and sat him in a chair and the other children hurried to help towel dry his hair and take off his soaked shoes and socks to rub his feet.

"Both of you get out of those wet clothes," Loren instructed. "I'll find ya some dry ones to put on."

Katie emerged from the crowd of children, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of cider.

"Papa!" she cried.

Sully rushed to her and picked her up. "Hey, Kates. Ya doin' all right? Ya get dry?"

Byron and Red Eagle appeared, their cheeks rosy from the hot stove.

"Did the creek flood yet, Papa?" Byron asked.

"It's gettin' there. I gotta go put some sand bags up around Mama's clinic so water don't get inside."

"When can we go home, Pa? I wanna go home. I want Mama," Katie whispered, another tear rolling down her cheek.

"We'll go home soon, Kates," he told her. "Real soon. Don't cry, sweet girl."

"I'll help ya, Pa," Brian said, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his damp hair.

"You get in some dry clothes," Sully told him. "Then we'll talk about helpin'."

"Let me give ya a hand, Sully," Robert E. offered.

"I'll help if Brian can't, Pa!" Red Eagle said.

"Yeah, we'll help," Byron added. "Think they have shovels my size?"

Sully squeezed his shoulder. "I need your help at the store. Ya gotta help your teacher make sure all these little ones stay calm and get nice and warm by the fire. Think ya can do that?"

"It's no fair. I wanna help with the sandbags," Byron said, pouting.

"Wish I was bigger," Red Eagle remarked with a sigh.

"Go on and sit by the stove with your teacher," Sully murmured.

Katie rubbed her eyes with one fist. "Be careful, Papa. You could drown."

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "You sound just like your ma. I won't drown. I'll be fine. I promise."

"Come back to get us when you're done," Katie added.

"Course I will," he said, putting her on her feet. He glanced at Robert E. "Let's get goin'. It's gonna take a lotta sandbags to keep that water out of the clinic."

Elizabeth helplessly held Michaela's hand as she struggled through a big contraction. Her moans and shouts were becoming louder, more forceful, and she seemed less able to relax and tolerate her labor as each minute passed.

"I know this is difficult," Elizabeth murmured, voice unsteady. "You are doing so well."

"I really need to push. I want to push," Michaela said, shaking her head.

"Don't push, don't push," Elizabeth said. She had been telling Michaela not to push for twenty minutes now, and she was fast losing hope that she was going to be able to hold back for much longer. She well knew when a laboring woman felt the need to push, there wasn't much anyone could do to stop her.

"Maybe if I just bore down a little," she said desperately. "Just gently to make it feel better. Do you think that would be all right?"

Elizabeth suddenly decided it was all for naught. All this holding back was only delaying the inevitable. Who knew where Sully was or if he had even left for home yet. They might as well just give in to what was happening. If Sully didn't make it, so be it.

Elizabeth eyed her worriedly. "You're really feeling like pushing?"

"Yes. Really!"

"Well, if you're feeling that way I think you should. Go ahead, dear."

"I don't know how," she murmured tearfully.

"Yes you do. It'll come back to you. Wait until you have another one."

Michaela shook her head. It wasn't very long at all before a contraction built up. She cried out fearfully. "Mother, help me," she pleaded. "I don't know what to do."

"You're fine. Hold onto your knees," she instructed calmly. "And bear down."

Michael grabbed behind her knees, pulling her legs toward her, curled her head forward and bore down. It took a few tries, but Elizabeth was right and she rapidly remembered how to push. Once she got the hang of it she pushed hard, tensing up her abdomen and holding her breath. Pushing hurt there was no question. She immediately felt a very real and familiar splitting sensation from trying to force a rather large being down a passage far too small. But pushing somehow made the contractions feel better, and she liked being a little more in control now that she was an active participant in the birth. She also liked the idea that the harder she worked, the sooner she would see her baby. It spurred her to keep pushing no matter how worn out she was. For the moment she forgot about the painkillers in her medical bag she was so tempted to take to ease her aching back and just focused on the task at hand.

"Towels," Michaela murmured, pausing to catch her breath. "Put them under me so I don't ruin the sheets."

Elizabeth quickly reached for a clean towel from the stack at the end of the bed. "Yes, priorities. We must spare the sheets," she muttered. "Here, can you lift your backside up just a little? There."

Michaela pushed one last time and then the contraction eased and she rested quietly against the pillows for several minutes, gently clutching Elizabeth's hand.

"Mother, Sully's not going to make it," she suddenly murmured sorrowfully.

"Don't worry about Sully. Your baby needs all your attention right now."

"I may need you to deliver the baby, Mother," Michaela said, swallowing hard. "Are you up to that?"

"No, not at all," Elizabeth retorted. "But I suppose I'll just have to get up to it!"

She grimaced at another contraction.

"Oh, there. Bear down," Elizabeth said.

She curled forward, bearing down and screaming with the effort. She let out her breath. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Oh, please. Make as much noise as you like. I certainly did."

Michaela needed no further permission. She titled her head back, groaning powerfully with a big push. She certainly didn't want to frighten her mother, but she found it nearly impossible to push very hard without making some kind of vocalization to bolster it. Usually it was a low moan or groan, but occasionally it was a full-fledged scream that she knew had to be upsetting to anyone within earshot. Her throat was dry and scratched when the contraction was over, but she felt like she had made some progress, albeit small.

She could feel Elizabeth's eyes on her, watching her every move.

"Mother, stop looking at me."

"I can't help it. Where else am I supposed to look? Certainly not…not there."

"You're going to have to look eventually."

"Yes, well, let's put that off as long as possible, shall we?"

"I think it's still really high up," Michaela said, shaking her head. "I don't feel the head down low at all."

"You're certain she's head first?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes. I just don't know if it's turned the right way at the moment. Something feels different. The baby's face should be toward my spine, so the head can be born face down. But right now I'm thinking the baby might be posterior, facing away from my back. It would explain the back pain."

"Well, this may take some work then," Elizabeth said.

Michaela rested back against the pillows. "I feel so light-headed."

"Oh. Oh my goodness. Do you feel you might faint?"

"I don't know. I just don't feel well, Mother."

"Is it the toxemia, Michaela?" she asked worriedly.

"It might be," she murmured. "I'm not sure. I've never felt this out of sorts."

"Well, just bear down as hard as you can with the contractions and get this baby here. And for goodness sake try not to faint. "

Michaela chuckled softly. "Try not to faint? That's not very helpful, Mother."

Elizabeth smiled. "Well, just do your best in any case."

"You're doing well, too," she said with a soft smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too," Elizabeth murmured.

Sully heaved another sandbag against the stone wall of the clinic. It had taken a long time, but he and Robert E. finally had Michaela's clinic fairly secured with a double layer of sandbags. There wasn't time to do much else. They would just have to hope that those bags would be enough.

Dorothy ran around the bend, a soaked shawl over her head.

"Miss Dorothy! Where you been?" Sully called.

"My buggy's stuck in the mud, about a mile outside town. I had to walk," she explained. "What's going on here?"

"Creek's about to flood, everybody's been puttin' more sandbags around their businesses," Robert E. explained.

"My Gazette!" she exclaimed. More than a week ago Brian had stacked a layer of sandbags around the perimeter, but suddenly that didn't seem like nearly enough to stop the raging creek if and when it overflowed into town.

"We'll get your place, too," Sully told her. "Don't worry."

She ran up to her porch and inside, tearing open desk drawers and cabinets and gathering together her deed and several other important papers.

Brian ran down the street from the store, wearing brand new trousers, a shirt and a jacket from Loren. "What do ya need, Pa?"

Sully grabbed his shoulder. "The clinic's done. We're gonna help Miss Dorothy next."

"Katie's cryin' for ya, Pa. And for Ma. She's scared."

Sully picked up another sandbag and laid it against the Gazette. "I know. She's gonna have to be patient."

Brian glanced at the Gazette. "I can do this. I'll help Miss Dorothy. You take the kids home."

Sully wiped water from his face. "What time is it?"

"About three o'clock," Brian replied.

He shook his head. "Never meant to leave your ma an' gran'ma alone this long."

"Go home, Sully," Robert E. told him. "There's enough folks around to help get the job done."

Sully slapped him gratefully on the arm. "Thanks, Robert E." He looked at his son sternly. "Be careful, Brian. Don't you be jumpin' in that creek again. You help Miss Dorothy with those sandbags, then head home yourself."

"I think I should ride out to Sarah's after, make sure she and her ma are all right," he replied.

"All right," Sully said. "But you be careful."

"Yes, sir," Brian replied, giving him a brief hug and then turning around to go into the Gazette and assist Dorothy.

"Here, dear. Here's some more water," Elizabeth said, handing Michaela a glass.

"What time is it?" Michaela murmured, taking a small sip and handing it back. "How long have I been pushing?"

"I don't know. An hour or so." Elizabeth tenderly laid a cool cloth across her brow.

"This isn't working. I'm so exhausted. I don't think the baby's moved at all."

"You think this is exhausting? I was at this part of it three and a half hours with your sister Rebecca. Stop being so impatient."

"Three and a half hours?" she echoed with dismay. "I can't do this that long!" She suddenly drew in her breath sharply. "Mother. Contraction."

"Don't think about what time it is. Just bear down," Elizabeth instructed, tenderly laying her hand on her back as Michaela held her breath and let out a deep grunt. Her breath suddenly caught in her throat as a large gush of warm fluid spilled onto her thighs. Instantly she felt a nearly unbearable sensation of pressure.

She cried out with a start and looked down helplessly. "Mother, my water. My water just broke. Oh, no."

Elizabeth grabbed a fresh towel. "Oh. Yes it did. You're fine, dear. Just stay right where you are. That's a good thing, your water breaking. I think this'll move a little faster now."

"Is it clear fluid?" Michaela asked.

"Yes, it looks like it," Elizabeth said, gently running the towel down her daughter's legs and replacing the towel beneath her with a fresh one.

She looked down in a panic. "I think I should sit in the outhouse."

"Oh. You're feeling the baby, dear. It probably moved right down when your water broke."

"No, I just need a bedpan," she insisted.

Elizabeth stroked her brow. "I promise that's the baby. You're feeling the baby's head down there. I know it feels like you want to use the commode but that's the baby's head. She's going to be born very shortly now."

She swallowed hard. "Her head's down there? Are you certain?"

"Of course I am. Bear down."

She took a deep breath for another hard push.

Elizabeth looked up as she heard the front door open. "Oh, thank God he's back. Sully's here, Michaela. He's home."

Downstairs, Sully ushered the children inside and closed the door.

"What do ya say we make some hot cocoa?" he suggested, taking off his soaked jacket.

"Yummy," Byron said.

"Hang up all your wet things," Sully instructed as the children got down on the floor to pull off their muddy boots. "I'm gonna go check on Mama and Gran'ma."

Sully walked toward Elizabeth's room. "We're back," he called. He clutched the doorframe. "Ya missed some excitement in town." He stopped short. Michaela wasn't on the settee and Elizabeth's bed was abandoned, the covers turned down and the sheets wrinkled.

"Sully! For heaven's sake get up here!" Elizabeth shouted from the bedroom upstairs.

He stopped short and the children all paused and looked toward the stairwell.

He quickly went to the stairs and glanced behind him at the children. "Stay down here," he said firmly. Then he grabbed the banister and rushed up the stairs.

He hurried into the bedroom, running his fingers through his damp hair. He glanced at Elizabeth in disbelief. She was sitting on the bed beside Michaela, who was squeezing her mother's fingers bright red and completely focused on bearing down. Sully was so shocked he couldn't comprehend what was happening at first.

"What are ya doin' up here? How'd ya make it up the stairs?" he blurted, shutting the door. He suddenly moved to sit by Elizabeth and hold Michaela's arms. "Michaela?"

"Oh, thank goodness. She's going to squeeze my fingers off," Elizabeth muttered. "Sully, you take over. Your turn to hold her hand."

He took Michaela's hand from her mother's, holding it in both of his. "Elizabeth, how did ya get up here? Michaela, you all right?"

Elizabeth grabbed her cane and slowly got to her feet. "No she's not all right! She's about to give birth for heaven's sake! Don't distract her!"

"Sorry," he murmured, smoothing back Michaela's hair as she continued to focus all her attention on bearing down. "Ya pushin'?" He tentatively shifted her nightgown up her knees. She seemed to lose the last of whatever modesty she had been hanging onto and spread her legs wide, eager for him to check on her progress and moreover, to birth her baby. There was a little wet sliver of dark hair emerging between her legs. It slipped back inside as she let out her breath in a big gasp. The towel she was sitting on was very damp with fluid, but there wasn't any blood that he could tell. He looked up in awe. "Michaela, that's the baby's head right here. It's right here."

"Oh, it is?" She drew her breath in again for another push. He licked his lips and watched anxiously as more of the head appeared, then eased back as the contraction ended. He could tell she was already at the end of her rope, thoroughly worn out and ready for it to be over. She was going to need all the love and support he could provide, and on very short notice.

"Yeah, it's got hair," he said with a smile, watching in fascination as the head eased all the way back up, all but disappearing save for the tiniest portion of hair.

"Oh, good. She's not going to be bald," Elizabeth said cheerfully.

"Hair? Are you sure that was the baby's hair, Sully?"

"Oh, yeah. Lots of dark hair was comin' out," he said with a soft chuckle. He tenderly rubbed her arm. "Just relax. Relax. Contraction's over."

"Relax!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "You try relaxing the next time there's a six- or seven-pound human being barreling out of you!"

Michaela's lips turned up ever so slightly. "It's all right, Mother. It helps."

"Oh," Elizabeth murmured. "Well, if it helps."

He cupped her cheeks in his hands guiltily. "I am so sorry. I'm so sorry I left ya here all day."

"Good, you should be," Elizabeth muttered.

"It's all right, Sully," she whispered, reaching one hand up and gently cupping his wrist. "I just didn't want you to miss it."

"Where's Brian?" Elizabeth demanded. "He needs to go fetch Dr. Cook right this instant."

Sully shook his head. "Still in town."

"Oh," Michaela murmured a little fearfully.

"It's all right. It's all right," he said, rubbing her arm. "Everything's gonna be fine. I'm gonna stay right with ya, all right?"

She nodded, closing her eyes.

Sully squeezed her arm. "Can't believe you're doin' this. When did it start?"

She swallowed hard and tried to catch her breath. "Contractions started around noon. My water just broke a moment ago."

"So quick," he murmured. He stroked her hair. "Ya still want me to get the tub ready? Sit in a nice warm bath?"

"No. No, don't leave me."

"I won't leave ya. I won't leave," he whispered, kissing her lovingly.

"I've been pushing a long time, Sully," she said wearily.

"Not too long. Just an hour or so," Elizabeth said optimistically.

Sully tried to contain his surprise, as well as his worry. With Jack she went from walking around cooking everyone breakfast to four hours later fully dilated. Then she only had to push a few times and just like that the baby was born. He had hoped for Michaela's sake this delivery would be the same. "Everythin' all right?" he asked softly.

"I don't know. I think she's face up. She should be turned the other way."

He swallowed nervously. "Can it come out like that?"

"It depends. Sometimes some kind of intervention becomes necessary."

"She'll come out," Elizabeth spoke up. "Whichever way she chooses she'll come out."

"I threw up. I threw up everything."

He glanced at Elizabeth and she nodded.

"That's all right," he said. "That's all right. That happens."

"Well, I'm going to go stay with the children," Elizabeth announced. "And heat some water so you can give that new grandchild of mine a bath once she's here. Sully, help me back down those horrible steep stairs."

Michaela looked up at her. "Mother, wait. Stay with me?"

"No, I think I'd better go see to the children," Elizabeth insisted.

"Please, Mother? I want you here, too."

Elizabeth hesitated. "Michaela, you're asking me to stay? Are you sure that's what you want?"

