by Becky

Sully opened the schoolhouse door and guided Michaela inside. Teresa was grading papers at her desk and looked up as they walked down the aisle.

"Sully, Dr. Quinn, thank you for coming," Teresa said. "Please, have a seat."

They sat on the bench in the front row and looked up at her expectantly.

Teresa put her pen aside and folded her hands on her desk. "I called this meeting today because I'm very concerned about Byron."

"I know he's still struggling with his arithmetic," Michaela said. "We're trying to help him improve."

"It's not just arithmetic. He's not doing very well in reading, writing or spelling. We're coming to the end of the term where I am forced to make important decisions."

"Decisions?" Sully echoed.

"Yes. Byron has been trying very hard. I am very impressed by his effort. But unfortunately I'm just not sure that he is ready for the third grade."

"What are you saying? You're saying he should be held back?" Michaela asked. "No. No, I assure you that's not necessary."

Teresa opened her ledger and got up, handing it to them. "As you can see, he has been struggling the entire term."

Michaela and Sully looked at the row of grades beside Byron's name. He had a few B's in his best subjects, but everything else was cluttered with C's, D's and even some failing marks. Michaela knew school was harder for Byron than it was for the other children, but she hadn't realized he had collected this many poor marks this term. She glanced at Sully with surprise.

Teresa folded her hands in front of her. "I will not keep a student back without the permission of his parents. But as his teacher I don't think he's ready for the next grade. I strongly recommend he repeat the material next term."

"Well, he just, he's having a little trouble adjusting to the new baby," Michaela explained fleetingly. "That's all this is."

Teresa glanced at the ledger. "Perhaps, but this problem has been going on for some time. He has always been struggling."

Michaela shook her head desperately. "Mrs. Slicker, you can't do this to him. He's going to be devastated if Red Eagle moves on without him. No, I forbid this."

"Michaela, maybe we should at least talk about this," Sully said quietly. "Holdin' him back might be the best thing for him."

"No. No, I'll work with him all summer. I'll study with him all day if I have to. Anything so he can move on with his brother."

"As I said, the final decision is up to you," Teresa said.

"When do ya need to know by?" Sully asked.

"Next week when I distribute report cards," she replied. "Dr. Quinn, I know this may seem like very bad news right now. But when I've held a student back in the past it's always been the right thing. Sometimes some students just need an extra year to catch up. They always do fine after that."

"The decision's been made, Mrs. Slicker," Michaela replied, standing up. "He's moving on at the end of the term." She spun around and headed toward the door and Sully followed after her quietly.

"It's his teacher," Michaela remarked as Sully headed the wagon toward home.

"Michaela, it ain't the teacher," Sully said.

"Yes it is. She's always singled him out. She's always been hard on him."

"Why's it always Teresa's fault? Why ya always blame her?"

"Because it is her fault. She's wanted to fail him since he started school."

He slapped the reins. "Maybe she's got her reasons. Ya ask me I don't think she would be doin' this she didn't think this was the best thing for him."

She sighed and suddenly her eyes welled with tears. "Oh, Sully, I want to do what's best for him. Perhaps this is the right thing for him. But how will we ever tell him Katie and Red Eagle get to move on to the next grade and he has to repeat a grade?"

He put his arm around her, swallowing hard. "I don't know."

"This is going to break his heart," she said, swiping at her tears.

He gave her head a gentle kiss. "Let's think on it a few days, before we make any big decisions, all right?"

She nodded and held his hand.

Michaela heard the baby crying as soon as Sully pulled the wagon up to the porch.

"Oh, no," she said, quickly climbing down and hurrying inside.

Elizabeth was sitting at the table rocking Eliza. The infant was screaming distraughtly, her face bright red. Red Eagle was covering his ears, Katie was holding out her doll for the baby to look at and Byron was shaking a rattle.

"What happened?" Michaela said, tearing off her jacket and dropping it on the table.

Elizabeth glanced up. She was looking rather distressed after a very long morning. Even having raised five rather willful children hadn't prepared her for this. "I have no idea. She just started crying shortly after you left and hasn't stopped since. I've never seen anything like this. Poor thing's got to be exhausted."

"She's been crying this whole time?" Michaela said. She reached for the baby and settled her in her arms. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry. Did you miss Mama?" She quickly unbuttoned her blouse and offered the baby her breast. Eliza latched on and quieted instantly.

Red Eagle uncovered his ears, sighing with relief. "She was loud, Mama. Whoa. We didn't know what to do."

"I'm sorry about that. Thank you for trying to help her."

Sully came in just as Eliza lost her hold and fussed again, tossing her head. She let out a decisive, rather frightening yelp.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Michaela said desperately. "Here, you need to have some more. You'll feel better." She had to nearly force the baby to her breast and hold her head there firmly for Eliza to stay latched on for more than a few seconds.

"She all right?" Sully asked, hanging up their jackets.

"Apparently she had a rough morning," Michaela said.

"Really rough!" Byron remarked. "What'd the teacher say about me, Mama?"

Michaela met his eyes, swallowing hard. "Um, well, she…we'll talk about it later, all right, sweetheart?"

He nodded agreeably. "All right. Good girl, Eliza. Eat so you don't cry anymore."

Brian walked toward the church, holding a telegram with a pleased smile.

"Brian!" Sarah called, standing impatiently at the base of the stairs. "We're late! Hurry!"

He quickened his pace a little. "Sorry. A telegram just came from Ethan." He handed it to her. "He's comin'. He's comin' out for the weddin'."

She gave it a glance and handed it back. "That's nice."

"Couldn't ya at least try to be happy for me, just a little?" he asked.

"I am. Very happy. I suppose we'll have to just hope he doesn't ruin everything."

"Sarah, come on," he said impatiently. "Why do ya have to do that?"

"You know exactly how I feel about inviting him, Brian," she said firmly. "And I'm not going to apologize for how I feel. He's not going to be my father-in-law. Sully is."

"I never said he had to be your father-in-law. When did I say that? I didn't say that."

"You're implying it," she replied, spinning around and heading up the stairs.

"You tellin' me I can't see my own pa?" he said, following her up the stairs.

"No. I'm telling you I strongly disagree. We've kept the Reverend waiting long enough. Come on."

"I could think of a lot of other things I could be doin' out at our new homestead while we're havin' these marriage sessions."

"Brian, you know we have to go. All couples go. The Reverend won't marry us otherwise."

"Just seems like a waste of time," he muttered, trudging up the stairs.

"If you're such an expert on marriage then why don't you run the sessions? We'll just tell the Reverend we don't need him anymore."

A little smile escaped his lips and he chuckled softly, opening the door for her. "No, I'm no expert."

She grinned despite herself. "Good, then let's get started."

"Hold him back! No, absolutely not!" Elizabeth exclaimed, putting the Gazette aside and looking up at Michaela in shock. "You can't be considering this."

"Well, no, not really," Michaela murmured.

"Thought we said we're gonna at least think about it," Sully spoke up.

"She's out to get him, Sully," Elizabeth said. "Always has been."

Sully was pacing with the baby near the hearth. Eliza had continued to fuss all day and had never really settled down. She screamed if she wasn't being held. Michaela, Elizabeth and Sully had been rocking her and walking the rooms with her for hours to try to settle her.

"I think it's just easier to blame it on his teacher," he murmured. "Then we don't have to take any blame."

"What?" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Oh, this is our fault now?"

"I ain't sayin' that. But maybe we been overlookin' his troubles in school hopin' they would just get better on their own."

"The only thing we've overlooked is how incompetent that teacher is," she retorted. "I should fire her for this."

"School board is in charge of the teacher, not you, Elizabeth," Sully said.

"Well, good thing my daughter is on the school board!" she said. "The point is this is all that Mexican's fault. She doesn't know what she's doing. We expect her to teach him the English language when she hasn't even mastered it herself?"

"Mother, she speaks perfect English," Michaela protested softly.

"I thought you were on my side!" Elizabeth cried.

"Well, I am. I think," she murmured.

"If she's such a bad teacher how do you explain how Red Eagle and Katie do so good in school?" Sully asked.

She paused. "I don't know. Luck," she muttered. "Why are you defending her anyway, Sully? Since when do you prefer Mrs. Slicker over your own family?"

"Don't be silly. Course not."

"Well, let's not make any rash decisions," Michaela spoke up diplomatically. "I think Sully's right that we should at least think on this a few days."

"You two can think on it. I already know how I feel," she replied intrepidly, picking up the Gazette again and shaking it hard to straighten it.

Eliza let out a little snivel and rapidly started crying.

"Michaela," Sully called. "Think she wants to nurse."

"I just tried, Sully. She wasn't hungry," she said. She joined him at the hearth and took the baby from him. "Oh, sweetheart, what is it?"

The baby whimpered restlessly and tossed her head.

"Perhaps a warm bath would settle her down," Elizabeth said. "That always helped you when you were a baby and were fussy."

Michaela nodded and kissed the baby's head.

"I'll heat some water," Sully said, squeezing Michaela's shoulder and heading to the kitchen.

Michaela rocked anxiously in the rocking chair and held the baby against her breast, desperately trying to get her to latch on. The baby had fed for about a minute and then started crying, refusing to latch on again. She hadn't settled down for a good long feeding in three days, and now Michaela was really getting worried.

"Come on, sweetheart," she coaxed, tickling the baby's cheek to get her to open her mouth. "Come on, aren't you hungry?"

Sully entered the room after finishing the chores for the night.

"Sully, now she won't eat at all," she said frantically.

Sully walked to her side and felt the baby's head. "She sick? She doesn't feel warm."

"She spits up everything. But I took her temperature. No fever. And no other symptoms. She sighed and again tried to guide the baby's lips to her breast, but Eliza would have none of it. "Nursing was going so well up until now. I don't understand this."

"Some babies have trouble with it, right?" he replied.

She sighed and nodded. Katie and Jack had nursed just fine when they were infants, but Byron was a different story. At first he didn't even seem all that interested in the breast, and when he finally started feeding he wouldn't latch on properly, refusing to open his mouth very wide and causing Michaela a great deal of pain. And his poor suckling resulted in him taking in a lot of air, which made him terribly irritable after every feeding. It took time and patience to get him nursing properly. But he had never had the same kind of dramatic weight loss that was happening to Eliza. He somehow managed to get enough milk into him to grow, and he eventually caught on to the process a little better.

"Sully, I think we should try bottle feeding her," she said unsteadily. "At least with a bottle I would be able to monitor exactly how much she's eating. I couldn't begin to guess how much breast milk she's kept down over the past few days. All I know is it hasn't been very much."

"Ya wanna give her infant food?"

"There could be something wrong with my milk. She's losing far too much weight."

He wrinkled his brow. "You sure it's that? Nothin' wrong with your milk before."

"Perhaps she's developed some kind of allergy to it. I don't know what to think, what to do. I suppose I could try expressing some milk and putting it in a bottle. But she might not want it that way either."

"Let's try both. I'll ride out to Loren's and get some infant food and some bottles for her first thing tomorrow mornin'."

Tears welled in her eyes and she cuddled the baby close. "I never intended to wean her so soon. I wanted to breastfeed for several more months. I feel so terrible."

"It'll be all right. Lots of babies do fine on the bottle. Sides, this way I can help ya feed her." He gave her temple a reassuring kiss. "I can get up for those two o'clock feedings now and you can sleep. Bet that sounds good."

She was too distraught to be amused. She got up and paced in front of the fireplace, rubbing the baby's back. "Oh, sweetheart. Mama and Papa are going to make it better, all right? Whatever this is."

Michaela glanced at the clock again as she rocked anxiously with the baby. Sully stood by and watched, growing increasingly more worried as every hour passed. Eliza had been crying all night, her little eyes moist with tears and her face flushed. She was so distraught she had developed the hiccups, and her whole body wracked violently with them. Sully and Michaela were exhausted trying to comfort her, but neither wanted to even think about resting until they knew the baby was all right.

"Maybe ya should try nursin' her again," Sully said.

"I've tried, Sully," she protested hoarsely.

Eliza hiccupped again forcefully and screamed all the harder.

"Shh, shh," Michaela soothed, rubbing her back. "Oh, my darling."

"Just try again, Michaela. Please," he said helplessly.

Michaela reached her hand up and unbuttoned her nightgown, guiding the baby to her breast. But the baby wanted nothing to do with it, and just kept crying and hiccupping and tossing her head.

"I told you," Michaela said. "She doesn't want it."

"Come on, sweet girl. Pretty girl. Ya gotta eat," Sully whispered. He squatted down and held her head gently between his hands, trying to keep her from moving. "Put your breast to her mouth. I'll keep her still," he instructed.

Michaela reached her hand up skeptically and tried to guide her nipple between the baby's lips, but Eliza didn't want it and just kept crying. "Sully, this won't work. We can't force it on her," she protested.

"Michaela, we gotta do somethin'. How long can she go without food?" he asked anxiously.

Seeing Sully suddenly so panicked was making Michaela very distraught. She had been relatively calm and optimistic about Eliza's failing health until Sully lost it. Now she was desperate for the baby to get better and absolutely sick with worry, just as he was. "I don't know. It's never a good thing for a baby to not be eating like this."

He got up and crossed the room, grabbing a shirt out of the drawer and buttoning it up.

"Where are you going?" Michaela asked.

"Gonna go get Loren and get some of that infant food right now." He found his boots and quickly pulled them on.

"Sully, don't wake him up."

"What else can we do? By the time I get to town it'll be close to morning anyway."

She glanced down at the baby and nodded. "All right. Tell him I'm sorry. And thank him for me."

He leaned down and kissed her reassuringly ."I'll be back soon as I can."

"What in tarnation?!" Loren exclaimed as he walked down the stairs in his nightshift and bathrobe. Sully pounded hard on his door again.

"Loren, open the door!" he shouted.

"I’m openin' it, I'm openin' it," he grumbled. He unlocked the door and threw it open. "Sully, you're gonna wake half the town with all this racket. It's four in the mornin'!"

"Loren, sorry to wake ya up. We need some infant food."

"Now?" he blurted with a scowl. "This couldn't wait until mornin'?"

"The baby's sick. She won't eat. Michaela wants to try infant food."

His expression changed to deep concern. "What's wrong with her?"

"We ain't sure," he murmured, swallowing. "All we know is she hasn't eaten in three days."

"Well, sure, Sully. Sure. I'll get it for you right away. Come on in." He guided him inside and shut the door, then gave his shoulder a reassuring pat and went off to his shelves to find the infant food.

"Finish up," Sully said as he put a pile of breakfast dishes in the sink. "We're gonna be late."

Elizabeth wiped Byron's mouth with his napkin and smoothed down his hair. "Go get your schoolbooks and say goodbye to your mother."

"Mama's not comin' with us?" Red Eagle asked, heading to the coat rack.

"She's goin' into the clinic later today," Sully explained.

Katie walked into the sitting room and found Michaela in the wingback chair, tiredly bottle feeding the baby.

"Bye, Mama," she said. She paused, gazing at the two of them astutely. "Why does Eliza have a bottle now? What's wrong with her?"

Michaela glanced up. "Nothing," she murmured. "We're just going to try a bottle for a little bit."

"Bye, Mama," Byron called, picking up his lunch pail.

"Bye, baby sister," Red Eagle added.

"Have a good day," Michaela called back.

Katie stroked the baby's head. "Can I feed her? I know how to hold the bottle."

Michaela glanced up. "Next time, all right, sweetheart? You need to get to school. Kiss your sister goodbye."

Katie crouched down and kissed her head. "Bye-bye."

"Get in the wagon. I'll be right there," Sully said, grabbing his jacket and walking toward Michaela as Elizabeth joined them. "How's she doin'?"

"She's eating a little," Michaela said. "About three ounces so far."

"She'll eat that whole thing, you'll see," he said. "I'll send Brian back with the wagon so ya can drive it to work, all right?"

She nodded.

He leaned down and kissed her. "See ya soon."

"Have a good day," she replied, shifting the baby up over her shoulder and patting her back as Sully headed out the door.

"Well, she looks good this morning," Elizabeth said. "I think it must have been just a little upset tummy."

"I feel like I'm confusing her," Michaela said guiltily. "Switching her to the bottle so suddenly like this."

"She doesn't look confused to me. I think she likes her bottle."

"I suppose," Michaela murmured. "What do you think, sweetheart? You want to try a little more?"

Suddenly the baby grunted and spit up onto the burping cloth.

Michaela rubbed her back helplessly. "Oh, no. Oh, little baby."

The baby suddenly started crying, then seconds later spit up a lot more.

Elizabeth quickly grabbed another cloth to help. "Oh, dear. My goodness, Miss Eliza. You're not feeling very well, are you?"

The baby cried harder, her face reddening, as Elizabeth tried to dry her off with the cloth.

"You've got some of it on your blouse, Michaela," she said. "I'll start a bath for her. You go up and change."

"Mother, what's wrong with her?" Michaela asked, tearfully passing the baby to her and standing up.

"She has an upset tummy, that's all."

"Why is she losing weight?" She shook her head. "I examined her thoroughly the other day. I can't find anything."

"Perhaps you should talk to Dr. Cook. Get a second opinion," Elizabeth suggested.

She nodded. "Yes, I think you're right. We should talk to him."

"Go change, dear," Elizabeth instructed. "I have her."

Michaela pulled the wagon up to the telegraph office and climbed down, lifting the baby out of the basket on the floor. She carried her around the back where she found Sully and Kirk measuring a board on a sawhorse and William up on a ladder nailing a board.