She nodded. "You've been here for me my whole pregnancy. Why wouldn't I want you at my baby's birth?"

"Of course I'll stay," Elizabeth said, walking back to her.

Sully glanced at her and gave her a soft, appreciative smile. His attention immediately turned back to Michaela as she cried out in a panic.

"Contraction?" he asked. "Ya want me to hold your legs? Would that help?"

Not answering, she grabbed her knees and pulled her legs back, then closed her eyes and strained.

He clasped her arm and watched as the head suddenly appeared again. "Oh, there ya go. There ya go." He placed his hand behind Michaela's neck, supporting it as she inched the baby all the closer.

"Sully, lean me forward," she ordered breathlessly, taking a quick, deep breath and bearing down again.

He shifted closer and held her up with his strong arms. She tucked her chin right up to her chest and groaned forcefully. "Push. Push," he murmured. He glanced at her as she gasped for air and went right back at it again. "That's the way. You're doin' it, Michaela. Push. Right down here. Push."

She let out her breath, panting. "I can't stop."

"Then don't," Elizabeth instructed.

She needed no further urging. She pulled back all the harder on her legs and curled forward again, giving a few more big pushes with the last of the contraction. Finally she fell back against the pillows, letting go of her legs and catching her breath.

"Ya wanna touch the top of the head?" Sully asked. "Reach down here."

She shook her head and Sully grasped her knee and watched the head slip back inside, though it seemed to move more slowly this time.

He squeezed her knee. "Oh, it's back inside now. Ya can touch it next contraction."

She glared at him irritably. "I don't want to touch it. I want this over with."

"Head's comin' right down, Michaela," he told her. "You're movin' it."

She sighed with frustration. "No. It keeps going back up."

He pulled her nightgown down over her knees and rubbed her thigh. "You'll hold it down. Next couple contractions. You're doin' good. Ya ain't bleedin' at all. Just rest."

She swallowed hard, a little reassured by that, and turned toward him gratefully as he smoothed the perspiration from her face with a cloth Elizabeth handed him. He stroked her cheek and watched her rest, shifting up very close to her to softly kiss her and whisper to her.

"It's comin'," he murmured reassuringly. "I can see our baby's head. Won't be much longer."

"Is everything all right in town?" she asked. "My clinic?"

He gently rubbed her belly. It was very warm, and no longer hard but much softer now that her water had broken and the baby had moved down into her pelvis. "Everything's fine. We got sandbags around everything. Don't worry about the creek right now, all right? Don't think about anything else but gettin' our baby born."

"Sully, I'm so tired," she said despairingly.

He smoothed away a stray hair clinging to her damp cheek. "I know ya are. You're doin' it. You're so beautiful. I love ya so much."

"I love you so much," she murmured, briefly opening her eyes to weakly caress his cheek.

"I love you," he said again, kissing her lips a few times as she closed her eyes again.

Elizabeth sighed softly, touched. Even in the throws of a hard labor Michaela and Sully still looked at each other with such passion. For a moment Sully just sat with her patiently, holding her hand as the raindrops continued to hit the roof unremittingly. But the period of quiet and tenderness was to be short lived. Michaela suddenly reached behind her and touched her lower back with a dejected cry.

"Oh, my back! Sully, do something."

"Oh, yes her back. She's had a just terrible backache this whole time," Elizabeth remarked.

"Where's it hurt? Here?" Sully murmured, running his hands down her back.

"The contractions are all in my back," she said hopelessly. "I can't cope with them when they're down in my back like that."

"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing her back down low.

"I need medicine. Something for my back," she implored.

He was a bit thrown off guard. "No ya don't. Ya don't need anything. You're doin' it."

"Chloroform," she pleaded. "In my bag."

Elizabeth reached for the bag but Sully shook his head.

"You're doin' it, Michaela," he whispered. "Ya wanted to do it without medicine. You're doin' exactly what ya wanted just perfect. Everything's goin' like we planned. Ya tell us where it hurts and we'll rub it."

She looked at him as if very aggravated with him, then writhed a bit, groaning against the start of another contraction.

"Here, we'll hold your legs," Sully said, moving to the other side of the bed and sitting beside her. Then he grabbed her leg and braced it to his chest. "Elizabeth, ya got her?"

"Yes, I have it," she said, grabbing Michaela's right leg and holding it back. "Bear down, dear. You're having a contraction."

Michaela buried her face behind one hand and drew in her breath through her teeth. Her whole face twisted up hard.

"Push," he encouraged, shifting her nightgown up over her knees.

Her face reddened all the more and she tipped her head back a little.

He clutched her knee. "Push."

"Sully!" she cried.

"You're all right. Just push down here. Not in your face so much," Sully whispered, reaching one hand up to stroke her wrinkled brow. "Push."

She tried to relax her face a bit and focused her efforts on pushing down low. He watched as the baby's wet head appeared again.

"Oh, there ya go. There's the head," he said. "Ya got it. Push."

"No, don't bend my legs so much!" she protested.

"Sorry." He immediately lowered her leg a bit and Elizabeth lowered her other. "Push. Push."

She clutched the tail of his shirt in one hand and dug her foot into his side, bearing down again. It helped so much to have Sully gently urging her on. She felt safe to just lie back and listen to him and allow him to direct her. He told her when to push and when to rest and was right there to hold onto. He was wonderful, as always.

"Right down here. Push." He gently stroked her leg as he watched her progress. "Push. There ya go. Doin' so good, Michaela. Push."

"It's over," she choked out, her face still straining.

"Stop pushin'. Stop pushin' then," he said, lowering her leg to the bed.

"I can't hold it down," she said with a gasp.

"That's all right. Just let it go back up. It's gonna take some time."

She let out her breath in defeat and the baby immediately slipped back inside. "Oh, my back. Why is this taking so long? What's wrong?"

"Nothin's wrong. Everything's fine. Just takes time," Sully said reassuringly, smoothing her brow.

"It's good that it's nice and slow, Michaela," Elizabeth spoke up reassuringly. "You want to allow lots of time to accommodate that baby's head."

"Let the baby's head stretch your skin nice and easy and maybe ya won't tear," Sully added, grabbing the cloth and bathing her face again. "Just take your time. This ain't a race."

She nodded, squeezing his hand and closing her eyes. She had been feeling so inadequate and useless, but Sully and Elizabeth's earnest assurances that she was doing fine and that an unhurried birth was actually a good thing, eased her anxiety a bit. Sully and Elizabeth seemed to have confidence everything was just fine, or at least they pretended they did. She felt safe in their reassuring presence. "The heartbeat. We should check the heartbeat again," she whispered.

"I'm sure she's doing wonderfully," Elizabeth said as Sully grabbed her stethoscope out of her bag.

"Here ya go," he said, helping place it in Michaela's ears. She guided the bell low on her belly and looked down as she listened. Lightning struck nearby, brightening the room for a brief moment. At last she removed the stethoscope and handed it back to Sully.

Sully tucked the stethoscope in her bag. He watched her rest for a moment and wondered if she was going to tell him what she had heard. He finally couldn't wait any longer.

"How's it sound? How's it doin'?" he asked.

"Good. Perfect," she murmured.

"Good," he replied. He cupped his hand around her toes. She felt a little chilly to him. "Your feet cold? Ya need some socks?"

"No, I'm all right."

"Can ya sit forward, I'll put some pressure on your back? Maybe that'll help."

She shook her head miserably.

"What do ya want? Tell me what to do," he said helplessly.

"Stop asking me questions. I don't know. I don't know what I want."

He squeezed her arm. "That's all right. That's all right. Just rest then." He stroked her brow for a few minutes and she relaxed so much under his touch he thought she was asleep. But suddenly she tossed her head a little and emitted a soft groan.

"Ya havin' one?" he asked, pulling back on her leg as Elizabeth quickly moved to pull back her other leg.

Her face reddened and she squeezed up her eyes shut and focused on bearing down.

"Good, good, good," Sully whispered.

"Yes. Deep breath again," Elizabeth instructed.

She pushed again, digging her elbows into the mattress and emitting some deep, pained grunts.

"Push. There's the baby's head," Sully said. "I know it hurts. Just keep pushin'."

She held onto his arm and complied, holding her breath and pushing as hard as she could.

He burst into a smile, leaning forward. "Oh. There's the baby's head! Push."

She looked at him angrily. "Sully, no, you're holding my leg too far back! You're hurting me!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured remorsefully, lowering her leg and smoothing her hair. "I'm sorry. How's this?"

She nodded and pushed again, scrunching her shoulders upward and making a face. At last she let out a big gasp.

He lowered her leg to the bed. "Comes out a little more every time ya push."

"Is it back in now?"

"Don't worry. Just a couple more pushes and it's gonna stay down."

"You keep saying that," she protested.

"Well, because it's true," Elizabeth spoke up.

"I feel like it wants to come out through my back. It's going to break my tailbone before this is over."

"I'm sorry," Sully murmured. "I wish I could do it for ya."

"Oh, as if you could!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "You men would never survive it!"

He smiled softly and gazed at Michaela lovingly. "You're doin' so amazin'. Just try an' push right down here." He smoothed his fingers down her shoulder. "Just keep everything else relaxed when ya push. Your face. Your shoulders, too."

"I think I'm going to faint."

"Breathe nice and deep," he instructed. "You're holdin' your breath too much."

"Sully, please, stop criticizing her," Elizabeth scolded. "For heaven's sake, what do you know about it?"

"I ain't criticizin'," he protested.

"Yes you are," she retorted. "You did this to her in the first place. If I were you I'd keep quiet unless asked."

He raised his eyebrows. "That ain't fair. It wasn't all me."

"They all say that."

"Stop fighting," Michaela blurted. "Sully, I'm going to faint. Stop fighting and help me."

"I'm right here. Rest your head back," he instructed patiently, laying her head against the pillows. "Breathe. Take deep breaths, give the baby lots of air."

She complied, taking some shaky breaths.

Elizabeth grabbed the glass of water. "Drink, Michaela."

She gratefully took a few sips as Sully held her head up. Then he rested it back against her pillow. "It's so hot in here," she said despairingly.

"Keep breathin'," he told her as Elizabeth quickly grabbed a cloth and bathed her face. "That's good. That's good." He unbuttoned the sleeves of her nightgown and rolled them up her arms a bit.

She glanced at him tiredly. "I keep feeling like I'm going to pass out."

"That's all right. If ya do we're right here."

"I feel so overheated!" she bemoaned. "It's just one hot flush after another!"

Elizabeth found the fan again and opened it. "Here we are. This will make you feel better, dear."

Sully watched Elizabeth fan her face and then he raised Michaela's hand and gave it a soft kiss. "Close your eyes, take some deep breaths. We're right here for ya. We ain't leavin' ya," he whispered reassuringly.

Katie clutched the banister at the base of the staircase and looked up worriedly. She could hear her grandmother and father's hushed, calming voices, interspersed with her mother's much more urgent, piercing moans and groans. Her brothers were sitting at the table nearby, arms folded in front of them as they waited.

"How long does it take to have a baby?" Red Eagle whispered timidly.

Byron shrugged, fingering the doily on the table. "I don't know. I think a long time."

"I've never really seen a baby get born, have you?"

"No. Just a calf once."

"Oh, yeah." He heaved a sigh. "Did Mama cry this much when Jack was born?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. I was too little."

"Why does it hurt so much?" he asked.

He bit his lip thoughtfully. "It just does. Mama said it just hurts."

Michaela suddenly screeched again and the children all looked toward the staircase restlessly.

Red Eagle's eyes welled with tears. "Byron, do you think…you think Mama might die?"

"No. Gran'ma's with her. And Papa," he said sensibly.

"Oh," Red Eagle replied. He cleared his throat. "I'm scared. Are you?"

"No," Byron said quickly. He hedged a bit. "Maybe a little."

"I wish Gran'ma was with us. I don't like being down here by ourselves."

"Mama must need her," Katie said unsteadily, joining them at the table. "She must need Gran'ma up there."

"Oh," Red Eagle replied, satisfied with that answer. He flinched as screeching turned into a succession of powerful, low-pitched screams.

"I'm scared, too," Katie suddenly admitted tearfully. She sat beside Byron and whimpered a little.

"Gran'ma's had lots of babies. Almost five," Byron spoke up bravely. "She'll help Mama feel better. She won't let it hurt too much." He gave his older sister a small, comforting hug. "Don't worry. Don't cry. Gran'ma's there."

"Good," Katie said softly, wiping away her tears.

Sully held onto Michaela's leg as she pushed, all his focus on the little portion of wet hair that slipped out every time she gave some good pushes. Elizabeth held her other leg and just stood there patiently. In fact it was the quietest, most patient Sully had ever seen Michaela's mother, and he found himself quite in awe of her. She was a calming influence that Michaela really seemed to respond to. He was responsible for giving Michaela verbal encouragement, and Elizabeth was another woman in the room who truly understood what she was going through and whom Michaela could lay all her fears and doubts on. Elizabeth had been through the same thing many times and was a gentle reminder that it could be done.

"Big push," he said. "Big push."

She gasped for air and pushed again, pulling her legs far apart. He squeezed her knee sympathetically. It seemed that for all the progress she appeared to be making during a contraction, the baby would slip right back up again when the contraction eased and she would have to start all over on the next one. He was beginning to wonder if they were going to be able to achieve the uncomplicated, unmediated delivery they both had wanted, but he wasn't about to let Michaela know that he had any doubts.

"What if I can't do this?" she suddenly blurted, letting out her breath. "Sully."

"You can," he replied, lowering her leg to the bed and gazing at her.

She had reached her breaking point. She was incredibly discouraged and fast losing confidence in herself. "Sully, I need an operation. I need a cesarean section. I can't do this. The baby's face up. I can't deliver it vaginally. It's not working."

"It is working or it wouldn't be right here," Sully said. "It's gonna come out, I promise."

"No, I'm done. I'm done!"

"Ya gotta keep goin'. You're almost there," he said weakly.

She burst into tears. "I just think I can't do this without an operation. I don't want you to leave but I think we need Andrew."

He crouched down and caressed her cheek. "Shh. Shh. It's all right." He looked at Elizabeth a little helplessly, not sure what to do. It was hard to tell if Michaela was being irrational or was actually giving him her sound medical opinion. He certainly didn't want to take off now and leave her here again, but he didn't know how much longer Michaela could realistically keep this up. She was already so drained. If she truly couldn't deliver the baby normally there wouldn't be much they could do for her without Andrew's assistance. It was heartbreaking to think that after all her hard work she might very likely have to have an operation anyway. It was no wonder she was so upset.

He patted Michaela's arm. "I'm gonna get ya some fresh towels first all right? I'm just gonna go get some towels in the cabinet."

She nodded weakly and he got up and walked to the cabinet across the room, opening it. Elizabeth got up and made her way over to him, leaning on her cane.

"Are you actually thinking about leaving us again?" she demanded in a whisper.

"I'm gonna have to," he whispered. "Ya heard her. She wants Dr. Cook."

"Women say all kinds of things they don't really mean when they're having a baby. I told Michaela's father I hated him, I never wanted to see him again. Obviously I was delusional."

"Elizabeth, I gotta do what she wants."

"No you don't. She's in no fit state to be telling us what to do. Sully, please don't leave."

"Sully," Michaela called plaintively.

"I'm right here. I'm right here," he replied, hurrying back to the bedside with the towels. He quickly replaced the towel between her legs with a fresh one. "How ya doin'? This better?"

She looked up at him decisively. "Sully, please. Just get him. Please."

"Ya sure about this?" Sully whispered, tenderly stroking her hand. "Michaela, ya gotta understand I go get him now I could be gone awhile."

She buried her face behind her hand despairingly. "Sully, I'm not sure of anything. I just want Andrew here," she said tearfully. A loud crack of thunder struck nearby and a bolt of lightning followed a few seconds afterward.