"Sully," she called urgently.

Sully put the tape measure aside and walked toward her. "What's wrong? How's she doin'?"

"Not well at all," Michaela said, rubbing the baby's back. "She can't keep down any of the infant food. She spat up everything. And she doesn't want my milk in a bottle either."

Sully stroked the baby's head. She was making soft little noises of discontent, balling up her fist against her cheek.

"Mother thinks we should take her to see Andrew," Michaela went on. "See what he thinks."

"That ain't a bad idea."

"And we could examine my milk as well," she added. "His stethoscope is a lot more powerful than mine."

"Let me talk to Horace, see if he'll let me off right now."

She nodded and shifted the baby to her other shoulder as Sully walked inside the telegraph office.

William climbed down from the ladder. "Still not feeding too well?" he asked.

Michaela shook her head and rocked the baby soothingly. The baby let out a tiny whimper and tossed her head.

"There, there, Eliza," William murmured. "It'll be all right."

"Take all the time you need, Sully," Horace said as he stepped out of the telegraph office. "We can hold off things here until you get back."

"Thanks, Horace. Appreciate this." He shook with him and then he approached his workers. "We're gonna call it a day for now. I'll make up the pay you're missin' to ya."

"No need for that, Sully," Kirk immediately said, dropping his hammer in his toolbox. "Just go get the baby checked out and don't worry about a thing."

"Yes, no need for that," William added.

"Let us know how you make out," Kirk added.

"Thanks," Sully replied gratefully, putting his arm around Michaela and heading back to the wagon.

Andrew listened to Eliza's chest with his stethoscope, leaning over the examination table in the center of his clinic. Michaela and Sully were waiting impatiently close by, watching his every move.

"What happens when you feed her the infant food?" Andrew asked.

"She doesn't like it. She spits up most of it," Michaela said.

"Seems like she's always spittin' up," Sully said nervously.

"Almost after every feeding," Michaela added. "Some babies do that. I never thought anything of it before."

Andrew tenderly pushed on her belly, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. The baby was stripped down to her diaper and calmly suckling her fingers, enduring the examination patiently.

"Does she sleep a lot? Is she lethargic?"

Michaela shrugged. "I don't know. She's a baby. She sleeps a lot."

He straightened. "Failure to thrive can mean so many things. Something wrong with the liver, or a gastrointestinal problem. Or some kind of infection."

"What about leukemia?" Michaela whispered fearfully.

Sully put his arm around her, face falling.

"Michaela, that's very rare in infants," Andrew said dismissively.

"Oh, my God," she said, eyes welling with tears.

Sully gripped her tightly. "She's gonna be all right," he murmured helplessly.

Andrew stepped toward them. "Michaela, Sully, I don't think we should panic just yet. It's just too soon to tell right now."

"What do you think we should do?" Michaela asked.

"I'd go back to nursing her first. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with your milk that we can tell. And at least she seems to be keeping it down better than the infant food."

"All right," she said, reaching out and stroking the baby's head.

"Then what?" Sully asked.

"Well, I'd say at this point you need to take her to a specialist. A pediatrician. What about Dr. Patterson in Denver? He's the best pediatrician around."

Michaela glanced at Sully for approval. He immediately nodded his consent. A pediatrician was sure to be expensive, and it was going to be difficult to pay for it, but he didn't care. The important thing was they find out what was wrong with their child. Everything else they could worry about later.

"We'll take the next train out of here in the mornin'," he said. "We'll take her to Denver."

Michaela picked up the baby and held her close. "Thank you Andrew."

"I didn't do much. Let me know as soon as you know anything more."

"Who's gonna stay with us?" Red Eagle asked curiously as the family gathered around the dining room table.

"Your gran'ma. And Brian," Sully said sensibly, leaning against the table with his arm around Byron.

"Don't worry, kids," Brian said reassuringly. "We'll be fine."

"But what about when you're at the Gazette, or building your house?" Red Eagle questioned.

"Then you'll be home with me," Elizabeth said, rubbing his back. "We'll be just fine."

Michaela was sitting at the head of the table rubbing the baby's back. "I'm hoping we won't be gone too long. The doctor's going to take a look at her, perhaps give her some medicine, and we can come right home."

"But I thought you were the doctor," Red Eagle said.

"This is a special doctor called a pediatrician who knows a lot about babies. More than Mama does," Michaela explained. "I'm sure he's seen this very same thing many times before and will know exactly what it is." She glanced at Katie. The little girl was bowing her head and struggling with all her might to hold back tears. "Oh, Katie. Sweetheart, come here."

Katie scurried to her and hugged her tightly.

"Shh. It's going to be all right," Michaela said.

"I just don't want her to die," she choked. "I don't want her to die like my brother did."

"She's gonna be fine, Kates," Sully said unsteadily, stroking her hair.

"I know this is frightening," Michaela said. "Mama's frightened, too. But we're doing everything we can taking her to Denver and making sure she sees the best doctor around. Hm?"

Katie nodded slowly.

"I need you to be a brave girl. You'll be good for Grandma and be patient while we're gone, won't you?"

"Yes, Mama," she said, rubbing away her tears.

"Good girl."

Someone knocked on the door and Sully opened it.

"Sully," William said, removing his hat. "I just…I was worried about the wee one. I wanted to see how she was doing."

"William, come in," Michaela said.

"Gran'pa," Byron called, running to his side. "Eliza's sick. She's gotta go see a pee-trician."

"We're taking her to Denver on tomorrow's train," Michaela said. "We think another doctor should see her."

"I want Gran'pa to stay with us," Katie spoke up firmly. "I want him to sleep over while you're in Denver."

"Oh, child, I couldn't, I-" William replied.

"Please?" she said, hugging his waist tightly. "I'm scared. I want you to stay with us, help Gran'ma take care of us."

Michaela glanced at Elizabeth questioningly.

"I think that's a good idea," Elizabeth remarked. "Having a man around to watch the homestead when Brian's not here."

"I'd be happy to stay," William said, gently patting Katie's back. "But only if it's all right with your parents."

Michaela looked at Sully and he gave her a small nod. As much as he resented William for everything that happened when he was a boy, the truth was it would make everyone feel better if someone as strong and capable as William was staying with the children and looking after the homestead.

"Thank you, William," Michaela said. "It would be wonderful if you could stay."

Katie hugged William tighter.

"All right then," he replied quietly, picking up Katie and tenderly patting her back.

"Here's a list of groceries we need," Michaela said, handing a piece of paper to Brian. "Ask Mr. Bray to put it on our account."

"Sure, Ma."

"Sarah can come over for supper if you'd like. As long as your grandmother or grandfather is home."

"Thanks."

Sully was beside her tenderly cradling the baby. Eliza had been sleeping all evening and wasn't interested in eating at all. The younger children quietly watched Michaela worry and fuss over all her lists.

"Oh, and Mr. Farley's coming by tomorrow to check on the cow in the morning. Make sure someone is home," Michaela said.

"I'll be home," Elizabeth said. "Don't worry. Now it's getting late and everyone needs to get to bed. Especially you two. You have a big day tomorrow."

"Mama and Papa are going to be leaving very early tomorrow while you're still asleep so we can catch our train," Michaela explained unsteadily. "Say goodbye to your sister tonight, all right?"

Katie and Red Eagle walked over and gently kissed her and smoothed her hair.

"Don't worry, Eliza. Don't worry," Red Eagle murmured.

Katie choked up again and gave her another kiss.

"You're my brave girl, remember?" Michaela whispered.

Katie nodded and took a deep breath to keep herself together.

Byron tentatively approached and studied the baby carefully. "The pee-trician. The special baby doctor. He's going to make her better, Mama? Right?" he whispered.

"Of course he will," Elizabeth said. "We have nothing to worry about."

Byron gave Eliza a soft kiss on her cheek, gazed at her a moment longer, and then headed upstairs after Katie and Red Eagle. He lingered in the stairwell unnoticed.

Michaela took the baby from Sully and rubbed her back. Her eyes welled with tears. "That could be the last time they see her."

"Hush, don't be silly," Elizabeth said.

The tears slipped down her cheeks. "No. She's going to die. I feel it. A mother knows."

"Ma, she'll be all right," Brian spoke up reassuringly.

She rocked the baby as Sully held her close. "Michaela, we gotta have hope. We gotta trust that doctor is gonna know what to do," he said.

"Oh, God, we can't lose her, Sully," she whimpered. "We can't."

"We're not gonna," he said tearfully as Elizabeth got up to hold Michaela, and Brian rubbed her back. "We're not gonna."

Byron stared forward, stunned, as he listened to the adults comfort each other. He shook his head and swallowed hard. "Eliza," he whispered. "I didn’t mean it. Please don't die. Please."

"You said she's back on breast milk?" Dr. Patterson asked as he ran his hands carefully down the baby's left leg and then her right.

"Yes," Michaela replied. "Just since yesterday."

"Let's take her off it again. I think I'd like to put her on a feeding tube for a little while."

"Feeding tube? But we examined my milk in Colorado Springs. It seemed fine." Michaela said. The idea of any tubes attached to her little one was more than she could bear. She felt Sully's hand on her back reassuringly.

"I don't want to rule anything out just yet," the doctor replied. "May I take a look inside your mouth, Eliza? Would that be all right?" He gently pried open the baby's lips and peered inside. Then he held her little hands out in front of him and stretched out her fingers, scrutinizing them closely.

"You're being such a brave girl," Michaela said soothingly, reaching her hand out to caress the baby's head. "Just a little longer."

The doctor selected a sharp lancet from his tray of instruments and grabbed the baby's leg.

"Wait. What's that?" Sully asked.

"I'm just going to prick her foot so we can get a sample of her blood." He quickly scraped the sole of her foot with the sharp tool and the baby wailed in response.

"Oh. Shh. Shh," Michaela said, tears welling in her eyes as she stroked her head. "I'm sorry. Oh. Oh."

"Just one moment here, Eliza," the doctor said, gripping her foot firmly and collecting a few drops of blood in a thin beaker. "There we are, my dear. All done."

"All done. All done," Michaela echoed tearfully. She stooped and kissed the baby's flushed forehead. The baby just continued to cry distraughtly, balling up her hands in fists. "Shh, angel. Mama's here. It's all over. It's over." Michaela kissed her head several times and the baby slowly calmed down a bit under her mother's loving touch.

Dr. Patterson cleaned her foot off with some cotton and then opened a medical chart, making copious notes.

"Ya got any idea what it is?" Sully asked.

"I'm not sure yet. Though I think I should prepare you. I've seen similar symptoms in infants before. Sometimes it can be an indication of…" He paused, taking a deep breath and lowering the chart.

"Of what?" Michaela demanded.

"Here, let's take a seat," he said, walking to the bench nearby. "Please."

Michaela and Sully reluctantly sat on the bench and the doctor pulled over a chair to sit in front of them.

"I know this is not what you were hoping to hear," he said, "but I'm afraid I have a strong suspicion it could be Mongolism."

Michaela stared at him in shock, then looked at the baby.

"What's that?" Sully demanded fearfully. Whatever it was he could tell by the look of sheer devastation on Michaela's face it was very serious.

He put the chart aside. "Well, it's…it's a form of mental impairment children are born with. There could be something wrong with her brain. She may have been born with some kind of intellectual disorder," he said gently. "We tend to see a lot more instances of this in older mothers. The pregnancy, was it normal?"

Michaela tried to gather her thoughts. "I don't know. What do you mean?"

"She had some bad mornin' sickness," Sully spoke up helpfully. "Ended up on bed rest the last couple weeks."

"I had toxemia," Michaela added softly.

"I see." He wrote down the information on his chart. "You weren't ill otherwise? Tuberculosis?"

"Tuberculosis? No, of course not," Michaela replied.

He wrote down a few more notes. "How many weeks gestation were you when you delivered?"

Michaela couldn't think straight. She looked at Sully helplessly.

"Thirty-six?" he said. "Maybe thirty-seven."

"Almost thirty-seven," she echoed hoarsely.

"Hmm. Also seen more often in premature infants. And did the baby breathe right away when she was born? Her vitals were good?"

"Yes, right away," Michaela said, tears slipping down her cheeks. "She was fine. She was perfect."

"She looked real good. Breathed right away," Sully murmured.

"It's just, babies who don't feed very well, who are on the small side like this….have you noticed the way she tends to stick out her tongue? That can sometimes be a sign. Or it could be just something she does."

"Her tongue?" Michaela choked, still in shock.

"Of course, she's not showing all the symptoms. Her appendages look proportionate, and her face seems normal. But these things are very hard to diagnose in newborns." He cleared his throat. "I have a medical textbook that might explain all this a little easier for you. If you'd like I'll find it for you."

Michaela was so stunned she couldn't even speak. She had prepared herself for bad news, but she had never considered that her baby might not be completely normal cognitively. She suddenly began going over every moment of the newborn's short life thus far, racking her brain for clues that there might be something wrong. Perhaps her heart rate had dipped during the delivery, perhaps during the contractions when Michaela was far too caught up in the pain to be able to put a stethoscope in her ears and listen to what the baby was doing. If the heartbeat dropped enough times she supposed it could be sufficient to have done permanent damage. She suddenly felt sorely inadequate for not monitoring the baby better. The pain had been so intense and it was a struggle to focus on anything but getting through it. But she could have told Sully to listen to her belly during a contraction and count the beats.

"Perhaps something did happen when she was born," she said unsteadily.

"Michaela, we did the best we could," Sully said reassuringly.

"Let's not jump to any conclusions," Dr. Patterson said. "I want to keep her here at least overnight while we examine her samples and monitor how she's eating. We'll talk again in the morning." He closed the chart. "I know this is a lot to take in at once. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes. Can we stay with her?" Michaela replied.

"There's not much you can do here. I think you'll be more comfortable in a hotel."

"We wanna stay with her," Sully said, squeezing Michaela's shoulder.

"As you wish. I'll just go get a nastrogastric tube and start her on some infant food. And then we'll move her to another room for the night."

"Hey, Mr. Bray," Brian said as he walked inside the store holding Sarah's hand. "Ma sent me with a list of groceries we need."

Katie, Byron and Red Eagle followed behind him, all three of them much more solemn than they usually were.

"How all of you doing?" Loren asked, taking the list from him. "I heard about little Eliza."

"We're all right," Brian replied, squeezing Katie's shoulder. "We're just waitin' on word from Ma and Pa."

"Well, you youn'uns go help yourselves to the candy," Loren said. "You can have whatever ya want."

"Thanks, Mr. Bray," Byron said as he and Katie walked to the jars.

Red Eagle followed close behind Loren as he gathered a sack of coffee, some flour and some apples and packed them in a barrel.

Loren spun around to get some potatoes in the crates outside and nearly tripped over the little boy. "Red Eagle, stop chasing me!" he exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"Mr. Bray," he began unsteadily. Tears suddenly welled in his eyes. "Mr. Bray, could I stay with you? Could I stay in your store until my ma and pa get back? I could help you out, do chores. I won't get in the way."

"Aw, you don't wanna stay with me. Don't you want to be at home?" He walked outside and gathered several potatoes and put them in a sack.

He shook his head, grabbing the old storekeeper's vest. "No, I want to be with you." He walked back inside and hurried up to Brian. "Please, Brian? Could I stay with Mr. Bray?"

Brian hesitated, a little confused. Red Eagle usually preferred to be wherever the other children were. It was strange he would want to leave them and be on his own. "Sure that's what ya really want, Red Eagle? The rest of us are goin' back to the homestead."

"Yes. Please. Please, Brian."

Sarah gently stroked his hair. "Don't you want to come home with us, maybe toss around the baseball this afternoon?"

"No, I want to help out around here," he replied resolutely.

Loren put the potatoes in the crate and took out his ledger.

"Well, I guess if you really want to," Brian said. "But only if it's all right with Mr. Bray."

"Oh, course it's all right," Loren murmured, gently putting his arm around the little boy. "You can stay with me long as your folks are gone."

Red Eagle hugged him tightly. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Bray. Thank you."

Dorothy poked her head into the store. "Here's this week's Gazette, Loren," she called. "I'm putting it outside."

Loren rushed outside, Red Eagle on his tails, as Dorothy placed a stack of newspapers in the box outside the door and secured them with a horseshoe.

"My story in here?" Loren asked excitedly, taking out one of the papers. He frantically searched the front page.

"What story?" Dorothy asked blankly.

"You know. About my telephone."

"Oh, that! Yes, it's in there. Somewhere. Afternoon, Loren." She headed back down the street.

Red Eagle looked up at Loren in anticipation.

Loren finally found it on the bottom of page three in small print. He burst into a big smile. "Here it is! Here it is!"

"Read it, Mr. Bray!" Red Eagle breathed.

"'Loren Bray, owner of the mercantile,'" he began proudly. He winked at Red Eagle. "That's me."

Red Eagle giggled.

"'Loren Bray, owner of the mercantile, installed the second telephone in Colorado Springs on Tuesday," he read. "By all accounts this innovative machine is going to transform…the….country.'" He trailed off, his smile fading.

"Read the rest of it," Red Eagle encouraged.

"That is the rest of it," Loren muttered, lowering the paper.

"Oh," Red Eagle murmured. "Well, it was a good story anyway."

Loren put the newspaper back in the box. "At least she wrote somethin'."

Red Eagle tugged on his sleeve. "Could I have that newspaper?"