"Does anyone care what I think?" Elizabeth spoke up. "I think we just need to be patient, that's what I think. You're going to give it a good effort and deliver your baby."

"Michaela, baby's so close it's gonna be here by the time I get back," Sully murmured. "I'm thinkin' your ma's right, we just gotta have a little patience and it'll be over."

"It's taking so long," she bemoaned.

Sully squatted down to her level and stroked her brow, giving it a kiss. "Maybe there's somethin' else we can do to help it along. What else can we do?"

Michaela let out her breath slowly. If Andrew were here he would surely be talking about operating by now, and he would have certainly wanted to try forceps or an episiotomy. He would never have let her continue like this for so long. Had she simply been the doctor with a patient in similar straights, she would have recommended the mother try different positions and help her concentrate on bearing down as hard as she could before resorting to intervening like that. But actually going through the experience, feeling all the pain and heartache it entailed firsthand and knowing she couldn't possibly push any harder, she found herself just wanting it over with no matter what she had to submit to.

"I don't know. Forceps," she murmured.

He swallowed hard. "Forceps?"

"I could try to talk you through it. Do you think you could?"

He took a brave breath. "Yeah, if ya tell me how."

"Nonsense," Elizabeth spoke up resolutely. "There's no need for any of that just yet, Michaela. Just have an ounce of patience and it's going to be over."

"You're certain?" she asked tearfully.

"Of course," Elizabeth said. "Would I lie to you?"

"Yes," she muttered.

Elizabeth smiled softly. "Oh. Well, I promise I'm not lying this time."

"Baby's got a good heartbeat, nothin's wrong," Sully added. "Let's give it a little more time. How's that sound? Let's see what happens. Think ya can keep goin' just a little longer?"

She whimpered a little. "I don't know. I can try."

He caressed her face. "Good. I'm so proud of ya. You're doin' so good. I know it's hard."

"Yes, I'm proud of you, too," Elizabeth said softly.

"Ya wanna try maybe lyin' on your side?" he asked. "I could get at your back real easy that way."

"It might help you feel better, dear," Elizabeth said. "Moving around helps."

"I'll try it," she said with a little nod.

Sully leaned forward and helped her shift over to her left side. He lifted her hair off her neck and smoothed it, and made sure her nightgown stayed down as she moved so she could preserve a little bit of modesty.

"Just roll forward. Ya got it," he said as he handed her another pillow to place beneath her shoulders.

"How do I push like this?" she suddenly asked. "Sully, no, I can't do it like this."

"You're fine. I'll just hold your leg up." He grasped her leg and braced it against his chest. "If you're gettin' a contraction then go ahead and push."

"All right," she whimpered, drawing in her breath and holding it.

The new sensations of a different position were suddenly very frightening, and there was no time to cope with it now that another contraction had already started. But it felt so much better to have Elizabeth barreling her fist against her back and Sully holding her leg securely and keeping tabs on what was happening. She tuned out nearly everything around her but Sully and Elizabeth's voices and soothing touch and just focused on pushing when she had a contraction and resting when she didn't. She didn't know how long she kept it up like that on her side, but Sully kept promising her again and again that he could see the baby's head and that she was really making good progress and he was sure she could do this and wasn't going to need an operation. He knew she was getting increasingly uncomfortable and discouraged the longer it went on, but he was so grateful he was right with her, could watch it all enfold and play such a major role in their child's birth. He couldn't believe he had just walked in on all this not half an hour before.

"Oh, I never knew back labor was this horrendous," Michaela finally muttered.

Elizabeth wrung out a cloth and folded it. "Put this against her back, Sully. The cool cloth will make it feel better."

"This helpin' any? Lyin' on your side?" Sully asked, pressing the cloth against her back.

"I don't know. Nothing's helping anymore."

"How's the cloth feel? Better?"

"I don't know," she replied.

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, but he kept pressing it against her back anyway. "Ya know how good ya are at pushin'? You're movin' the head down so much."

She looked up at him timidly. "I sound like I'm lifting something heavy."

"That's all right. Just make whatever sounds ya need to make to get this baby out."

"I don't want the children to hear," she said fleetingly.

"They're all right. They're fine."

"It's a bit too late to worry about the children hearing in any case," Elizabeth remarked.

Her face fell and she squeezed her pillow. "Again? Why are they so close together? I'm not getting any rest in between."

"It just feels that way," Sully whispered, lifting up her leg again. "You got a couple long breaks."

Her face reddened and she pushed for a long moment, then gasped and drew in her breath again, pushing all the harder and groaning furiously.

"Good, get angry," Elizabeth said. "Sometimes that helps."

"I am angry," she retorted, grabbing Sully's shirt and pulling on it.

Sully smoothed back her hair. "You're gonna be real happy real soon here. Soon as ya see our baby. We'll put it right up on your belly to hold, all right?"

The prospect that there was actually going to be a baby at the end of it all was hard to believe. She looked at him a little skeptically and went back to her hard pushing.

At last she stopped pushing, and he lowered her leg and covered her with the sheet. He turned his attention to her back and massaged it down low with his knuckles.

"I need a different position," she said. "I feel like I'm pushing uphill."

"Hands and knees?" Sully suggested. "Think ya can hold yourself up?"

She nodded and he helped her sit up and slowly work herself onto her hands and knees. She felt so big and helpless, Sully and Elizabeth dragging her into the different positions and she just along for the ride, but she just wanted to do whatever it took to deliver the baby as soon as possible.

Sully laid the cloth on her back and pressed it down as she grunted into the next contraction. He couldn't see as well, but he could see enough to know she was still struggling with all her might to get the baby's head to come down past her pubic bone so it wouldn't slip back and birth would be imminent.

"Push, push, push," he said, pressing his hand against the cloth. "Push."

Some fluid leaked out and dripped down the inside of her thigh, and Sully took another cloth and wiped it away.

"What?" she spoke up worriedly.

"Nothin'. Keep pushin'."

He noticed Elizabeth gazing at him, silently asking him with her eyes if things were going any better. He shook his head at her discreetly and rubbed Michaela's shoulders as she whimpered. "Contraction over?"

She nodded as Elizabeth faithfully bathed her face again.

"Your back feel any better?" he whispered.

"Posterior baby," she murmured. "Face up. I'm certain of it."

"Women deliver babies like this all the time," Elizabeth spoke up, although she had no idea if that were true. "It's just a little harder, that's all."

"A little?" Michaela murmured despairingly.

"Why don't we just tell it it's gotta turn around?" Sully suggested softly. "Baby's gotta turn around so it can come out and meet its beautiful mama."

Michaela was less than amused. "I tried that," she muttered.

"Well, she just has her own agenda, that's all," Elizabeth remarked. "She wants things her way, just like her mother."

"We're gonna have a perfect little boy or girl at the end of this," Sully said, sensing she needed a reminder to keep her going. "Just keep thinkin' about that. Touch the top of the head. Reach down here."

"I said I don't want to," she retorted.

"I can't believe you still think it's a boy," Elizabeth spoke up impatiently.

Sully glanced at her. "I don't think it's a boy. I ain't sure what it is. I'm just prepared for either one."

"Stubborn," she remarked.

"How's that stubborn? You're the one keeps insistin' it's a girl. What if it's not?"

Elizabeth gave Michaela's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Well, we'll just have to send him back, won't we? We ordered a girl."

Sully was relieved when Michaela let out the softest of chuckles. He took it as a good sign she was still able to maintain a little sense of humor, at least when she wasn't having a contraction. Suddenly she shifted restlessly. "Oh. Why can't I find a good position?"

"There are no good positions at this point," Elizabeth said resolutely.

"Get that cloth off my back. It's making me all wet," she protested.

"It's off," Sully said, immediately handing the cloth to Elizabeth. "It's gone."

"I can't be in this bed anymore," she said, shaking her head vehemently. "I have to move."

"All right. All right," Sully said, immediately grabbing onto her arms and helping her get out of bed. "Where ya wanna go? Ya wanna lean over the bed?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, the chair."

She was surprised at how hard it was to move. The baby was so low she couldn't even stand straight. She suddenly feared if she moved the baby was going to slip right out. But she knew it was likely going to take a lot more effort on her part before this particular baby would be born. She struggled to take even a small step forward and the movement suddenly brought on a huge contraction.

"Oh, my God. Sully." She instinctively grabbed Sully's shoulders and got down into a full on squat, taking him with her. She drew in her breath and cried out as she could feel her belly tensing up involuntarily and pressing down hard on the baby.

"Hang on to me," he soothed. "Push if ya need to. It's all right."

"Towels!" she murmured. "Mother, hurry."

Elizabeth quickly moved to grab another towel and place it between her legs, just in time to catch a few drops of blood as Michaela gave in and pushed with all her might. Michaela's awkward position made Elizabeth nervous, but it had done a lot to take some of the pressure off her back. Elizabeth would have preferred she get on her back in bed, but there was no reasoning with Michaela at this stage in her labor. So she reluctantly kept her mouth shut and allowed Michaela to do what she wanted. And it was a relief to have Sully there to take over, she had to admit.

Sully reached behind her, kneaded and put pressure on her sore muscles, and tenderly kissed her cheek a few times. "Glad I made it in time."

She nodded, too tired to explain just how glad she was, too. He had missed Byron's birth. She never wanted him to miss another. She rested her forehead against his shoulder and bore down determinedly.

"That's the way. Good. Good," he encouraged. "Push."

She moaned against his shoulder and gripped his shirt tightly. It felt good to just bury her face against him, close her eyes and visualize her body opening up and letting the baby out. His familiar smell was so comforting, his voice soothing, and he was so strong. She felt like he was doing it with her. Elizabeth too seemed to be feeling every contraction. The three of them were a real team in the hard work that needed to be done.

"Keep goin'. Push. Keep pushin'," he encouraged. "Push, push."

"Keep going. Bear down," Elizabeth added softly.

She lifted her head and again drew in her breath, her face reddening as she strained. Elizabeth got down beside her and held her hand, and Sully kept firm pressure on her back and whispered words of reassurance. He bent his head a little to watch her progress, and was thrilled to see more and more dark hair appearing each time she bore down.

"Push. Ya got it," he said elatedly. "Push it out. Real hard. Push. I see it!"

Michaela was thoroughly done in, and wanted to give up right there, but Sully was so excited she just had to keep going for him. She bore down with all she had while Sully rubbed her back and kept encouraging her to push. At last the contraction ended and she panted and rested her head against his shoulder.

Elizabeth gently rubbed her arm. "Well done. Have a rest."

Sully soothingly stroked her hair as she breathed deeply, clutching his shoulders the whole time. "Hang onto me," he whispered. "I got ya." He gave her head a gentle kiss and watched as Elizabeth lifted her hair from her neck and gently bathed the back of her neck. He talked to her quietly for a few minutes, telling her how well she was doing, how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. She was too tired to say much back, but he could feel her grip him a little tighter every time he told her he loved her.

She groaned softly and gritted her teeth.

"Ya gettin' one? Let's push."

She drew in her breath and bore down, pressing her bottom down toward the floor and putting everything into it. She leaned forward to take a deep breath and then pressed everything back down again, groaning hard. It all felt so primal, so instinctual. Her body knew exactly what it needed to do to birth her baby and she had no choice but to submit to it.

"Oh my God, it's starting to burn. Is it coming out?" she suddenly asked tearfully.

"I ain't sure. Ya feel it comin' down?"

She nodded vehemently.

He pulled back her nightgown and glanced down. The room was so dim it was hard to get a good look with her in this position.

"Yeah, I see it. Elizabeth, can ya light the lamp?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," Elizabeth replied, immediately getting up and finding a box of matches. She struck one and lit the lamp on the nightstand and turned it up as high as it would go.

"We're gonna get a little more light in here so I can see what's goin' on, all right? This baby's comin'," he said. He looked down and watched as she gave one last push with the contraction. Finally he could see more than just a small lock of the baby's hair. Now the very top portion of the head was emerging, the hair soaked and a thick bit of blood-tinged mucus clinging to it. He was so relieved she was at last making some real progress he burst into a huge smile and squeezed her shoulder. "I can see a lot more of head!"

She let out her breath and leaned back against the mattress exhaustedly.

"You're doin' so good. Good job," he murmured lovingly, helping her down to her bottom. "That was a good one. Rest. Take some slow breaths. I think it's gonna stay down now." He glanced at Elizabeth. "Let's get her some water."

Elizabeth immediately grabbed the glass off the night table and handed it to Sully.

"Here, take a sip of water," Sully instructed, holding the glass to her lips.

She weakly clutched the glass and let a little of the water slip past her dry lips.

"I feel like it's going to break my back," Michaela said despairingly. "It's pressing so hard against my spine. My spine's going to break in two."

"It's gonna be here and your back'll feel better," he vowed.

"I can't do this."

"You can. You can. You're right here," he told her.

"My back's going to break, Sully," she said, tears falling down her cheeks. "I need chloroform, laudanum. Something."

"No ya don't," he murmured helplessly. "Ya don't want that, remember?"

"I changed my mind!"

He smoothed her hair sympathetically. "You're doin' fine. Everything's goin' fine. You're doin' it just fine."

"Oh my God my back," she whimpered. "I can't do it without drugs! I can't! I have to take something. Sully!"

"Michaela, ya said they're too dangerous for the baby."

"I didn't know I was going to have back labor! Sully, please. Chloroform. Please. Sully, please! Sully, I'm serious about this. I'm serious. Please."

He held her hand, a little frightened. He had never known Michaela to ask for drugs for anything. She had never breathed a word about medicine when she was in labor before, now here she was begging and pleading. He couldn't fathom the kind of pain that could cause someone as strong and determined as she was when it came to coping with discomfort to so readily want to turn to medicine for help. He certainly wanted to give her something, barely able to watch her in this much grief. But strong medicine like that could be risky, she had told him that herself many times, and though many doctors freely gave laboring women a variety of opiate-based drugs, she generally stayed away from it in her own practice. No one had been able to conclusively prove opium or similar drugs wouldn't reach the baby, and when it did it could depress its heart rate or make it dangerously lethargic. And Sully suspected it was far too late for any of that anyway. By the time he found something useful in her medical bag the baby was going to be here. And even if he could get something in her in time, he didn't want her unconscious or even incoherent during the final moments of her labor. He needed her as lucid as possible so she could help him and give him instructions. He knew she would thank him later for not giving in to her, as much as he wished he could.

"You can do it," he said simply, stroking her arm from her elbow down to her hand. "Yes ya can. Yes ya can. You are so strong. So strong. I love you. Baby's gonna be here real soon. Yes ya can."

"No. I can't," she whimpered.

"Yes you can, Michaela," Elizabeth echoed softly. "Your baby's being born right now. It's too late to take something."

"I don't care," she muttered.

Elizabeth rubbed her other arm. "You're doing a beautiful job without any medicine at all. You're so brave. You want to be awake when your baby's here. You want to see her and hold her, don't you?"

Michaela managed a small nod. Holding her baby did sound very good at the moment. She didn't ask for drugs again. She seemed to realize neither of them were going to budge on this, so she just squeezed Sully's hand gently and closed her eyes, resigning herself to the fact that she was going to have to rely on her husband and mother to help her cope with her painful labor. She suddenly was frightened to have either of them leave her side for even a second. When Elizabeth slowly got to her feet and walked to the basin, retrieving the cloth inside and wringing it out, Michaela panicked.

"Mother, no. Come back," she pleaded hoarsely. "I need you to hold my hand."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said reassuringly. "I'm just getting you a fresh cloth for your face."

She nodded, closing her eyes as Elizabeth returned to her side and smoothed the cloth down her brow, cheeks and neck.

"How's this, my darling? Better?"

Michaela nodded again, grasping Elizabeth's hand and drawing in her breath.

"I feel like I'm going to be sick again," she whispered. "Oh."

Sully found a small basin she had placed at the end of the bed and held it to her chest. "Here's the basin right here. Ya can throw up in here."

She weakly clutched one end of the basin, coughed into it and vomited a little, and Sully immediately moved to hold back her hair.

"It's all right," he whispered. "It's all right." She sat back and he grabbed another cloth and wiped her mouth. "Ya all right?"

"I don't know why I'm so nauseous."

"It's normal," Elizabeth said reassuringly. "I threw up when I was in labor, too. It means you're almost there."

"Almost there," Sully echoed.

"I'm not," she protested.

"Yes ya are. You are. Reach down here between your legs," Sully whispered.

She shook her head vehemently.

He grasped her hand and guided it down so her fingers grazed their baby's puckered, damp scalp. "Michaela, feel. Just inside now."

"Oh. What is that? Sully, what is that?" She gasped, overwhelmed, and quickly removed her hand.

He rubbed her back lovingly. "That's the baby. That's our baby right there. Ya feel that? The head's stayin' down now."

"Yes. Oh." Her face turned bright red as she strained with all her might. Sully watched her worriedly and lifted up her nightgown.

"Ya have a contraction?" Sully asked perceptively, putting aside the basin. "Don't push unless ya got one."

"Michaela, wait for a contraction," Elizabeth added. "You're wasting your efforts otherwise."

She let out her breath in a big gasp. "I can barely tell the difference. There's so much pressure," she replied exhaustedly. "I just want to keep pushing."

"Just rest. Wait for a contraction. We'll help ya," Sully replied. "We'll feel your belly." He reached forward, pressing his hand to her stomach.

She reached her hand down again and touched the top of the head, closing her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me it was right here?" she murmured. "Oh, can you see it, Sully?"

He chuckled. "Oh, yeah, I see it. I been tellin' ya. I been tellin' ya." Her belly tightened up with a big contraction. "There's one. You're gettin' one. Now ya can push." He helped her back into the squat and she immediately complied.

"It burns," she said, gritting her teeth.

He watched enthralled as the top of the baby's head eased out. She drew in her breath again and bore down, moving the baby all the closer. "Push hard. There ya go," he murmured. "I can see it right here. Push. Push."

"Why won't it come out? Why isn't this working?" she demanded despairingly.

"It is, Michaela. It is," Elizabeth replied. "You're making wonderful progress."

"You're almost there," Sully said reassuringly. "Push. You're so strong. Push."

She bore down, groaning in frustration. "Sully!"

"I'm right here. We're right with ya," Sully said. "Deep breath and push. You can do it. I know your back hurts. Push through it. Push. Push. Hard. Push."

She grabbed the bed post, curled forward and gave a hard and long shove, screaming along with it. "Oh, burning!"

"Push through it. Push, push. That's the way," Sully whispered. "Just like that and it's gonna be here. That's a good push."

"Oh, beautiful job, Michaela," Elizabeth added. "You're doing wonderfully."

"I can't hold myself up anymore," she blurted in a panic. "My legs, they're too weak!"

"Ya wanna try a different position?" he suggested.

"No, I want to keep squatting but I can't," she said tearfully. "My legs are going to give out. Sully, do something. Hurry, I have to push. I can't stop pushing."

Sully quickly moved to her side and held her securely. "We got ya. Put your arm around my shoulders and push."

"And put your other arm around me," Elizabeth added. "We'll hold you up."

Michaela wrapped her arms around them and leaned heavily on them, then went right back to pushing.

"This better?" Sully murmured.

Her answer was to grip his shirt and scrunch up her eyes, groaning hard.

"Oh. Yes, that's the way," Elizabeth encouraged. "That's very effective pushing."

Sully moved forward a bit and smiled as he watched the baby's head working its way out. "Push. Push. Here it is. Here it comes. Oh, Michaela."

"It burns." She bore down one last time, screeching shrilly. Then she let out her breath with a little cry. "I'm sorry."

"Shh, you're doin' fine," Sully said reassuringly. "Do what ya need to do."

"Hush. Don't apologize," Elizabeth added.

"I'm not hurting you am I, Mother?" Michaela asked worriedly.

"No of course not. Lean on me as much as you like."

"Sully, your ribs."

"My ribs are fine," he replied, amazed that she had any energy left to be concerned about them at this stage in her labor. "Don't worry about us. Focus on the baby."

"The contraction's over," she murmured.

"Just rest," Sully replied, helping her out of the squat so she could rest her legs for a moment. "Take some deep breaths. Head's stayin' down." He pressed the back of his arm to his forehead. He was sweating profusely, as was Elizabeth. They were working hard themselves holding Michaela up and supporting her through every contraction. He could see Elizabeth was getting tired just as he was, but she was as steadfast as ever, determined to be there for her daughter no matter how exhausting it was becoming.

"This is never going to work," Michaela muttered. "I'm not going to be able to do this."

"You are. It's workin'. Baby's comin' right down," Sully replied. "Not much longer and you're gonna be holdin' our baby in your arms. It's workin'. Baby's just takin' its time. Let it take its time."

"I'm not doing this," she said, shaking her head.

"Yes ya are," he soothed, not sure what she meant. "You're doin' fine."

"You're telling me to push and I'm not!" she said with frustration.

"You are pushin'. You are," he whispered. "You're doin' it just perfect. The baby's comin' down real good when ya squat. Ya got most of the top of the head out."

Elizabeth seemed unfazed by how irrational her daughter was being. She didn't bother to argue with her. She just kept holding her hand and gently rubbing her shoulder. "Touch the baby's head again, Michaela," she suggested. "Feel how much progress you've made."

She reached her hand down and pressed her fingers to the head, encouraged. "Oh, my God. Sully, there it is. It's crowning," she said with surprise. "The head's crowning!"

"Yeah, it is. Ya wanna see with a mirror?" Sully asked. "I'll get ya the mirror."

"No!" She withdrew her hand. She could barely cope with touching it, she certainly didn't want to see it. She knew exactly what it must look like and it was nothing she wanted to see right now. Sully describing to her every last detail of what was happening was more than enough to satisfy her. "No, I just need this to be over. I need this baby to stop breaking my back."

"It will be," Elizabeth said with a soft smile. "Now stop talking and save your strength."

Michaela nodded and breathed slowly, trying to stay calm and in control.

He caressed her cheek. "Ya don't need an operation. Ya don't need anything. Ya did this all on your own."

"Yes, what an incredible job," Elizabeth added. "You're just incredible."

He smiled softly. "Ya felt that hair there? It's got hair, Michaela. Lots of it just like her ma." He held her hand securely in his and watched her rest for a moment, then glanced at his mother-in-law. "Elizabeth, you holdin' up all right?" he whispered. "Ya need a chair?"

"No, I'm fine," she whispered back as she soothingly stroked Michaela's hair.

He gazed at her in disbelief. "You're tellin' me after you been lyin' in bed all this time, here ya are on your feet walkin' up and down stairs?"

She glared at him defensively. "What, are you suggesting I was exaggerating my grave condition?"

"No. I just think ya made an awful quick recovery."

"Well, don't hold back, Sully," she scolded. "Perhaps I just didn't have a good reason to get out of bed until now, did you ever consider that?"

He suddenly noticed Michaela's lips turning up into a decisive grin.

"Is that a little smile?" Sully whispered, gently touching her cheek.

"Mm," she replied, her lips turning up all the more.

"Mm," Sully echoed, smoothing her hair from her face.

Elizabeth eyed her with amazement. "You're not supposed to smile in labor, Michaela. What could possibly be funny?"

"You two. Quarreling over I don’t even know what while I’m trying to have a baby," she explained.

"Oh," Elizabeth murmured. "Well, I suppose now isn't the best time to work out our differences."

Sully chuckled softly. Whatever they had been fighting over, it didn't matter. He just wanted to be right by Michaela's side and help her get through what was turning out to be not exactly an effortless delivery. He continued to rub Michaela's arm, trying to help her relax and regroup as much as possible before another contraction came. "Your cheeks are all red," he whispered.

"I'm going to break the blood vessels in my face pushing so hard," she muttered.

He kissed her forehead. "That's all right. Just keep doin' what you're doin'. It's workin'."

"It's working," Elizabeth echoed.

Sully gave her another soft kiss. "This is how Cheyenne women always have their babies. Go off someplace quiet and squat down like this."

"It is?" she murmured. Somehow knowing that this was how an ancient people had been doing it for centuries gave her confidence she could do it too.

"Yep." He kissed her hair.

She suddenly grimaced and got back into a squatting position on her own, tucking her chin to her chest and bearing down.

"Contraction?" Sully murmured, shifting up her nightgown again just as she gave another hard, long push, easing the baby down all the more. Her legs suddenly began quivering.

Sully quickly moved back to her side and Elizabeth got on her other side and gripped her securely so she wouldn't have to rely on her legs so much to hold herself up.

"Push. Push. There ya go. Push," he murmured. He grasped her knee and pulled it back a little so he could see better. "Push right down here, Michaela."

"Come on, baby. Please come out," she pleaded tearfully. She gave several more hard shoves, desperately trying to push through the pain of her baby crowning. "It's burning. It stings!" she suddenly said, voice boarding on panic. She pushed for another few seconds, then suddenly stopped with a cry. "Sully, it burns so much."

He wrinkled his brow. "Yeah, it does. That's the baby's head. It's almost out."

She screamed through a big push, so frightened by the burning sensation she didn't know what else to do except keep pushing through it.

"So close. Baby's almost here," Sully said reassuringly.

Finally she let out her breath with a soft cry.

"Here, rest your head back." Sully guided her head against the mattress. "Slow breaths, in and out. Almost there."

"I'm going to throw up."

He held the basin back to her chest and smoothed her hair. "Basin's right here."

It seemed to reassure her to have him hold the basin even if she didn't actually lose it. She gripped his arm and just focused on breathing and panting. He tenderly smoothed her hair and caressed her cheek.

"Push real hard next contraction and I think you'll have that baby's head," he whispered. "You're so close."

She glanced at him forlornly. "Sully. Burning."

"Baby's right here," he explained helpfully. "The baby's head is halfway out. That's why it's burnin'."

She groaned helplessly. "It feels like prickly sharpness sometimes, too. Oh. Why does it feel like that?"

"It's normal," Elizabeth said. "It's perfectly normal, dear. It'll go away."

"It's normal," Sully echoed, smoothing her hair. "Relax. Breathe."

She closed her eyes and just breathed quietly for a long moment, struggling to cope with the discomforts of the final moments of the birth.

She cried out suddenly.

"Go ahead an' push," he encouraged.

"I'm afraid to. It feels like I'm tearing," she blurted.

"Then don't push so hard if it feels like that," Elizabeth said.

She kept her head back against the mattress and took some slow, deep breaths.

"Put some pressure on the baby's head, Sully," she murmured. "Press it down with your fingers."

He reached his hand down and pressed his fingers to the top of the head, gently pushing it downward. She suddenly held her breath and strained a little, then let it out with a gasp and went back to her slow breathing.

"It's comin' out all on its own. Ya don't need to push hard," he spoke up.

She gave a few more steady, gentle pushes, then let out her breath again and panted slowly.

"Keep pressin' on the head?" Sully asked.

She nodded, closing her eyes. "I don't want it tearing me up top near the urethra. Try to press it away from that."

He nodded and kept his hand down there while she breathed.

She winced suddenly. "Oh, I'm going to need to push. Sully."

"Then push," he instructed. "Push out our baby."

She leaned forward and pushed with a new urgency, willing the horrible burning sensation to go away and knowing the only way to make it do so was to deliver the baby's head.

"Push."

She screamed and held onto him, bearing down hard. She bore down again, letting out a panicked screech. "Sully, I'm tearing!"

"Ya ain't tearin'. All right, all right, just go slow again. Ease it out slow."

She let out her breath and tried to listen to Sully. She so badly didn't want stitches this time, having endured that with all of her previous births and vividly recalling how painful that had been. Every bone in her body wanted to push as hard as she could, but she knew Sully was right that she needed to do it slow and controlled if she didn't want to tear again. However she had not anticipated how difficult that would be.

"Oh, it burns," she murmured, squeezing Elizabeth's hand all the harder and groaning forcefully.

"Yes it does. This part hurts the most," Elizabeth murmured sympathetically. "You're almost through. Your baby's about to be born."

Michaela instinctively reached her hand down to press her fingers to the baby's scalp, providing gentle counter pressure to the head as she grunted and groaned through a big contraction. If the baby was face up, like she thought, it was all the more likely she might tear. She tried not to bear down, but instead tried to give the baby's head time to extend the delicate skin of her perineum. She couldn't stop pushing completely, but she pushed as gently as she could, wincing and squeezing Elizabeth's hand and holding back as much as possible.

"Just like that," Sully whispered. "You're doin' so good. Easy. Slow. Little pushes. Everything's fine. It's comin'."

She cried out. "I need something, some mineral oil! Something to help it slip out!"

"We can't get up, sweetheart," Elizabeth said sensibly. "We're holding you up."

"It's going to tear me in two!" she cried.

"I got it," Sully said, cupping his hand around hers and supporting the baby's head. "I won't let it come out too fast. Ya can go ahead an' push 'cause I got it."

She let her legs fall together and writhed a bit as if trying to get away. She screeched and grabbed Sully's shirt, pulling it hard.

"No, no, Michaela. Open up your legs. It hurts. Just let the baby come out," Elizabeth instructed.

"Michaela, ya gotta open up your legs," he told her. "Come on."

Sully quickly grabbed her knee and Elizabeth grabbed the other and they pulled her legs back. She let out a deep growl, curled forward and pushed, moving the head out all the way down to its brow.

"Everything's fine. Ya got it. Ya ain't tearin'," he said reassuringly.

The contraction was over, but she could care less. She took one last deep breath and bore down long and steady, groaning hard with the effort. Sully watched in awe as the head delivered into their hands, along with a good amount of fluid that spilled onto the towel between her legs.

"There it is! There's the head!" he spoke up excitedly. "Baby's head's out all the way, Michaela."

"It is? Good!" she replied, resting her head back and panting hard.

He chuckled softly and squeezed her shoulder.

"The head's out, dear. The hardest part's over," Elizabeth spoke up reassuringly. "Oh, my goodness. Oh, you did it. Just pant, dear. Pant."

"Sully, deliver the baby," she said breathlessly. "Help the baby."

He gave her shoulder a final kiss and moved down between her legs to receive their new child. He smiled softly at the sight of their baby's sweet little face, its little eyes squeezed up tight and its dark hair pressed against its scalp. "Just hang on. The rest of it's comin'. You're doin' so good. The head's out." He glanced at his mother-in-law. "Elizabeth, ya wanna see this?"

Elizabeth hesitated, lingering with Michaela. She had certainly never seen a baby being born. It was absolutely unheard of to be present at such an intimate event, unless of course one was a doctor or midwife, or the mother herself. When she was giving birth to her own daughters, she was far too modest to do anything but close her eyes and turn her head, leaving everything up to Josef. Sully gently grasped Elizabeth's arm reassuringly and guided her a few steps back.

Elizabeth gasped and pressed her hand to her mouth. "Oh, look at that little face. Oh, Michaela."

"Is it all right? Is she pink? Is she all right?" Michaela spoke up. She tried for a moment to look, but couldn't see past her belly. She was going to have to rely on Sully and Elizabeth to tell her what was happening.

"She's perfect, dear," Elizabeth said. "She's fine. She's face up, just as you suspected. Just as you said."

"She is? She's face up? Oh, no wonder my back. Oh, I knew it," she murmured. She panted all the harder. "Check for the cord, Sully. Around the neck. Oh, I knew you were face up."

He worked his finger along the baby's neck, surprised when he quickly found a blue cord. "Yeah. There's the cord right here. Should I cut it?"