"Why?"

"I'm going to cut out your article and save it."

Loren felt a little better. He handed the paper to him. "Here, on the house."

Michaela stretched out the baby's fingers on the stiff mattress and studied them closely. Then she ran her fingers carefully across the baby's ear. The baby was dozing on her belly in the middle of a hospital metal crib, a tiny tube running into her left nostril. Eliza had always been perfect and beautiful in her mother's eyes. Now Michaela wondered if her unconditional love for the baby had caused her to overlook some clear signs of something wrong.

"How's she doin'?" Sully asked as he entered the room with a few limp pillows and a blanket a nurse had kindly found for them.

"Sleeping," Michaela replied. She gently opened the baby's mouth and looked inside. "We tend to see short fingers and small ears in infants with mongolism. And they have slanted eyes and larger tongues."

"I never noticed anything different about her."

"I didn't either. But I wasn't looking for these symptoms before."

"What do ya think? Think that's what this is?"

She sighed. "I'm afraid I just can't say for certain. Dr. Patterson's right, it's too soon to tell. We won't know for sure until she's at least a year old."

He nodded and pulled over the two hospital chairs in the room close to the bed. "Why don't ya sit down, try an' get a little sleep?" he suggested, unfolding the blanket.

She reluctantly backed up and took a seat in the chair, removing the pins from her hair and letting it fall down across her back. She hugged one of the pillows as Sully draped the blanket across her lap and then walked to the small window in the room and drew the shades.

"When I was doing my residency in an asylum in Boston, I treated some ill children in there with Mongolism," Michaela murmured, gazing at the baby.

Sully slowly turned around to face her.

"Their families had just abandoned them to live a childhood behind bars," she went on unsteadily. "I can still hear their little wails."

"Michaela, listen to me," Sully said. "This is our child no matter what. If there's somethin' wrong with her, we'll face it, and we'll get through it. But no matter what she's stayin' with us. She ain't goin' anywhere. We're never gonna send her away to be looked after by strangers. I promise."

"Sully," she replied, tears falling down her face.

He quickly walked to her side and sat beside her, drawing her into his arms. "Shh."

"He said….he said this happens more often in older mothers," she stammered. "I'm responsible for this."

"No. Michaela, we did everything we could to have a healthy baby. Ya took good care of yourself. Lot better care than some younger mothers would."

"I knew this could happen. I knew the risks. I shouldn't be having a child at my age. What was I thinking? What were we thinking?"

"Havin' a baby always comes with some risks. But we decided we weren't young enough to be parents we never woulda had our family. Can't imagine what our lives would be like without those kids of ours."

She rested her head against his shoulder, a little reassured. "Certainly a lot less entertaining."

He chuckled softly. "Yeah."

She sniffled, glancing at the baby. "I just want her to be perfect."

He swallowed hard. "She is. She's still perfect."

"Oh, Sully, what are we going to do if she's…?"

"We'll love her. And we'll take care of her. Nothin's gonna change. But we gotta take this one step at a time. Let's find out for sure what's wrong first." He rubbed her back soothingly. "Here, rest your head in my lap. Try to get a little sleep."

She edged down a little with her pillow, lying in his lap and holding his hand as she closed her eyes after a very exhausting day.

Red Eagle sat on the porch steps of the store and lifted a little stray kitten into his lap. He pet its downy orange coat and rested his head against a post.

"Red Eagle? There you are," Loren said, walking outside carrying a clipboard. "What do you say you help me do some inventory? You can make sure I don't miscount."

Red Eagle sighed and shrugged ever so slightly.

"Red Eagle?" Loren said, stepping closer to him. He knelt down to the little boy's level. "You know, everything's gonna be all right with little Eliza. Your ma and pa are gonna see to it she gets the best care possible."

"I know," he murmured.

"Somethin' else on your mind?" he probed.

"You ever have a gran'pa, Mr. Bray?"

"Yeah, I did. When I was a little boy your age. He passed on when I was about fifteen."

"Was he nice?"

"Well, sure. He used to take me fishing."

"I never had one before. A Gran'pa."

"Well, you're lucky. You have one now. Now let's get to that inventory."

"Mr. Bray, I don't want a gran'pa," Red Eagle suddenly blurted, shifting to look at him. "At least, not William. I don't like him. I want him to go away. Back to St. Louis."

"Oh, Red Eagle. Why don't you like him?"

"I don't know. I just don't know him."

Loren put his arm around him. "Well, we didn't know each other when you first moved here, did we? But that didn't mean we couldn't be friends."

"That's different. You're nice. You know about baseball and fishing. And all kinds of things."

"William's nice, too," Loren told him. "You'll find things you have in common if you just give each other a chance."

Red Eagle shook his head, placing the kitten beside him and giving Loren a big hug.

Loren gently patted his back. "Aw, Red Eagle. We're still gonna be friends. Nothing's gonna change."

"Mama says we need to spend time with William now. That he's our gran'pa now."

He rubbed his back. "Well, your ma's right. But, you know, you can have more than one gran'pa. Lots of folks do."

He wiped away a tear. "Really?"

"Sure. I'll be your gran'pa from Colorado Springs. And William can be your gran'pa from St. Louis. How's that sound?"

Red Eagle hugged him again, reassured.

"Important thing is you give him a chance. He's been waitin' an awful long time to meet all of you. If I had grandchildren that didn't want to see me just because they didn't know me, that'd make me pretty sad."

"I guess I can give it a try."

"Good boy." He rose to his feet and gave Red Eagle a hand up. "Hey, what do you say next time your brother and sister come into town, I'll let you use my telephone."

"Really? You'd let us?" he breathed.

"You can call your ma and pa at the hospital and talk to them. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes Mr. Bray. Thank you."

"Now, will you help an old man look after his store? I could use a youn'un like you right now."

Red Eagle squeezed his hand and grinned. "Sure, Mr. Bray."

"Michaela?" Sully said, gently grasping her shoulder and rousing her from sleep.

She blinked up at him and then immediately checked on the baby. Eliza was sound asleep just like she had last left her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nurse says there's somebody on the telephone for us."

"Who?" she asked curiously.

A nurse stepped into the room. "A Mr. Loren Bray."

"Loren? Why would Loren be calling us?" Michaela asked.

"Let's go find out," Sully said, grasping her hand as they followed the nurse down the hallway. She led them into a small room where there was a switchboard and a telephone, and a young woman connecting all the calls.

"They're on the line," the operator told them.

Michaela tentatively picked up the receiver and pressed it to her ear.

"Loren?" she said. "Loren, what's wrong?"

"Dr. Mike. Nothing's wrong. The little ones just wanted to talk to you."

"Mama?" Byron said.

"Byron?" she replied.

"Mama! Mama!" he exclaimed.

She glanced at Sully with relief. "Oh. Oh. How are you, sweetheart?"

"Good."

"Are you having a good time with Grandpa and Grandma?"

"Yeah. Gran'pa's playin' baseball with me. I'm teaching him. He's pretty good."

"Oh, good. Are Katie and Red Eagle there?"

"Hey, Mama," Red Eagle spoke up.

"Sweetheart," she replied, tears falling down her cheeks. "It's so good to hear all of you. I'm so sorry we can't come home yet."

Sully rubbed her back and held her close. Even he couldn't help getting choked up. There was something very emotional about hearing their children's little voices when they were so far away.

"Mama?" Katie said. "Is Eliza all right?"

Michaela glanced at Sully helplessly.

"What's wrong with her? Katie asked.

Michaela desperately tried to keep her voice steady. "Well, she…they're just not sure yet. They're doing some tests to find out." Michaela could hear Katie quietly sniveling on the other end.

"Katie? Sweetheart, don't cry. She's going to be all right."

"I just want you to come home," she implored. "I miss you."

"I know, darling. I know. I miss you. Remember what we talked about? About being a brave girl? Being patient?"

She sniffled. "Yes, Mama."

"Gran'ma wants to talk to you, Mama," Red Eagle spoke up.

"Oh, all right. I love you. I love all of you."

"Love you, Mama," Byron said. "Come home soon."

"We're trying," she replied fleetingly.

"Michaela?" Elizabeth said.

Michaela suddenly lost it. "Mother," she choked. Sully put her arm around her in support.

"Oh, Michaela," Elizabeth replied, struggling to remain stoic.

"Mother, they think she's…she might not be normal," she said tearfully. "Something could be terribly wrong."

Elizabeth took a brave breath.

"Mother, she could have been born with cognitive problems. Our baby might not be…" Michaela went on.

"Michaela, listen to me," she said resolutely. "Michaela?

"Yes," she choked.

"They haven't completed the tests yet. They're not finished yet."

"No, they're still trying to sort this all out," she admitted.

"They don't know yet. They just don't know. No use working yourself up like this until we know for sure, all right?"