"Try to slip it over the head first. See if it's loose enough. Hurry, Sully." She bit her lip and let out a low moan, and couldn't help bearing down a little. It was a powerful reflex she could barely control.

"Michaela, pant," Elizabeth instructed. "Don't push, just pant. Let Sully get the cord."

She nodded and panted as hard as she could as Sully hooked his finger under the cord and carefully brought it up over the baby's head. He suddenly paused, looking up frantically. "It's still around the neck. It's around twice!"

"Oh, no," Elizabeth said with a soft gasp. "Oh, please let them be fine."

"No, nothing's wrong. Just slip it over again," Michaela instructed calmly. "Just do it again. Oh."

He worked his finger under the cord again and brought it up. It was a tighter fit this time, but he managed to work it across the baby's head. "All right. I got it."

"Now suction out the mouth as much as you can. The bulb syringe." She instinctively reached up and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her nightgown, never more eager to feel the baby skin to skin and to nurse her and hold her to her breast.

"All right," he murmured, grasping the bulb syringe and squeezing the rubber, then gently inserting it between the baby's lips and releasing. He removed it and squeezed the fluid and mucus onto a towel, then repeated the process.

"What's happening?" she asked impatiently.

"Nothing. Sully's cleaning the mouth out," Elizabeth explained.

"You're suctioning out everything, Sully?" she asked exhaustedly.

He glanced up, emptying the bulb syringe onto the towel again. "Yeah, I'm tryin'. Hang on."

"Oh, Michaela, what a sweetheart," Elizabeth murmured, crouching down beside her again. "Oh, she's gorgeous. Chubby little cheeks. Sully's just getting her little mouth all cleaned out."

She nodded and breathed slowly. She could hear a lot of suctioning as Sully worked, and it certainly felt a lot better now that the head was finally out, but she still felt very helpless unable to do anything but wait for the next contraction. Despite their assurances that the baby seemed just fine, she was very ready to have it all over with and see for herself. She thought she must be quite the sight, squatting there with a baby's head between her legs. But she would have done anything to get her child out at that point, which certainly included squatting down on the floor, and at the moment she didn't care how awkward she might look.

"Michaela? Should I suction the nose too?" Sully asked nervously.

"Sully, wait. Stop! I'm having a contraction!"

"Then push," he told her, putting the bulb syringe aside. "Push out the baby."

"Sully, you have it?"

"I got it. I got it. Just push. Push."

"Push, sweetheart," Elizabeth encouraged. "Big push for those shoulders and she'll be here."

She stopped panting, grabbed her mother's arms, took a deep breath and yelled as she pushed. Sully kept his hands gently on the head, poised to catch the baby. Nothing happened, and he was starting to wonder if he should try pulling on it a little.

Michaela groaned and rested her head back as if giving up.

"Michaela, it's not movin'," Sully said nervously. "Shoulders ain't comin'."

She gave another weak attempt at pushing again, letting out a big grunt, and nothing happened. She pulled her legs back and strained again, grunting hard.

"What should I do? It ain't comin'," he said a little more frantically. "Should I pull?"

"No. No don't pull," she gasped.

"Then you gotta push," he replied. "Come on. Push hard."

Elizabeth grabbed her hand resolutely. "Michaela, get this baby born! Push hard!"

She glanced at her mother, struck by the fear in her eyes, and suddenly gathered together the last of her strength, leaned forward and pushed as hard as she could. She could feel the baby shifting inside her, a strange but wonderful sensation. She took another breath and bore down all the harder, suddenly wanting the baby out right now.

"There ya go. There's one shoulder," Sully murmured excitedly. "Arms are out. Push."

Michaela took one last deep breath and screamed fiercely, bearing down with everything she had. The baby slipped straight into Sully's hands, arms flailing and legs kicking. More amniotic fluid followed immediately, a bit blood-tinged this time. He lowered the baby to the towel and watched in awe as it writhed. Michaela panted exhaustedly and looked down and couldn't see a thing. She wanted to reach for whatever had just come out of her, but was so worn out she couldn't even move.

Sully let out a relieved chuckle and gazed at the thrashing infant, too overcome to speak. It was soaked in fluid and a waxy, white coating, and it was perfectly pink and robust, scrunching up its face angrily and opening its mouth as it tried to take a good first breath.

"Oh, there it is. There it is," Elizabeth said, eyes welling with tears. "Oh, thank the Lord."

Just then the baby let out a strong, gurgling cry, opening its mouth wider.

"Oh!" Michaela exclaimed emotively as she struggled all the harder to see.

"Oh, listen to that!" Elizabeth said, tears falling down her face.

Sully looked down at the baby in disbelief, then up at Michaela, bursting into an overjoyed smile.

"What is it?" Michaela murmured. "Sully."

"It's a baby!" Elizabeth exclaimed tearfully.

Sully chuckled and peeked between the infants legs. He was so overcome he couldn't even find his voice to tell Michaela what the sex was. And Elizabeth was positively blubbering beside him, about as useless as he was.

"Is it a girl?" She struggled to catch her breath. "Sully, I can't see. Let me see. Let me see. Is it a girl?" she pleaded tearfully.

"Oh. Here, dear. Reach down here and hold your perfect baby," Elizabeth instructed as Sully carefully guided the baby up so Michaela could see. She managed to grasp it under the arms, drawing it against her. She struggled to position the baby on her belly. It was so slippery and writhing so much it took Michaela a moment before she had it settled comfortably. In the process the baby's head fell back a bit and it screamed in protest.

"I'm sorry. I'm a little out of practice," Michaela murmured, cupping her hand around its head. "Bear with me, Mama hasn't done this in awhile."

"Ya got it?" Sully whispered.

She nodded, clutching the infant securely as they helped her sit on the floor. As soon as she was settled she immediately lifted one of the baby's legs. As if it didn't like that the infant let loose a series of squalls.

"Oh, it is! It's a girl!" she exclaimed. "Oh! It's a girl! Oh!"

"It's a girl," Sully echoed tearfully. He caressed her shoulder as they both gazed at the new infant with sheer joy. She was tiny, with thin little arms and legs, and she had downy, wet brown hair on her head. She had pink little lips and soft cheeks. She whimpered and sniveled, a bit bewildered.

"Should we cut the cord?" Sully asked.

"It's a girl. Mother, you were right. It's a girl," Michaela murmured, glancing up at Elizabeth. "Mother. Look at your granddaughter. Oh, beautiful baby. Beautiful little girl. It's a girl!"

Elizabeth felt warm tears slip freely down her cheeks. "Yes, indeed. See, I told you so!" she said, sniffling. "Oh, she's beautiful!" She leaned forward and kissed Michaela's forehead lovingly. "Oh, sweetheart. Well done! Well done!"

Michaela shared an ecstatic smile with her mother, then gazed at Sully as he tenderly ran his fingers down the baby's arms and legs, mesmerized by every inch of the new infant. She was already glad Sully hadn't listened to her about taking medicine. She wanted to remember these precious first few moments of their new child's life. She was perfectly coherent, and happily, her baby was too. In fact Michaela was so amazed that she had gotten through it all by sheer will power alone she felt rushes of euphoria coursing through her veins. She had never felt so triumphant.

"Michaela, what about the cord?" Sully asked worriedly.

"Sully, it's fine. The cord's fine. Just look at her," she said, voice trembling from emotion and sheer exhaustion. "Look at our sweet little girl. Oh, it's a little girl. I can't believe it. It's a girl!" She let her head rest against the mattress, closing her eyes for a moment and catching her breath as tears slipped down her cheeks. She stroked the baby's cheek with her thumb. "Oh, it's a perfect little girl. Oh. Oh. Oh."

"She is," he murmured, choking up as he tenderly squeezed one of the baby's feet. She had all her fingers and all her toes and looked just wonderful. "She's all perfect." He leaned forward to press his lips gently to Michaela's.

She smiled wide and gazed into his eyes lovingly as he caressed her cheek. He kissed her softly again, too overcome with emotion to speak.

She gazed down at the baby, clasping her fingers in hers. The baby looked back up at her, scrunched up her face and cried angrily. "Are you mad at Mommy? Well, I'm mad at you. You were turned all wrong! You made Mama work so hard!"

Sully chuckled and stroked Michaela's cheek.

"Oh, I can't believe how much that hurt. Oh, that was so dreadful. Mommy's back did not feel good!" She shifted down a bit and lovingly kissed the baby's head as it continued to cry. "Why did you want to be face up? You're not supposed to come out like that. Oh."

"Feels better now?" Sully asked.

"Oh, yes," she murmured. "How on earth did you get so turned around, and the cord around your neck twice? Oh, my darling. You were not easy by any means. I thought you'd never come out." She sighed exhaustedly, closing her eyes. "Oh, I'm never doing that again. This is it, Sully."

Sully smiled as tears welled in his eyes and slipped down his cheeks. "Ya did so good. So good. You're so amazin'."

Elizabeth couldn't stop crying. She blew her nose with her handkerchief and clutched Michaela's shoulder as the infant wailed a little harder, then let out the tiniest sneeze.

"Oh, Michaela, you looked just like this when you were born," Elizabeth said tearfully. "Those very same lips and nose and hair. She looks like you!"

She gazed down at the baby. "She does? Oh."

"Looks like her mama," Sully whispered.

"You look like me," Michaela murmured. "I think you'll be stubborn like me, too." She smiled victoriously. "Oh, little sweetheart. You were so worth it. You were worth all nine months of it."

The infant coughed and a little mucus came out of her mouth.

"Sully, suction. I hear a lot of fluid," she murmured. He grabbed the bulb syringe and she took it from him and skillfully cleaned out the baby's mouth and nose. The baby didn't like that at all, and wrinkled up her brow crying hard in protest.

"She all right?" Sully said.

"I think so. I just don't want her aspirating any of it."

Sully tenderly stroked the baby's head, relieved when she took a deep breath and wailed forcefully, her lungs finally sounding much clearer.

"There she goes. That sounds better," he said, smiling with relief. He stroked her wet hair. "Oh, you ain't happy, are ya? Ya had a tough day, huh? Tough day."

Her lips were set in a firm frown and she looked so angry and annoyed Sully couldn't help chuckling. That seemed to make her even angrier, and she cried so hard her lips trembled.

"Oh, what a lovely little girl. Look at all that hair," Elizabeth murmured.

Michaela glanced at Sully with a big sigh. "Oh, I'm sorry I screamed so much. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right. It's all right," he replied with a proud smile. "You did fine. You did perfect."

"That was nothing," Elizabeth remarked. "You've obviously never heard the way I can scream."

Michaela let go her own tears as she watched the baby cry healthy cries. An incredible feeling of love and devotion washed over her for the helpless little creature. She had thought as soon as the delivery was over all she would want to do was collapse. But now she had a renewed sense of energy, and she didn't feel like resting. Not yet anyway. She just wanted to hold and kiss the baby, gaze at her and take her all in and share the beautiful moment with her husband and mother.

Sully touched his fingers to the baby's head sympathetically. "Her little forehead's all swollen."

"Poor thing had quite a time of it herself," Elizabeth remarked.

Michaela stroked the baby's brow. The infant certainly looked like she had been through something very harrowing, and she was none too pleased about it to boot. But Michaela knew that it would only be a few hours before the little girl adjusted to the outside world. The swelling would go down and she wouldn't look so beaten and bruised. And, Michaela hoped, her temperament would improve a bit.

"She's got cute cheeks, a cute little nose," Sully whispered, gently touching his finger to the baby's nose.

"Of course it's a cute nose. That's Michaela's nose," Elizabeth replied. "She's just adorable. All of her. She's a Quinn, what do you expect?"

Michaela smiled and composed herself enough to nod at her medical bag. "Clamps."

Sully dug into the bag and pulled out two clamps.

"A few inches from her belly. Clamp the cord," Michaela instructed, turning the baby toward him slightly and holding its tiny flailing arms down and out of the way with one hand.

Sully secured the clamps to the cord, then found her scissors. He glanced at Elizabeth, who was smiling wide and watching her new grandchild proudly.

"Ya wanna cut it?" he murmured, giving her the scissors. "Go ahead."

Elizabeth tentatively took the scissors, looking at Sully uncertainly. "Sully, but-"

"You do it," he insisted with a soft smile.

She swallowed hard and leaned forward. "What do I do?"

"Just cut between the clamps," Michaela instructed as the baby continued to cry briskly. "You have to cut hard. It's rather tough."

Elizabeth dabbed the tears from her eyes with her handkerchief, then took a deep breath and cut through the cord. The baby stopped crying for a moment, as if comforted by her grandmother's gentle presence.

"Well done," Michaela echoed, smiling up at her softly.

"Michaela, let's get you in bed. For heaven's sake," Elizabeth said, eyes still filled with tears.

Sully got to his feet and grasped Michaela arm, slowly helping her to her feet to sit on the bed. The baby began crying again as he helped Michaela shift back against the pillows.

Elizabeth found a receiving blanket and swaddled the baby in it and Sully gathered some towels and placed them beneath Michaela. Sully helped Michaela drink some water and then left to hurry downstairs to heat the kettle to brew some blue cohash into a tea to help with postpartum bleeding.

Sully found all three of the children waiting anxiously at the base of the staircase, a mixture of fear, worry and excitement all across their faces.

"Papa!" Katie cried. "What's wrong with Mama?"

He padded down the stairs and wrapped his arms around all of them. "Nothin's wrong. Mama's fine. You hear that new sound? Hear that cryin'?"

"Yeah. What is that?" Red Eagle asked, unable to comprehend it all.

"That's the baby," Sully said with a smile. "Mama had the baby."

"Right now?!" Byron exclaimed.

"Right now."

"I wanna see," Byron said, spinning around and taking a step up the stairs.

"Not yet. Not yet," Sully said, grasping his arm and drawing him back. "They ain't ready yet."

"I don't care. I wanna see Mama!" he pleaded.

"She wants to see you. Just gotta be patient a little while longer, all right?" He held his hand and walked to the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and putting it on the burner. Katie and Red Eagle followed quickly behind. "You were real good to stay down here like I told ya."

"Katie wanted to go up but I told her we couldn't," Red Eagle announced.

"I did not," Katie protested. "You wanted to go up."

Sully caressed the little girl's head. "Hey, no fightin'. Don't ya even wanna know what the baby is?"

"A boy?" Byron asked hopefully.

He smiled wryly. "What do you think?"

"I think Gran'ma's probably right," Byron said with a little smile.

"You think right. It's a girl."

Katie beamed, hugging Sully's arm. "Did you pick a name yet?"

"Not yet."

Red Eagle looked up at him inquisitively. "What about Loren? That's a girl's name, too."

"Let me guess where you heard that one."

Red Eagle giggled. "Mr. Bray."

"We'll think about it." Sully picked up Byron. "She's got hair like you. Brown hair."

"What color eyes?" Katie asked. "What does she look like?"

"I ain't got a good look at her eyes, she's got 'em closed most of the time. But she looks like your ma. Just like your ma when she was a baby, your gran'ma says."

Byron hugged his neck reverently. "I'm glad the baby got born, Pa. Mama doesn't have to be stuck in bed anymore, right?"

Sully rocked him a moment. "Right. Your pa's real glad, too. You kids did so good lendin' a hand to Mama all these months. I'm so proud of ya." He kissed Byron's head reverently. "So proud of ya."

"I'm proud of Mama," Byron announced.

"Me, too," Sully murmured.

By the time Sully had the tea ready and headed back upstairs, Elizabeth had already helped Michaela out of her damp nightgown and covered her with a clean sheet, and now was positioning the baby to nurse. The baby smacked her lips a bit and stuck out her tongue, making a few soft, impatient grunts as she tried to figure out how to suckle.

"You were uncooperative when you were born," Elizabeth said. "It took you a week before you were nursing properly."

Michaela smiled tiredly as she held her breast to the baby's limp lips. Elizabeth tickled the baby's cheek, stimulating her to open her mouth wide. The baby latched on seconds later and began suckling, opening her eyes for a moment and looking around.

Michaela grimaced. "Mm. Cramp."

"Oh. Are you all right?"

She nodded as Elizabeth touched the baby's head. "Well, I don't think it'll take this little one long," Elizabeth said. "She's caught on already. Oh, look at those big eyes. Look how alert she is."

"Got the tea," Sully murmured, taking a seat beside Elizabeth and holding the cup to Michaela's lips. She took a small sip.

"Sully, the afterbirth. It's still inside," she said, voice slightly unsteady as she watched the baby nurse. "How long has it been?"

Sully clutched her arm worriedly. "I don't know. Half an hour maybe? A little more. It ain't come out yet?"

"It shouldn't take that long." She gently brought her hand down and felt her belly. "I've been having a few weak cramps. They should be a lot stronger to expel it."

"Want me to help ya squat again? Maybe that'll help get it out."

"I don't think I can. I'm too light-headed."

"What should I do?" he asked.

"Try pulling on the cord. Just very gently."

"Ya sure?" he murmured, shifting down a little lower and pushing the sheet up over her knees. He drew in his breath. "Michaela, you're really bleedin'. There's a lotta blood."

"Pull on the cord," she instructed, bending her knees. He grasped the cord and gave it a weak pull. He barely remembered this part of the delivery with their other children, nor did he remember Michaela ever losing this much blood. She always seemed to bleed a little, but nothing to really frighten him. The afterbirth had delivered easily within ten minutes of each birth with but minimal effort on Michaela's part. It had been all but painless for her, much to his relief. And they both had been so absorbed with their new baby they probably wouldn't have noticed anyway. He had always worried about things going wrong with the delivery of the baby. It never crossed his mind there might be complications with the afterbirth. He felt his heart in his throat as what seemed like a gush of blood suddenly spilled onto the towels.

He looked up with alarm. "A lot more blood just came out. Michaela."

"It's all right. That usually means it's detached. Pull again. Gently. And push on my uterus with your other hand."

"How?" he murmured, swallowing hard.

She guided his hand up to her belly. "Just push down here. Hard."

"Ain't that gonna hurt?"

"It's all right. The afterbirth needs to come out."

He swallowed and slowly pressed his hand down. The color immediately drained from her face and she let out a long groan. Elizabeth quickly grasped her hand.

"Oh, Michaela," she murmured.

He bit his lip and removed his hand. "I don't wanna hurt ya."

"Sully, it's going to hurt," Michaela replied. "Just do it. We have to."

"All right. Hang onto your ma," he whispered, putting his hand back where she had placed it and pushing down again. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, digging her nails into Elizabeth's hand and trying desperately to hang on to some amount of control for their sake. The last thing she wanted to do was flex down there again, but she forced herself to bear down as Sully pushed on her belly. It was awful to have him put pressure on her and all she could do was just cry and try to push to help it along. She thought about quitting, but it was too uncomfortable, not to mention nerve-wracking, to just leave the placenta inside and wait for it to come on its own time. Intuition told her she needed to get it out as soon as possible.

Although it seemed like hours, it took about ten minutes before Sully removed his hand and sat back.

"All right, ya got it," he said with relief, brow damp with sweat. "It's over."

Michaela shifted up to see. "Does it look complete?"

"Complete?"

She was too tired to give the placenta more than a cursory glance, let alone explain to Sully what to look for. She couldn't tell for certain if it was normal and intact without a closer examination. She suddenly really wanted Andrew there. She had a sinking feeling that not everything was going right.

"Michaela? Seems like you're bleedin' a lot," Sully said, gently squeezing her knee.

She opened her eyes briefly. "Is it from a tear? Did I tear? Look."

He carefully dabbed up some of the blood with a fresh towel. He could see no evidence of any injuries from the birth, at least on the outside. "No, I don't think so. Looks all right," he replied.

"Just, just put the placenta in a basin. Andrew's going to want to see it," she instructed.

"Ya want me to get him?" he murmured.

"Yes. Right now," she whispered, resting her head back against the pillows.

He kissed her brow. "Hang on. I'll be back quick as I can."

Elizabeth glanced fearfully at the thick towel Sully had placed between Michaela's legs just before he left. In fifteen minutes Michaela had already soaked through it. She placed a fresh towel beneath her backside and glanced up.

"Drink that tea, Michaela. Drink it all down," she instructed

Michaela was resting back against the pillows, eyes barely open and weakly clutching the baby to her breast. Her teeth were chattering severely and her lips had lost all color. The baby seemed healthy and alert, nursing away oblivious to the drama that was rapidly unfolding.

Elizabeth shifted up to the head of the bed and grasped the teacup off the nightstand, holding it to Michaela's lips. "Drink it, Michaela."

Michaela took a few small sips. "Am I still bleeding?"

"Yes, dear. Quite a bit," Elizabeth said nervously.

She glanced at the baby. She always encouraged mothers to nurse as soon after the birth as possible if they could. Nursing usually helped to bring on good contractions that would slow down any hemorrhaging, but for some reason it didn't seem to be making a difference now. She couldn't get her uterus to give her more than the weakest of a cramp, and it was frightening. "Take the baby. Put her in the crib."

Elizabeth gathered the tiny infant into her arms, cradling her to her chest. "Come here, sweet little thing," she crooned. The baby let out a few soft cries of protest at being separated from her mother. Elizabeth patted her back reassuringly and then settled her into the crib at the foot of the bed.

Meanwhile Michaela had managed to prop herself up enough to get a look at the towel she was soaking.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Mother, I shouldn't be hemorrhaging this much."

"I know," Elizabeth said fearfully. "Just stay put. Dr. Cook's going to be here soon."

"I can't wait that long. I need you to help me. Look in my medical bag. There's a bottle labeled ergot."

Elizabeth scrambled to open the bag and dug through it. Finally she found a small bottle containing a pale brown liquid.

"Yes, that's it. Open it. I need to drink some," Michaela said. "It'll help stop the bleeding."

Elizabeth uncorked the bottle and moved to Michaela's side, holding her head up and pressing the bottle to her lips. Michaela bravely took a few swigs of the bitter medicine. Elizabeth gave her some water straight afterward to help wash away its strong, offensive taste.

Michaela looked up at her resolutely. "Now I need you to massage my belly. Help stimulate the uterus to contract back down."

"Michaela, I don't think I can."

"Yes you can," Michaela replied calmly. "Just press down like what Sully was doing. Use both hands."

"Oh, Michaela," Elizabeth said fearfully. "But it's going to be so painful."

"Mother, I'm going to go into shock if we don't do this," Michaela said firmly.

Elizabeth took a deep breath resolutely. "All right. I'll do it. Lie back."

Michaela grasped the edge of her pillow and closed her eyes, slowly inhaling and preparing herself for what she knew was not going to be pleasant. "Do it," she encouraged.

Elizabeth bit her lip and pressed down tentatively on Michaela's belly. Michaela reacted with a sharp inhale and a soft cry. Tears of sympathy slipped down Elizabeth's cheeks.

"I'm sorry, dear. I'll try to be gentle," Elizabeth said.

"It's all right. Just keep doing it," she replied through her teeth.

It was all Elizabeth could do to keep going, the thought that she was causing her daughter such anguish nearly paralyzing her. But she bravely managed to continue, knowing that Michaela couldn't afford to lose very much more blood.

Katie opened the door a crack and clutched the doorknob, watching her mother writhe in pain.

"Mommy!" she choked out.

"Katie. No, dear. Go wait downstairs," Elizabeth instructed, glancing at her.

"I wanna see Mommy," she pleaded. "Mama, what's wrong?"

Michaela opened her eyes for a moment, glancing at her distraught little girl lingering in the doorway.

"Wait, Mother. Stop for a moment. I want to see them," she whispered hoarsely.

Elizabeth swallowed hard and straightened. She certainly didn't want to frighten her grandchildren, but she was beginning to worry Andrew wasn't going to make it in time. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to allow Michaela a chance to see her children briefly. She quickly covered Michaela up with the sheet.

"Come here, sweetheart. Mama's all right," Michaela whispered, holding out her hand. "Don't be frightened. Mommy's all right."

Katie ran to her and clutched her hand, bursting into tears. "Mama, we can hear you crying!"

"I'm sorry. Shh," Michaela soothed. "It just hurts a little. It'll be over soon. Where are your brothers?"

"They're in the hall. They're too scared." She reached her hand up and rubbed her nose.

"Byron?" Michaela called weakly. "Red Eagle?"

The boys tentatively approached the doorway, tears drying down their cheeks.

"Oh, sweethearts," Michaela murmured. "Come see Mama. It's all right."

"Mama, don't cry like that anymore," Red Eagle pleaded.

"Are you cold, Mama?" Byron asked, taking note of her chattering teeth worriedly. He rubbed her arm, trying to warm her up.

She shook her head. "No. It's normal."

Byron sniffled. "We talked it over and we don't want you to have a baby anymore," he said resolutely. "It hurts!"

"No, only for a moment. Did you see your new sister? Go look in the crib. Go see."

They tentatively approached the crib, letting out emotive gasps at the sight of their tiny sibling.

"Mama! Look what you did!" Byron exclaimed.

She smiled weakly.

"Oh, Mama. Pretty!" Katie murmured, reaching her hand in and tenderly touching the baby's cheek.

The baby puckered up her lips and kicked her legs.

"She's so little!" Red Eagle added. "I've never seen something this little!"

"Oh, I think your mother would say she was plenty big enough," Elizabeth remarked wryly.

"Can I hold her? I'm old enough now," Byron said hopefully. "I won't drop her."

"Me, too?" Katie added.

"Me three?" Red Eagle said.

"Yes, of course you can. You all can. But later, all right?" Michaela replied, holding out her hand. "Come here. Come listen to Mama."

The children shuffled back to her bedside.

"You'll help take care of the baby, won't you? I want you to help out Papa and Grandma."

Katie nodded solemnly.

"Good," she murmured, reaching her hand up and gently caressing Byron's cheek. "I love you, monkey. I love all of you so much. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Mama," Katie whispered.

"You sure did good today, Mama," Byron whispered.

Red Eagle leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Yeah. Good job, Ma."

She smiled softly. "Can you go wait outside for Papa? Tell him to hurry?"

"All right," Byron said quietly.

Elizabeth guided them into the hallway and closed the door. "The poor dears," she murmured.

Michaela looked up at her, acutely conscious that she was rapidly losing strength and that if Andrew didn't show up soon, there wasn't much hope for her recovery. "Mother, if anything happens to me, you'll help Sully with the children?"

Elizabeth swallowed bravely, returning to the bed. "Oh, Michaela. You know I would."

"No, I mean…will you stay here? Permanently? Help him raise them?"

"You want me to raise them? I thought you made arrangements for that Negro couple to step in should anything happen."

She nodded. "But you're their grandmother. They adore you. And you're so wonderful with them. Given the choice I think they'd prefer you. I know you can help Sully give them a good life without me. And the baby. He'll need help with the baby."

"Don't talk like this, Michaela," she scolded. "You're going to be fine."

"Mother, please?" she murmured. "Please."

Elizabeth was surprised at how easy she found it to agree. She loved her grandchildren with all her heart, she loved her youngest daughter like she never had before and she was ready right then to give up her entire life in Boston to be with that daughter's children if the need arose.

"Yes, I'll stay in Colorado," Elizabeth whispered. "Rest assured I'll do everything in my power to help Sully give them a wonderful life the rest of my days." She snapped her head up as she heard horses braying outside. "Oh, they're here. Thank God."

Sully sat on the bed and leaned over Michaela, desperately trying to comfort her as Andrew worked to save her life. Elizabeth sat on her other side and held her hand tightly. Sully held her down when the pain was at its worse and kept kissing her brow or her cheek or stroking her face as she shivered. Her mouth dropped open again and she let out a prolonged cry.

"I know. I'm sorry," Sully whispered. "Hang on."

"You're doing fine, Michaela," Andrew spoke up calmly. "I know it's uncomfortable. Almost through."

"Almost through," Sully echoed. He glanced at Andrew. His shirt sleeve was rolled up to his elbow and he had worked his hand deep inside her. Andrew had explained that the placenta definitely looked incomplete, and that he thought some of the afterbirth must still be in her uterus. The only thing to do would be to manually remove it or Michaela was going to bleed to death. And if that didn't work, he was prepared to operate immediately and do a hysterectomy. It was that dire. He had given her a dose of morphine before beginning, but it barely seemed to be making a difference.

Sully took a deep breath to keep himself from passing out and returned his attention to Michaela. She would shiver and then moan or writhe, then go back to shivering. Tears welled in his eyes. He pressed his brow to hers and closed his eyes as the tears slipped down his cheeks. He had never seen his wife looking so depleted, or in so much pain. He didn't think he could bear watching her like this for one more second.

He felt Elizabeth's hand on his back, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.

"You're almost through, Michaela," she spoke up. "It's almost over."

Sully composed himself and lifted his head, glancing at Elizabeth appreciatively.

"Almost through," he murmured tearfully, tenderly caressing his wife's cheek. "You're doin' so good. So good."

"I can't s-stop shivering," Michaela whispered.

"I know. That's all right."

She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Sully."

"Nothin' to be sorry for. Nothin' to be sorry for." He kissed her brow.

"All right. We're all set." Andrew carefully removed his hand, drying it on a towel. He reached his other hand up to gently feel her belly, relieved that it was finally firming up. "Looking much better, Michaela."

"Thank God," Elizabeth murmured.

Andrew glanced at Sully. "Her uterus is clear now. It's contracting back down."

Michaela closed her eyes and slowly let out her breath, her lips turning all the paler and her grip on Elizabeth's hand fading.

Elizabeth watched her frantically. "Dr. Cook? Something's wrong. Something's wrong."

Andrew glanced at Michaela and grabbed his stethoscope, putting it in his ears and pressing the bell to her chest. "Michaela? Her heartbeat's weak, slow. Breathing is shallow."

"Oh, please, Michaela. You've made it this far," Elizabeth said tearfully.

Andrew quickly dug in his medical bag and found a syringe and a small bottle of clear liquid.

"What's that?" Sully asked.

"Atrophine. Stimulates the heart," he said, quickly injecting it into her thigh.

Elizabeth pressed Michaela's hand to her cheek. "No. Take me instead," she whispered. "Please don't take my baby girl."

Sully stroked back her hair from her brow lovingly. "Michaela, you hang on."

Andrew listened to her heart for an agonizing minute. Finally, he looked up. "Heart rate's climbing. It's a good thing you stayed with her while Sully came to get me, Mrs. Quinn," he remarked, putting the stethoscope around his neck. "You bought her precious minutes. You saved her life."

"I had no choice," Elizabeth replied, lovingly stroking Michaela's brow.

Michaela turned her head to the side exhaustedly, too worn out to even speak. Andrew filled a syringe with another dose of morphine.

"You just rest. Sleep," Sully whispered as Andrew administered the morphine into her thigh. "You'll feel better when ya wake up."

"The baby," Michaela murmured.

"Not to worry. We'll look after her," Elizabeth replied.

"We got her," Sully replied. "We'll take care of her until her mama's feelin' better."

Sully gently stroked Michaela's shoulder with the tips of his fingers as she slowly began to come around. Andrew stepped forward in anticipation, clutching his stethoscope. She muttered a few incoherent words and tossed her head a bit before opening her eyes.

Sully smiled with relief. "Hey."

She gazed at him for a long moment, then reached her hand up and grabbed onto his shirt. "Mm," she murmured.

He grasped her hand and held it against his chest. "Are ya in pain? I had Andrew give ya lots of morphine."

She shook her head ever so slightly.