She dabbed at her tears with her handkerchief. "Yes. Yes you're right."

"Of course I'm right. You must stay strong. Eliza needs you to be strong." She paused. "Sully?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he said unsteadily, leaning forward a little to speak into the mouthpiece. He sniffled. "Elizabeth. Thanks for everything you're doin' back home, takin' care of the kids."

"Everything's fine at home. Don't worry. Stay as long as you need to. William and Loren and I have everything under control."

"Thank you," he replied.

"We're probably costing Loren a fortune," Michaela said as she dabbed at her nose. "We should say goodbye."

"Yes. Let us know the minute there's any news," Elizabeth said. "Everyone here is thinking about you. Give the little dear a kiss for me."

"I will," Michaela said. "I love you, Mother."

There was a long pause and finally Elizabeth gave a soft sigh. "I love you, sweetheart. Take care. We can't wait until you come home."

"Goodbye," Michaela murmured, slowly lowering the receiver.

Byron turned over restlessly in bed as a strong wind blew the branches of the trees against his window. He looked at Red Eagle's empty bed. He missed the little boy and his room felt very lonely without him. When he couldn't sleep before, he and Red Eagle would talk and tell each other jokes until they got tired. But now that Red Eagle was at Mr. Bray's, Byron was without his best friend and confidant.

He got out of bed and walked to the window, gazing outside tearfully. He looked up at the crescent moon.

"I'm sorry that I didn't say a prayer when Mama asked me to," he whispered tearfully. "I'm sorry I didn't pray for my baby sister." He took a shaky breath. "My sister can't die, too. You can't take her, too. Please, God. I didn't mean it, I promise." He sniffled and a few tears slipped down his cheeks. "I'll say a hundred prayers. Just don't let her die."

William opened the barn door. "Byron? Are you in here? Breakfast is ready."

He found the little boy sitting on the edge of Flash's stall gently combing her coat with a brush.

"Byron?" He approached him and clutched a post. The little boy looked very downtrodden and on the verge of tears.

"Gotta brush Mama's horse while she's gone," Byron whispered. "Keep her coat shiny."

"I see. You're doing a fine job."

"Thanks." His lip trembled and he swallowed hard.

William studied him carefully. "Byron, what is it, son?"

"Mama sounded so sad when we talked to her. I think Eliza's really sick."

William gently smoothed his hair. "Well, they don't know quite yet what's wrong with her. They must do some more tests. We'll find out soon."

He rested the brush on the side of the stall. Tears welled in his eyes and he shook his head. "I didn't mean it, Gran'pa. I didn't mean it."

"Oh, oh. What do you mean? You didn't mean what?"

He sniffled. "I didn't mean to get mad at her. I got mad at her sometimes when Mama always had to take care of her. I didn't like her. I didn't even say a prayer for her when she was sick. I was really bad. I said I….I hated her."

"Oh, Byron, that's all right. You mustn't think you had anything to do with her illness."

"I love her. I like havin' a baby sister. I didn't mean it."

"Of course not. Oh, shh, of course not. Of course you love her." He put his arm around him. "My mother had another baby too when I was about your age. My brother James. I was very jealous for some time. I liked being the only little boy around and I didn't care for how much attention he got from my parents."

He sniffled again. "Really? You got kinda mad sometimes, too?"

"Oh, yes, very mad. The point is all older brothers and sisters sometimes feel that way about a new baby. But the baby won't always require so much of your parents attention. This part of it won't last long. Very shortly she'll be old enough to walk and talk and you can play with her and teach her all sorts of things. You have so much to look forward to."

"But what if she dies? Jack died."

He lifted him off the stall and held him close. "I know. But it's like your mother said, they're doing everything they can for her so that doesn't happen." He gave him a gentle kiss. "Are you hungry? Think you can try a little porridge?"

"Porridge? What's that?"

"Oh, it's…well, it's what you call oatmeal."

"Oh! Yeah, all right," he said. "I like porridge."

He chuckled. "Come on, son."

Michaela roused herself from sleep as a nurse came into the room early in the morning with a tray of medical supplies. The nurse immediately inserted a thermometer into the baby's rectum and opened her pocket watch.

"Is that necessary?" Michaela murmured, stepping up to the bed and stroking the baby's head. "She doesn't feel warm."

"Routine," the nurse replied simply, removing the thermometer and gazing at it in the light. Then she wrote down the reading on a medical chart.

Sully awoke and joined Michaela at the bed. He knelt down and kissed the baby's head as the nurse took out a stethoscope and listened to the infant's heart.

"Hey, sweet girl," he whispered. "Ya have a good sleep?"

Eliza seemed a little wary of everything the nurse was doing to her. She lifted up her legs to kick the air and let out a little whimper.

"Hmm," the nurse replied, raising her eyebrows curiously.

"What?" Michaela replied.

"Oftentimes when infants aren't gaining weight it's due to some kind of heart defect. But I can't detect any murmur whatsoever." She removed the stethoscope.

"No, I've never heard anything," Michaela said.

The nurse felt the baby's diaper. "Not damp. She may be dehydrated."

"Oh. No, I don't think so. I changed her about half an hour ago," Michaela explained.

The nurse suddenly looked very annoyed. "You should call us in to do that. We need to monitor how often she's soiling her diaper."

"I'm sorry," Michaela said helplessly. She was very overwhelmed by the hospital staff taking complete control over the baby. She couldn't even nurse her because Dr. Patterson had insisted on a feeding tube for her. And now she was being scolded for changing her own daughter's diaper. She glanced at Sully despondently and he rubbed her back.

The nurse grabbed a lancet and held the baby's foot.

"Are you taking more blood?" Michaela asked. "But the doctor just took some last night."

"The results were inconclusive. We're going to need another sample," she explained, pricking the baby's foot with the lancet. The baby screamed and tossed her head as Michaela stroked her tiny chest and whispered to her.

"Hang on. It's all right, Eliza," Sully said, his own voice hoarse with emotion. It was difficult for him too to watch their tiny child have to endure all of this.

The nurse suddenly exited as quickly as she had come in, shutting the door after her. As soon as she was gone Michaela immediately picked up the baby and held her close.

"Shh, shh," she soothed. "It's over now. Oh, sweetheart. Oh, poor baby."

Eliza just continued to cry, tiny tears slipping down her flushed cheeks.

"It's all right. It's all right," Sully said. "Don't cry."

"She won't stop," Michaela said, shaking her head.

"Maybe if we laid her back down, rubbed her belly. She usually likes that," Sully suggested.

Michaela laid her on the crib mattress and lifted up her little shift, rubbing her belly in a circle and talking softly to her while Sully stroked her hair.

"It's all over," Michaela whispered. "We won't let them do that to you again, all right? Mama's here." She stopped short, brow suddenly wrinkling.

"What?" Sully asked curiously.

Michaela pressed down gently on the infant's belly with both hands. Eliza just kept crying, completely inconsolable at this point. She pushed gently all around her navel and then felt the baby's forehead.

"Sully, she has a hernia," she finally said, glancing at him. "I feel it."

"Hernia? Like what Loren had?"

"Yes, similar. I can feel a small portion of her intestine pressing through the abdominal wall, just here."

"Ya sure? Why didn't Dr. Patterson feel it? Or Andrew?"

"Sometimes you can't feel it unless the baby's crying. When she's crying she causes the intestine to push through. When she's calm it probably recedes back and is undetectable. I don't remember she was crying when any of us examined her before. That's why no one ever felt it."

"What do we do? Surgery?"

"Yes, it's a simple operation. It doesn't feel too large." She let out a great sigh of relief. "Oh, Sully. It's a hernia. It's easily correctable."

He smiled and drew her into a hug, tears welling in his eyes. "I'll get the doctor," he said, pulling back and squeezing her shoulder.

Michaela nodded and picked up the baby, kissing her reassuringly. "Oh, sweetheart. Everything's going to be fine. You're going to be feeling a lot better very soon."

"Thank you, Horace," Dorothy said as she stepped out of the telegraph office with a copy of the Denver Post that had just arrived. She paused as she heard some loud hammering from up on the roof. Intrigued, she circled the building until she saw William crouched on the roof, a few nails between his lips. He pulled one out and pounded it hard into a shingle.

"William!" she called up cheerfully, shielding her eyes.

He looked down and removed the nails from his lips. "Oh, Mrs. Jennings. Good morning."

"Mornin'. I thought the project was on hold until Sully and Michaela get back from Denver," she said.

"Well, it is. But I thought it might help if I put a few shingles up in the meantime. Our deadline for finishing remains the same. Sadly I don't think the railroad cares a bit that little Eliza is sick." He made his way to the ladder and climbed down, walking over to her.

"Any word?" Dorothy asked. "About the baby I mean."

"We don't know much. They're still doing tests." He walked to her and grasped her hand, giving it a kiss. "It's lovely to see you."