"Good." He reached his hand up and stroked her brow. "Stopped rainin'. Soon as you're feelin' better we'll see what we can do about your garden. You and me both'll replant, how's that sound?"

Michaela barely seemed to register what he was saying. She looked around the room a long moment, slowly regaining her bearings as Andrew gently pressed the bell of his stethoscope to her chest. Her eyes fell on Elizabeth. "Mother."

"Yes. I'm here, Michaela," Elizabeth said tearfully, leaning forward.

"You'll stay?" she choked out.

"I'll stay," she said resolutely, glancing at Sully and giving him a soft smile.

Andrew removed his stethoscope and put it around his neck as Michaela closed her eyes and seemed to doze off again. "Heartbeat's much stronger," he said.

The baby let out a soft cry from the crib, tossing one fist in the air.

"What about her?" Elizabeth asked softly. "How is she?"

Andrew looked in the crib. When he had arrived, Michaela's condition was so grave that he only had time to give the baby a quick glance. The infant's color was good and she was crying heartily, enough to satisfy him that she would be all right for the time being while he focused all his attention on Michaela. Now he could give her a more thorough examination.

Andrew smiled softly. "Let's take a look, shall we?" He walked to the crib and lifted her out, carrying her over to the vanity. He pushed aside the hand mirror and a few photographs to lay her on top of it.

Sully held Michaela's hand and watched. Andrew unwrapped the blanket from her, put his stethoscope back in his ears and listened to the infant's heart. Sully couldn't contain his curiosity. He got up and strolled to the vanity.

"How's she look?" he asked.

"Just fine so far," Andrew replied with a reassuring smile.

The baby fussed and grunted a bit as Andrew turned her on her side to press the bell to her back.

"Is that cold? Don't worry, Dr. Cook just wants to take a quick listen," Sully whispered, tenderly stroking the little girl's arm.

"Lungs sound good," he said. He grasped the baby's arms and lifted her a few inches off the vanity. "Good muscle tone, too. What time was she born?"

Sully shook his head. "I don't know. We didn't look. Maybe about five o'clock."

Andrew grabbed a piece of string from his bag and tied it securely to the umbilical cord, then removed the clamp and trimmed the excess cord with his scissors. Then he cleaned the site of the cord with carbolic acid and some cotton.

"She's kinda small, huh?" Sully whispered, gazing at the baby worriedly. He smoothed her soft crop of hair. It was still a bit damp and very disheveled. Her head was a little molded from the birth, quite swollen around her brow, and her face looked squished and angry, and Sully thought he had never seen a more adorable baby. She kept kicking her legs fiercely, her tiny toes spread wide, and it overwhelmed him to think those were the same little feet he had felt pushing against Michaela's belly so much during the last few months of her pregnancy.

Andrew worked his finger gently inside her mouth, feeling for any abnormalities. Then he ran his fingers down her spine and each of her legs. "We'll have to weigh her later. I'd say she's about five pounds. Not bad at all considering she's a month early."

Sully stroked the baby's cheek and she turned toward him, rooting around a bit in the air and smacking her lips.

"What about feedin' her?" he asked. "Michaela can't right now."

"We'll give her some infant food," Andrew replied, packing his instruments back into his bag.

"Is that gonna be all right? Michaela really wanted to nurse."

"It's all right to bottle feed her for a little while. She'll still be able to transition back to nursing when Michaela's ready. Babies usually adapt fairly well."

He nodded, gazing at the little girl and gently stroking her head. "Hey, beautiful girl. Don't be scared. Pa's right here."

"What's her name?" Andrew asked, folding his arms with a soft smile.

He shook his head, sniffling. "I don't know. We couldn't come up with one."

Andrew swaddled the baby back in the blanket. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Yeah, could I?"

"Of course. She's yours, isn't she?" He picked up the baby and tenderly laid her in Sully's arms.

Sully looked down at her, awestruck. He felt a small tear slip down his cheek.

"She looks good, Sully. She looks perfect," Andrew said, patting his arm reassuringly. "Congratulations."

He sniffled again. "Thanks." He carefully walked to the bedside where Elizabeth was sitting in a chair. He crouched down so Elizabeth could get a good look, too.

"See your gran'ma?" Sully whispered. "She helped out your ma a whole lot all this time she's been carryin' you."

"Oh, she couldn't be any more beautiful," Elizabeth said in wonder. "I can't get over how much she looks like Michaela."

"You are so beautiful," Sully said in disbelief. "Look at ya."

The baby pressed one hand against her mouth and whimpered restlessly.

He glanced at Michaela. She was breathing slowly and deeply, completely out and absolutely exhausted after a very eventful afternoon. "I know, ya just want your ma. Don't worry, she'll be feelin' better real soon."

Elizabeth held out her wrist and tilted the bottle toward her skin, placing a few drops of infant food on her wrist. Satisfied that it was warm but not too hot, she put the bottle in her lap and wheeled her chair toward the sitting room. Byron and Red Eagle were sitting in one of the wingback chairs, holding the baby carefully across their laps and staring at her in fascination as Katie stood by them and tenderly rubbed the baby's belly. The baby was letting out tiny little cries every few seconds, her little brow wrinkled unhappily and one of her arms flailing in the air.

"How is she?" Elizabeth murmured.

"She misses Mama. She wants to go see Mama," Red Eagle remarked quietly.

"She's afraid Mama's not going to get better," Katie added.

"Don't worry. Gran'ma said she'll take care of her. She'll make her better," Byron remarked.

Elizabeth smiled. "Well, let's see if she'll drink some milk." She nudged the rubber nipple between the baby's lips.

"Come on. Eat some milk," Red Eagle instructed.

"Move your lips like this," Byron added, puckering up his lips in demonstration.

As if the baby had understood him perfectly she suddenly began suckling weakly at the nipple, drinking down some of the infant food.

"There you are, my dear," Elizabeth murmured. "Is that good?"

Byron leaned down and kissed her head. "You'll feel better once your tummy's full."

Katie helped Elizabeth hold the bottle. "Don't worry, baby sister. We'll feed you until Mama can."

"Yeah, we'll take care of you," Byron added softly, smoothing back his new sibling's hair reverently.

Michaela slept a solid six hours before she awoke again. It was pitch black outside and Sully had lit a few lamps in the room and turned them down low. She felt groggy and dizzy, but the horrible cramping and aching that she had experienced was finally gone, and in its place was a much pleasanter feeling of numbness and tingling from what had to be a hefty dose of morphine. It was a relief to not be in pain anymore, and she was even more thrilled that her rather difficult pregnancy was over and she had a healthy and beautiful new baby girl to show for it. She could barely remember the delivery, let alone the complications that had happened afterward. She just remembered pushing and pushing for she didn't even know how long now, and how agonizing it was to feel every contraction deep in her lower back. At one point all she could do was whimper and sob and beg Sully to get Andrew so he could operate and it would be over. But through it all Sully and Elizabeth were right beside her urging her on and refusing to let her quit.

Her voice was gone completely from all the screaming and carrying on she had apparently done, her legs felt weak and sore from squatting so long, and her tailbone was still quite tender from having the back of the baby's head pressing against it so hard for most of the labor. But it had been such an incredible, welcome relief when the baby finally slipped out. The pain ended immediately, Sully put her in her arms and she saw it was in fact a girl. She remembered Sully and Elizabeth crying uncontrollably, and how wonderful it was to hear the baby she had grown to love so much let out a good first wail. She must have eventually noticed something was wrong with the placenta. She remembered Elizabeth ushering the children in so she could tell them she loved them. She remembered that part vividly. Then everyone was forcing ergot and morphine and who knew what other medicines into her, and pulling and tugging and pushing on her until she was so spent she lost consciousness. And now here she was, awake again with no idea how long she had slept or what else had happened. It didn't matter anymore. All she cared about was that her baby was here. As difficult and at times as frightening as it all had been, there was nothing more beautiful than being able to create a new life with the man she loved, and to then bring that life into the world and deliver it into his waiting hands.

She glanced beside her at the chair. Sully was slumped in it, his head bent forward as he dozed. She wanted to let him sleep, but she was too relieved to be awake and coherent and, moreover, alive, to not wake him. She reached one hand forward and gently touched his, and he shook with a start and immediately roused.

"Hey," he said with a smile, leaning forward and stroking her brow. "How ya feelin'?"

"Better," she choked out weakly. She cleared her throat in an attempt to get her voice working again. "How long was I asleep?"

"Couple hours," he replied. "Not too long. Ya ain't missed anything if that's what your worried about."

"Where's Mother?"

"Downstairs with the baby. She's fine. Everybody's fine."

"She somehow climbed the stairs to be with me. She took care of me."

"Yeah, I know. She's a pretty remarkable woman. Must run in the family." He wrinkled his brow. "Ya need more morphine? Ya in pain?"

"No, none," she whispered reassuringly.

He eyed her distrustfully. Despite how much he knew it wasn't a good idea, he felt a little guilty about not letting her take any drugs during her labor. The hardest thing he had to do was tell her no when she was in pain and crying out for him to help her. Now that they didn't have to worry about causing harm to the baby, he told Andrew to fill her up with lots of good drugs so she wouldn’t feel a twinge. It was all a little late, but at least she would be feeling a little more comfortable and relaxed as she recovered.

"Ya sure? Cause ya can take more. Want ya to get as much morphine as ya need."

"I'm not in pain. I promise," she vowed.

He let out his breath. "Good."

"The baby. I haven't been nursing her."

"Loren brought over some infant food for her until ya feel well enough to nurse. Your ma and the kids been givin' her a bottle. She's got a good appetite."

"What if she won't nurse again? What if she wants a bottle instead?"

"Andrew said she'll be fine to use a bottle a few days until ya get your strength back. Michaela, she'll take back to nursin' just fine. Don't worry about that."

She relaxed a little, trusting that Sully and her mother would take good care of the baby until she was well enough to do it herself. Sully carefully raised Michaela's head off the pillows and held a glass of water to her lips.

"Andrew said ya gotta drink lots of water," he murmured as she took a few sips. "There ya go. Good."

She looked up at him a long moment. "I'm so happy she's here," she murmured at last.

"Yeah, I know ya are," he said with a soft smile.

"She looks like me."

"That she does."

"Sully?"

"Yeah?"

Her eyes welled with tears and he could tell immediately they weren't tears of happiness this time, but a few final tears of grief. He crouched down close to her and cupped her face in one hand.

"Ya know I'd give anythin' for him to still be with us right now," he whispered. "For him to share this with us and the kids."

She closed her eyes, nodding through her tears.

"I'm so sorry Jack ain't here, Michaela. I'm so sorry this happened to us."

"I'm sorry, too," she replied tearfully. "I'm sorry about what losing him did to me. How difficult I've made it on you."

"It's all right, it's all right," he replied, tears slipping from his eyes as he stroked her cheek. "Ya did such a good job havin' another baby for us, ya know that? Ya did so good. I know how hard it was. Michaela, I know Jack would be….Jack would be so happy we went ahead and had another baby, tried to go on."

"We'll all be together again someday," she choked out. "We'll see our little boy again."

He nodded and couldn't help letting out a small sob. He held her all the closer.

"We'll make a good life for her, Sully," she whispered, stroking his cheek reassuringly and slowly regaining her composure.

"Yeah, I know we will," he replied, voice heavy with emotion.

Suddenly she was the one reassuring him. She raised her hand up to his and squeezed it firmly. "We'll honor our son's memory by making a good life for his little sister. For all of them."

He was too choked up to speak. He kissed her a few times as they both shed some final tears for the precious child they had lost less than a year before.

The sun was just coming up as Sully carefully removed a cloth from a warm pan of water with some tongs and placed it in a basin. Katie walked down the stairs in her nightgown, bathrobe and slippers.

"Mornin', Papa," she called.

"Hey, Kates," he called back.

She joined him at the stove, eyeing the cloth. "What's that?"

"Mama's just a little sore. Not too bad. We been soakin' a cloth with some witch hazel leaves. It helps her feel better."

"Oh," she replied, grabbing his hand.

He smiled down at her lovingly. "How ya doin', sweet girl?"

"Can we stay home from school today?" she asked hopefully. "Please, Papa?"

"Ya already missed a couple days," he remarked.

"I know. But I wanna stay home and help with the baby."

"Ya wanna stay home and hold the baby is what ya want, huh?" he said, smoothing back her hair teasingly.

She giggled softly.

"You can stay home. All of ya can," Sully said, putting his arm around her and squeezing her shoulder. "Long as you and your brothers promise to lend a hand."

"We'll lend a hand. We'll lend six hands," she vowed.

He kissed her head. "You're still my sweet girl, ya know that?"

She smiled, pleased, and rested her head against his stomach a moment. "I better gather the eggs for breakfast."

"Sounds good. I'm gonna go look after Mama, all right?"

She nodded and found the egg basket on the counter. Sully headed up the stairs with the basin and cloth. He found Michaela half sitting up in bed, examining the thick towel she was lying on. There was a little pool of light, almost pink-colored blood marking the cloth between her legs.

"It's normal," she told him reassuringly, sensing his worry. "Actually it's even less than what's typical."

He sat on the bed with the basin. "That's good. I got the warm cloth."

"Oh, good," she replied. Nothing sounded better to her at the moment. In fact it didn't take much to really make her happy. All she needed was cold water to drink and lots of witch hazel cloths to press on her sore spots and she was content as ever.

"Just fold it, lay it over the whole area," she instructed.

"Sure ya want me to do it?" he asked, picking up the cloth.

She nodded. She trusted Sully more than ever, and was at ease to sit back and let him care for her and help her recover.

He laid the cloth tenderly as she had instructed and then gently grasped her hand. Even Andrew had remarked how impressive it was she had delivered a posterior baby with nothing but a few insignificant grazes that didn't even require a stitch. Sully was more than a little proud of all three of them for staying so in control and helping ease the baby into the world as gently as possible. Of course Michaela's recovery wasn't nearly over. She was still so weak from the blood loss she could barely move, let alone string together more than a few coherent sentences. She could barely stomach a thing. She hadn't eaten more than a few spoonfuls of the broth Elizabeth kept making for her. It seemed all she wanted was little sips of cool water now and again. And she was having difficulty using the bed pan, seemed a little afraid to try, given that she was still quite swollen and tender between her legs. But at least they could be thankful she didn't have stitches to take care of on top of it all. Andrew had assured them everything she was feeling at the moment was all very normal, that she should take her time and that she would be doing better shortly.

"Ya feel up to a little breakfast?" he asked. "I'll make ya anythin' ya want."

"My body feels so shocked," she explained softly. "I just have no interest in food."

"Maybe ya could try a little more broth later?"

"Mm," she replied, closing her eyes.

"Cloth feel good?"

"Yes. It helps a lot."

The baby let out a tiny cry from her crib as she woke up from a brief nap. Michaela slowly turned her head to gaze at her.

"Sully, I want to hold her," she said hoarsely.

It was the first time since the birth that she had been strong enough to show much interest in the baby, and he smiled softly and got to his feet, walking to the crib. He looked down at her for a moment, watching her fuss and work her fingers into her mouth to suckle on them. She looked much less battered and angry from the delivery, and she was all the more beautiful to him, if that were possible. All the swelling around her head had disappeared and her brow had smoothed out so that her expression was much pleasanter and not so furious looking. Her hair had dried completely and was so soft and abundant and emphatically chestnut brown. She had the softest, rosiest skin and big bright, alert eyes. She looked back up at him decidedly as if she knew exactly who he was and let out a big cry. With a soft chuckle, he reached in and lifted her from the covers, holding her in the morning sunlight reverently. Elizabeth had dressed her in a little white shift. It was a few sizes too large, designed for a full term baby, and she looked so tiny and sweet drowning in all the soft cotton and lace. He cuddled her against him and rejoined Michaela at the bed.

Michaela weakly stretched one arm up toward him. He sat on the bed and carefully laid the baby across Michaela's chest, tucking her head beneath her chin. The little girl immediately quieted, content to be skin to skin with her mother.

"How's this?" he whispered.

She weakly brought her arms up and tried to hold onto her. Sully noticed how much she was struggling, and laid his hand securely across the baby's back. "Here, I got her," he said. "I got her. You just rest."

She nodded gratefully, letting one arm drop back down and keeping her other hand gently on the baby's head. She tenderly kissed the baby's hair a few times, familiarizing herself with her sweet smell and soft skin.

"Sully," she whispered, glancing up at him elatedly.

"I know. She's beautiful. Ya both are." He leaned down and gently kissed her lips.

"We can't put it off anymore. We need to decide on a name for our little one," she murmured.

"Yeah, we sure do. Guess I just haven't felt like fightin' about it."

She smiled softly. "Speaking of fights, Mother and I had a horrible argument, just before my contractions really started."

"Ya did? Bout what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Everything. She threatened to go back to Boston. I told her it was fine by me. We both said things we didn't mean. But then when I went into labor and I knew you might not make it, I realized the only other person I really wanted there was her. I just wanted the people I loved and trusted the most to be with me and help me."

"She was pretty brave stayin' by your side while I got Andrew," he added. "Ya didn't look so good."

"Andrew's right. She saved my life. All of you did."

"Anything you wanna name her, Michaela," he said lovingly. "It don't matter to me anymore. Whatever you want."

She looked up at him pensively. "Sully, what about naming our little girl after her grandmother? Elizabeth. We could call her Eliza for short."

He smiled, instantly taking to the name. "That's pretty." He pressed one hand to his chin. "And I still like Quinn for her middle name."

"Eliza Quinn Sully," she breathed, smiling softly.

Elizabeth made her way down the hallway and entered the room, brow fixed. "Oh, good you're awake," she said, sinking into the chair and resting her cane against the bed. She was carrying a thin book and a small telegram. "I had Brian go into town this morning and wire everyone the good news. Your sister has already sent a telegram in reply."

"Rebecca?" Sully asked.

"No, Claudette," she replied, handing him the telegram.

Michaela looked at Sully curiously. "What does it say?" she whispered.

"Congratulations. Cordially, Miss Claudette Q. Atkins," he read.

Michaela couldn't help letting out a soft giggle. "Cordially?"

"Yep, that's from your sister all right," he said, placing the telegram aside. "Nice of her to send that."

"Yes it was," Michaela replied.

"Yes, well, on to more important things," Elizabeth spoke up. "We have a serious problem. Oh, I knew this would happen!"

"What's wrong?" Sully asked in confusion.

"What's wrong?" she exclaimed. "How can you sit there so calmly? My grandchild doesn't have a name that's what's wrong! I told you four months ago you should start getting down to business and did you listen to me? No, why would you? You never have before. Now here she is, nameless. My worst fears have come true."

Sully shared a small smile with Michaela as Elizabeth carried on dramatically.

Elizabeth opened the book to the girls' names. "Name her what you like. I won't protest no matter how much I hate it. As long as you name her something, anything! We'll start at the A's and work our way through."

"We're not going to be needin' that, Elizabeth," Sully said.

"I wish you would take this seriously, Sully. Do you know how traumatic it is for that poor child to not have any identity whatsoever in these crucial first few weeks? This could affect her for the rest of her life."

"Don't worry, Elizabeth. Michaela and me picked out a name. We named her after somebody special to us."

"Oh, thank heavens. Who?"

"Someone we love and admire," Michaela said hoarsely.

"This is Elizabeth Quinn Sully," Sully said softly. "Eliza."

Elizabeth stopped short, gazing at Michaela and then Sully. "Oh. Oh, my goodness." Her eyes suddenly welled with tears. "Oh, Michaela. You don't want to name her after me."

"You said you weren't going to protest," Michaela spoke up wryly.

Sully tenderly squeezed Michaela's limp hand. "We figure Gran'ma's the reason Eliza's here. Boston's where Michaela got pregnant."

"Yes, indeed. It's a good thing I broke my hip," Elizabeth said with a soft chuckle. She sighed softly. "I've never been so honored. Thank you. I'll try my hardest to be the best grandmother I can be."

"Ya already are," Sully replied, gently stroking the baby's back as they all watched her doze contentedly against Michaela's chest.

"Wish we didn't have to go to school," Katie remarked as everyone ate their breakfast. "I want to stay here with the baby."

"Me, too," Red Eagle echoed. "Just one more day, Mama?"

"I know you want to, but you really need to get back to school or you're going to be hopelessly behind," Michaela said. "You'll see her when you get home." She was sitting at the head of the table, cradling Eliza lovingly against her chest. Sully sat beside her, eating his breakfast and pausing to check on the baby every time she so much as made a sound. Sully had cooked Michaela beans, sausages and a big bowl of oatmeal, foods Andrew had told him were good for someone who was anemic. It was the first meal she had felt well enough to come downstairs for, and Sully was grateful she was looking and acting better. Time and a strict diet high in iron had done a lot to aid her recovery.

"You're lucky, Gran'ma. You get to stay home with the baby," Byron remarked sadly.

Elizabeth smiled softly and patted his hand. "I promise you won't miss much. I suspect she'll probably sleep most of the day."

"And get a stinky diaper," Byron said with a little giggle.

Elizabeth chuckled despite herself. "Yes, that, too."

"Finish up," Sully said, standing and grabbing his coat off the rack. "Don't wanna be late."

Byron sighed and ate one last bite of his eggs. "Mama, do you feel better now?" he asked.

"A hundred times better," she replied reassuringly.

"Do you think you could read my essay? Help me with it? If you're not too tired."

She smiled, shifting the baby to rest over her shoulder and rubbing her back. "Of course I can. When is it due?"

He got up and approached her. "Tomorrow."

"Why don't you leave your tablet here and I'll read it while you're at school. Then we'll look at it together when you get home."

He beamed and hugged her. "Goodie. Thanks, Mama." He kissed the baby's wrinkled forehead. "Bye-bye, Eliza. I'll miss you at school. Don't do anything while I'm gone!"

Michaela shared a wry smile with Sully as Katie and Red Eagle got up to hug Michaela goodbye and kiss and fuss over the baby.

"Wish you could come to school with us," Red Eagle said, stroking the baby's soft hair. "I wanna show you to all our friends."

"They'll never believe how pretty you are," Katie said sweetly.

"All right, enough stallin'," Sully remarked, holding out the children's jackets. "Get your books. Come on."

"Goodbye, dears," Elizabeth said.

"I love you. Have a good day," Michaela called as the children filed out the door and Sully shut it after them.

Michaela gazed down at her baby and gently stroked her soft, pink cheek as she nursed. She rocked slowly in the rocking chair near the front window, letting the morning sunlight warm them and relishing in the intimate, special time with the new child she never thought she could have. The baby looked up at her tiredly with deep blue eyes as her suckling gradually slowed.

"All full, sweetheart?" Michaela whispered. She put a cloth over her shoulder and then lifted the baby up to rest against it. She kissed her head, slowly inhaling her sweet smell as she patted and rubbed her back. It had taken some patience to get the baby on a regular schedule after she had been bottle fed for a few days while Michaela rested and recovered upstairs. At first Michaela had to wake the baby every few hours, guide her to the breast and coax her mouth open before she would latch on. But Sully was right and the baby had quickly taken back to it, and now she was eating vigorously and crying for another feeding nearly every hour.

The baby let out a little hiccup and Michaela smiled, patting her back a little harder. "There you are. What a good girl you are." She gave her head another kiss and then reached with her free hand for the tablet on the table beside her. "Let's take a look at your brother's essay, hm?"

She opened the tablet to the first page, smiling at her precious little boy's wobbly but persistent handwriting. He really had been trying much harder in school lately, and she wanted to do everything she could to encourage him. She paused as she silently read the title of his essay, mouth falling open slightly with surprise. She quickly read the rest of it, then lowered the notebook to her lap, looking up tearfully and rubbing the baby's back.

Michaela held Byron's tablet in one hand and knocked on Elizabeth's open door, slowly opening it. Elizabeth had piles of dresses, hats, nightgowns and toiletries on her bed and one of her trunks was open at the foot. She was leaning heavily on her cane and neatly folding one of her nightgowns.

She glanced up. "Oh, Michaela. How's my little namesake?"

"She just had a good feeding. She's fast asleep."

"And you, dear? How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I feel fine."

"Well, whenever you want to go upstairs and rest just say the word. I'll watch the baby."

Michaela glanced at her trunk. "What are you doing?"

Elizabeth averted her eyes, not replying.

Michaela inhaled unsteadily. "When do you leave?"

"Monday," Elizabeth murmured.

"Mother, I-"

"Michaela, I know what you're going to say," Elizabeth interrupted. "And it's true. I've improved tremendously since I came here. But Boston is my home. And your father. Your father's in Boston."

"Father's been gone twelve years."

"I realize that. I just mean that I want to be buried beside him. In the Quinn family plot next to the church."

She stepped toward her. "Mother, you know we would still honor those wishes if you stayed on."

"Please, Michaela, I don't want to argue about this anymore. Just…leave me be."

Michaela opened the tablet, gazing at the little boy's heartfelt, honest prose. "Byron finished his essay. Do you mind if I read it to you? I think it's something you should hear."

Elizabeth placed her nightgown in the trunk and faced her more directly. "Certainly. Who did he end up selecting? Abraham Lincoln I hope."

Michaela cleared her throat as she began. "The person I most admire. By Byron Sully."

Elizabeth sighed softly, resting both hands atop her cane.

"The person I most admire is my grandma. She lives in Boston and has a big house," Michaela went on. "She fell down and broke her hip and had to have an operation. My papa made her a chair. Now she comes to all my baseball games. My grandma has spectacles. She helps me with homework. She spends time with me." Michaela's eyes welled with tears. "My mama got really sick when she had my baby sister. I thought she was going to die. But Grandma took care of her and Grandma saved her life. Now Mama's all better." She reached forward and gently squeezed Elizabeth's hand. "I'm glad she lives with us. I hope she never goes back. The end."

Michaela looked up. Tears were streaming down Elizabeth cheeks.

"Let me see that," Elizabeth whispered, taking the tablet from her and giving the essay a quick glance. "Oh, the precious dear."

"Please don't go, Mother," Michaela pleaded.

Elizabeth drew her into a warm, tight hug, gazing out her window thoughtfully at Colorado's beautiful mountains.

"Oh, just look at her!" Dorothy said, reaching into the pram and clasping the baby's tiny hand. The baby had fussed on and off throughout the church service, and Michaela even had to take her outside to the porch for a few minutes until she settled down, but now she was fast asleep and didn't seem to mind a bit the parade of townsfolk eager to meet the newest member of the Sully family.

"Did you see her hair?" Michaela asked wryly, reaching in and pulling back the baby's knit cap to reveal her thin but abundant wisps of brown.

"Oh!" Dorothy replied with a chuckle.

"Just like Michaela when she was born," Elizabeth remarked.

Michaela sat beside Sully in the café, both of them more than a little proud of all the attention their new little girl was getting. The children were sitting around the table, eagerly devouring the fried chicken and green beans and mashed potatoes that Grace had prepared for everyone. It seemed the entire congregation had joined them for what was supposed to be a small engagement party for Sarah and Brian. The happy couple was making their rounds through the café, greeting everyone and shaking hands.

The Reverend stood up and banged his spoon against his glass. "Can I have everyone's attention please? I'd like to make a toast." He held up his glass. "We've got quite a lot to be thankful for this afternoon. It finally stopped raining, and this town and everybody in it made it through all the flooding we had. Just like the Bible promises, rain never lasts forever. Eventually the sun will come out. Well, that sun's come out today. We're all here to celebrate the engagement of Brian Cooper and Sarah Sheehan. And to rejoice in the safe arrival of Michaela and Sully's new daughter Eliza."

Brian put his arm around Sarah and beamed.

The Reverend held his glass toward them. "Brian and Sarah, may you find every happiness together. And may Eliza grow up to be just like the fine young people you two have become."

"Here, here!" everyone shouted as they all clanked their glasses together.

Sully pressed his glass of cider to Michaela's and then gave her a soft kiss. "Congratulations, Mama."

"You, too, Papa," she replied lovingly.

Brian made his way over to Michaela and Sully's table, clutching Sarah's hand.

"How's everybody doin'? The food good?" he asked.

Byron took a big bite out of a chicken leg. "Can we have fried chicken at your wedding, too?"

He laughed. "I don't know if that's on Gran'ma's menu. It don't sound very French. We'll see." He placed his hand on Michaela's shoulder. "How's Eliza? Still sleepin'?"

Michaela glanced up at him hesitantly. "Brian, I feel like the baby's taking away from your party. This was supposed to be your day to celebrate."

He laughed softly. "Oh, we don't care, Ma. All the more to celebrate. We're happy to share it."

"The more the merrier I always say," Elizabeth added.

"She's so precious," Sarah said, peering into the pram as the baby slept on. "I can't wait until she's my sister-in-law."

"You're comin' back for the weddin', aren't ya, Gran'ma?" Brian asked.

Michaela touched her hand. "If you need someone to escort you back here we can arrange for that, Mother. I know it's a long trip."

"Don't trouble yourself. I'm not going to be making that horrible train ride," Elizabeth said firmly.

Brian's face fell. He glanced at Sarah and squeezed her hand. "Sure there's nothin' we can do to change your mind, Gran'ma? Move the date? It'd mean a lot to us to have you here."

"Oh, I'll be here," she replied.

"But ya just said…" Brian replied in confusion.

Elizabeth smiled. "That's right. I'm not going to be getting on any trains. I'm staying here."

Brian's face lit up and Michaela looked at Sully happily.

"You mean it, Mother?" Michaela asked. "You want to live with us?"

"Yes, I do," she replied warmly. "This is where I'm getting well. Not in some dark and drafty bedroom in Boston." She took a deep breath. "Michaela, you've done such a wonderful job looking after me these past several months. I'm not sure I ever properly thanked you. I owe my life to you. And to you, Sully. My grandchildren." She glanced at Loren who was watching them and softly smiling at a nearby table. "And you, Loren, for cheering me up. To everyone who worked so hard for my sake."

"What about Maureen and Claudette and Rebecca? They're in Boston," Michaela asked hesitantly.

"They can visit," Sully said sincerely. "Any time."

"Yes, I don't want to hear it from them. There's nothing preventing them from getting on a train and coming out to see me like big girls if they miss me that much," Elizabeth said resolutely. "Besides, I've lived my whole life in that city. I'm ready for a change."

"You want a change, Mother?" Michaela replied incredulously.

"Hard to believe, isn't it? I know I'm set in my ways. I'm grouchy at times and I say what's on my mind when sometimes I probably shouldn't. And I'm afraid getting old hasn't helped my disposition much," she admitted. "But out here…I've never felt so useful, so content. I'm ready to make this my home."

Katie watched her hopefully. "With us, Gran'ma?" she whispered.

"With me?" Byron added, pointing his finger at his chest.

"With you!" Elizabeth said with a chuckle. She glanced at Katie and Red Eagle. "And you, and you!" She reached into the pram and caressed Eliza's cheek. "And you, my little namesake."

"You're wrong, Elizabeth," Sully spoke up quietly. "You're only improvin' with age."

"Oh, fiddlesticks," she said with a soft chuckle.

Michaela held her arms out tentatively and Elizabeth embraced her.

"Thank you for opening up your home to me, Michaela," Elizabeth murmured. "It's been such a sacrifice, I know."

Sully tenderly rubbed Michaela's back as her eyes welled with tears.

"Oh, Mother, our home's always going to be open to you," Michaela replied emotively. "For all the rest of your days."

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