She shyly smiled. "Well, you….you must be so worried. I know I am."

"Yes. But we're all trying to stay optimistic," he said.

Dorothy reached for her handkerchief tucked beneath her blouse sleeve and brought it up to his cheek, dabbing at it.

William flinched. "What?"

She smiled wryly. "Just a little smudge of dirt here. Hold still."

"Blimey. Well, please get it then. I have to look presentable when the ladies come calling." He winked at her and she smiled back.

"There you are," she said, folding the handkerchief. "Good as new."

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps when they return home, when things have settled down, perhaps you might…?"

"Might what?" she prompted, her cheeks flushing faintly.

"Well, I do enjoy a nice evening walk after supper. And I know you do as well. Perhaps we could make a habit of walking together. That is, unless you don't prefer company."

"Yes, I'd like some company," she replied, pleased. "Especially if it's you."

He smiled softly. "Good."

"Well, I…I should get back to the Gazette," she replied a little hoarsely. "Good day, William."

He touched the brim of his hat. "Good day, Mrs. Jennings."

"Yes, I feel it now," Dr. Patterson said as he pressed down on the baby's abdomen. A nurse looked on, ready to fetch anything the doctor needed. "Ah, yes. Most definitely. Umbilical hernia, about two centimeters. Intestine is protruding but doesn't appear strangulated. She was probably born with it."

"It explains everything. The poor appetite, lethargy, irritability," Michaela said as she gently stroked Eliza's hair.

"Yes, this is actually good news," he replied, glancing at the nurse. "Prepare operating theater two for surgery please."

"Yes, doctor," she replied.

"I'll need you to go to the waiting room now," Dr. Patterson said, glancing at Michaela and Sully. "We'll operate immediately. I'm hoping there's no damage to her intestine, that I'll simply need to push it back and close the defect. Otherwise I'll have to remove a portion of her intestine, and that may take a little longer."

"I'd like to watch," Michaela said. "I'll stay out of the way."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. No family in the operating theater."

"But-"

"She's in good hands, Michaela," Sully said reassuringly. "Let's wait in the waitin' room."

She nodded and sighed, then knelt down and kissed the baby's head. "I'll see you soon, sweetheart. You'll be back to Mama very soon, I promise. I love you."

"I'll let you know as soon as we're finished," Dr. Patterson said.

The children filed into Jake's barbershop where he was trimming Hank's hair. Red Eagle was carrying a bucket of sudsy water.

"If you want a bath again you're gonna have to wait until I'm done here," Jake said.

"That's all right. We don't want a bath. We're doing chores around town," Red Eagle said.

"I got some chores I could give you," Hank said.

"Mama says her only rule is we're not allowed to work in the saloon," Katie spoke up.

"That's her only rule, huh? Figures," he replied. "Well, lucky for you your ma's not home. Why don't ya head on over to my place after my haircut?"

"She'll find out. She always does. We'll get in trouble," Red Eagle explained.

"Yeah. I already get in trouble enough as it is," Byron added.

Hank chuckled to himself and took a puff of his cigar.

"How about we wash your windows, Mr. Slicker?" Samantha suggested.

"Again? Thought you just washed 'em the other week."

"They're dirty again," Byron remarked.

"Well, how much to wash them?" Jake asked.

"A quarter," Samantha said.

He snipped at a lock of Hank's hair. "Make it a nickel and you got yourself a deal."

"Five cents!" Red Eagle cried. "For all that work?"

"Take it or leave it," he replied.

He glanced at the other children and they reluctantly nodded. "Guess we'll take it," he muttered, putting the bucket on the floor and taking out the cloth inside.

"One dollar, fourteen cents!" Red Eagle cried. "That's all?"

Byron squatted down in front of their change in the dust. The children were gathered in the ally alongside Loren's store where no one would see them.

"That's all," Byron muttered.

"We're never gonna have enough money to buy my mama anything good," Samantha said. "We'll be doing chores until we're a hundred!"

"Maybe even two hundred!" Katie added.

"My arms are gonna fall off first," Red Eagle said.

"We gotta raise our prices," Byron said. "Make money faster."

"But nobody's gonna pay us more," Katie protested. "They always wanna pay us less!"

Red Eagle looked down the street. "We just gotta ask the right people."

"Right people?" Samantha murmured.

"You mean rich people," Byron said.

"Yeah," Red Eagle replied pensively. "Rich people."

Byron marched up to Preston's bank carrying a bucket of warm water and opened the door, the rest of the children behind him. He found Preston talking on his telephone and taking notes in a portfolio.

"Afternoon, Mr. Lodge," Byron said.

"Just a minute. I'm on the telephone," he replied impatiently, not even looking at them.

"Oh, sorry."

"Yes, Arthur. I heard. Through the roof. Astounding. Yes, I'll speak with you tomorrow." He hung up the receiver and wrote some more in his notebook.

"Mr. Lodge?" Byron spoke up.

He glanced down. "Oh, it's you again. What can I do for you? I take it you're not here to open an account."

Byron held up the bucket. "We're washin' windows all over town. Want yours washed?"

"I see. Well, I just had them washed. Come back another time." He walked behind his counter.

"I see a smudge right there," Red Eagle said, pointing at one of the panes. "Whoever washed them didn't do a very good job."

Preston glanced at the smudge disapprovingly. "Hm. All right. How much to wash all of them?"

"A dollar," Katie said.

"A dollar!" He chuckled. "Inflation hasn't gone up that much!"

"What's that?" Samantha asked.

"A dollar. Do you know how much candy you could buy with a dollar?" Preston muttered.

"We'll do a really good job," Byron said. "It'll be the best windows you ever saw. Worth every penny."

"Worth every penny. Well, it better be at that price. All right, fine, fine. A dollar it is. If you promise to wash them inside and out. And don't drip water everywhere."

"Yes, sir!" Byron exclaimed.

"Thank you!" Red Eagle added as they all rushed outside.

Michaela glanced at the clock in the waiting room restlessly. "What could be taking so long?"

"Hasn't been that long," Sully said. "Couple hours. Sides, he said it might take time."

She stood up and paced back and forth. "Oh, Sully. She's so little to be undergoing surgery like this."

"She's gonna be fine. She's a tough girl. Just like her ma."

She smiled at him faintly and resumed her seat. Sully put his arm around her and held her close.

"Ya hungry? Want somethin' to eat?" he murmured.

"I couldn't eat now," she whispered.

"What about some hot coffee?" he suggested. "We could walk down to the hospital kitchen and buy some."

She shrugged reluctantly.

"Come on, it'll take our minds off this for a few minutes."

She nodded and they got to their feet, arms still around each other as they headed down the white hospital hallway.

"Kirk, I plum near sliced my hand open on your razor again," Faye said as she patted her face dry with a towel. "Please, honey, don't just leave it out like that."

"I'm sorry, honey. I forgot." He climbed out of bed, found his straight razor and closed it securely shut. Then he opened the night stand's small door and placed it inside.

Faye silently climbed into bed, smoothing the covers. Kirk got in beside her, studying her for a long moment.

"Honey? You ain't mad, are ya?" he whispered.

She looked at him strangely and swallowed hard. There was something weighing on her mind, had been for several days now. But what, Kirk had no idea.

"Honey?" he prompted. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she murmured. "It's nothing." Her lips curled up into a wry smile. "I can't wait until Sully gets back from Denver and you can go back to work. Me and Danielle are tired of havin' you underfoot around here all day long."

He chuckled. "Come 'ere." He gathered her in his arms and kissed her lovingly, stroking her back. "One good thing about Sully bein' gone, gave us plenty of time to work on havin' another baby. We'll have it done in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

"Kirk!" she scolded firmly. "You make it sound like just another construction project!"

He smiled. "This construction project's a lot more fun than anything I ever done, that’s for sure."

"Oh, you," she scolded, chuckling and pressing her lips back to his.

Dr. Patterson opened the door and entered the waiting room, drying his hands on a towel.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sully?"

Michaela and Sully stood up together, holding hands.

"Everything went just fine," he said with a soft smile. "I repaired the hernia and she's very stable."

"Oh, thank God," Michaela breathed, turning to Sully and hugging him tightly. "Oh, she's all right."

"She's all right," Sully repeated emotively.

The doctor smiled kindly. "I'd like to keep her here a few days, give her a chance to start gaining weight again. Then if everything goes as planned you can take her home on Friday."

"Could I nurse her?" Michaela asked hopefully.

"Yes, I think you could try it. As long as she's awake and up to it."

Michaela smiled with relief and Sully squeezed her hand.

"You can see her now if you'd like," he said with a smile. "Not that I have to even ask."

Sully squeezed her hand all the tighter and they followed the doctor to the recovery room.

"Are you hungry?" Michaela murmured, gently stroking the baby's cheek. Eliza was snuggled up at her mother's breast, tiredly opening and closing her eyes. "Think you can stay awake to try a little more?"

"She looks so sleepy," Sully said, squeezing the baby's fingers.

"She's still groggy from the anesthetic," Michaela explained. She tickled her cheek to stimulate her and the baby latched onto the breast and suckled for a long moment.

"There she goes. Oh, good girl," Sully whispered. "Ya need lots of your ma's milk to get your strength back, all right?

"Oh, I'm so happy I can still nurse her," Michaela said. "I wasn't ready to give this up so soon."

"Don't think she was either," Sully said with a soft chuckle.

"We should wire everyone at home. Let them know she's all right."

"Yeah. They'll be glad to hear it."

She kissed the baby's head lovingly. "Friday can't come soon enough."

William added a log to the fire and then wrapped himself in a quilt and resumed his seat in the wingback chair, gazing into the crackling flames. He turned as he heard soft footsteps heading down the stairs.

"Byron, son, is that you?" he called.

"I can't sleep, Gran'pa," he replied, walking to his side in his nightshift.

"Oh," he replied, a little out of his element. "What does your mother do when you can't sleep?"

"Lets me sit up on her lap and tells me a story," he replied resolutely. "Can you tell me a story, Gran'pa?"

"I suppose I could try," he murmured, giving him a hand up. Byron crawled up into his lap and cuddled up under the blanket.

"Your lap is really big," Byron remarked.

He chuckled softly. "Now, let's see, a story. Once there was a young man named Will who was a farmer in the south of England. One day as he was toiling in the fields he met a beautiful maiden who for some reason was fond of him, too."

"What was her name?" Byron interrupted.

He paused. "Katherine," he whispered. "Her name was Katherine."

"Oh, that's Katie's name."

"Yes, indeed. And she had hair the color of little Katie's hair, too. Well, as you would expect they fell in love and married and had a beautiful son. It was then that they heard about a far away place called America where they were giving land away for free. Or close to it."

"America? You mean here?" Byron asked.

"Yes, but not Colorado. In a place called New York. Close to Boston where your mother is from."

"Oh. I've been to Boston once."

"Have you now? Then you must have taken a train through New York to get there."

"Keep telling the story. It's good so far," he encouraged.

He smoothed back his hair. "Well, the couple didn't have very much money. And in the old days you had to get on a crowded ship for weeks and weeks just to get to America. But the couple so wanted to come to this land that they were willing to do it. And would you believe that on that long voyage, a second son came along?"

"Whoa. On the ship?" Byron asked.

"Yes, precisely. They finally arrived in America with their two sons and started their farm." He paused a moment, lowering his eyes.

"Then what? What happens?" Byron spoke up.

"They…they lived happily ever after," he replied, giving his head a gentle pat.

"Oh. Good story, Gran'pa," he replied.

He gave his head a gentle kiss. "Try to close your eyes. It's very late."

Byron rested his head against the old man's shoulder. Then he raised his head. "Gran'pa?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad I have a gran'pa now."

"I'm glad I have a grandson," he whispered back.

William wheeled Elizabeth up to the table at the café. They had just taken the children to school, Brian had gone off to his new homestead to work and it looked as if it were just going to be the two of them for the day while they waited impatiently for news about Eliza.

"You know, if I couldn't live in Boston I think I would have liked to live in St. Louis," Elizabeth remarked. "With that beautiful river and all the shopping and restaurants I hear they have."

"Yes, it's a lovely town," he remarked. "The people are very kind. I've never been without work."

Grace came over with her coffee pot and two mugs. "Just coffee today, folks?" She smiled at William. "Oh, you want tea, don't you?"

He smiled at her kindly. "Thank you, ma'am. If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"No, course not," she said, patting his shoulder. She filled Elizabeth's cup and then went off to her stove.

"Is that what you've been doing the whole time there? Just working?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Well, yes. And I did remarry some time ago. She was a nursemaid for a family I did some roof work for."

"Oh. William, do you have other children?" she asked.

"No. No, we weren't blessed," he said. "I suppose we never really….really thought seriously of having children. We were both working so hard to make ends meet." He bent his head. "Deep down I didn't feel right about having children. I'd already destroyed the first family I had. I was afraid what I would do with another."

She swallowed hard, struck by the pain in his eyes. "What of your wife? Is she still in St. Louis?"

"Well, she's passed on, Mrs. Quinn. About ten years ago. Bella was only about fifty when she became ill. Cancer. It was very quick. I've been alone ever since."

"I'm very sorry."

"And what of your background? Did you grow up in Boston?"

She took a sip of coffee. "Yes. My parents passed away when I was a little girl. I spent most of my growing up years living with my aunt and cousins. When I was eighteen I was presented with a handful of suitors, and I somehow managed to pick out Josef. Or he picked me. I can't remember."

"Michaela's father?"

"Yes. Josef Quinn. He was a doctor, a recent Harvard graduate. He worked at the hospital nearby right up until his death."

"Oh, I see. That's how Michaela ended up practicing medicine."

"Michaela's the last of five girls. Josef kept wanting me to give him a son, but I couldn't perform. So he settled for her. He was intent on carrying on the family tradition from the moment she was born." She chuckled. "I must admit at times I thought I had married a lunatic. I was rather opposed to this whole thing for much of her life. But now I realize he was right. Michaela wouldn't be Michaela unless she was a doctor. I'm very proud of her."

"I can see that. And I can see how much you love her, and her children. It's very beautiful, a mother's love."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Yes, well."

"Mrs. Quinn," Horace called as he rushed into the café, holding Samantha's hand. He handed her a telegram. "This just came in. I brought it over straight away."

"Good morning, Sammy," William said, touching her freckled nose.

She giggled. "Hey, Will."

"Thank you, Horace," Elizabeth said as she unfolded the telegram.

William waved at Samantha as she followed Horace back to the telegraph office. He turned his attention to Elizabeth. Tears were streaming down her face and she was pressing the telegram to her heart.

"Elizabeth!" He felt his throat go dry with fear at the thought of what the telegram said. Perhaps their worst fears had come true and little Eliza hadn't been able to hang on anymore. She was such a tiny thing and he had always wondered how much more of this she was going to be able to endure. "Elizabeth, is she….?"

She opened her eyes, sniffling. "No, no. She's fine. She's going to be fine. They'll be home by the end of the week."

He quickly got up and put his arms around her, holding her reassuringly.

"She's going to be fine, William," Elizabeth said. "Oh, thank the Lord."

"Oh, that's so good to hear," he said. "There, there. It's time to be happy now."

"William, losing Jack, their son, it was the worst thing that could have possibly happened to them. It was so hard on them, on all of us. Michaela and Sully just don't deserve to go through that again and I so feared that’s what was happening."

"There, there. That's not what's happening. She is going to be all better now."

She smiled with relief and held him close. "Our granddaughter's going to be fine," she echoed.

"Yes," he said, tears welling in his eyes. "Our granddaughter."

Sully rejoined Michaela at their seat and handed her a wrapped sandwich.

"Turkey. It's all they had," he said.

"I'm not hungry," she murmured as she gazed out the train window. The train was making its way through a dim tunnel blasted into the mountain ridge on its way south to Colorado Springs.

"Michaela, ya gotta eat somethin'. It's a long train ride."

"I will a little later. I promise."

He sat down with his sandwich and unwrapped it, glancing at the baby and rubbing her head. "How's she doin'?"

"Just fine. Sleeping."

"She's a tired thing," he remarked.

"I know. But it's normal after going through surgery like that. The important thing is she's eating now, gaining weight again."

He patted her knee. "Hey, cheer up. Everything's gonna be fine now."

"I know. It's not her. It's just, I've been thinking. Now that we're going home there's still something else we've yet to deal with."

He paused a moment, slowly chewing. "Byron?" he murmured.

She nodded. "We have an important decision to make. Teresa wants to know as soon as possible."

"How ya feelin' about it?"

"Truthfully, I don't know. At first I thought it was a terrible idea. But now I'm wondering if you're right, if it might be good for him."

"It's just hard to watch him struggle with his schoolwork all the time when it comes so easy to the other kids," he said. "If we hold him back school might be a little easier on him, he won't get so frustrated all the time. He might start likin' school a little more."

"Or he might end up hating it. This could just end up making him feel more frustrated than ever if he thinks he's not capable of keeping up with the other children."

"That's true, and we gotta be careful about that. But fact is, I think it woulda helped me I got held back when I was his age. School was always real hard for me. But in those days they didn't hold ya back. If you didn't understand somethin' the first time you were never gonna learn it. When my ma died and I ran off, I was happy to never go to school again."

"I don't want that to happen to him. I don't want him to never learn something important just because we want him to move on with everyone else."

"Each child's different. Our kids have taught me that. For some reason Byron learns a little different. I think we gotta do some things that may be tough to help him cope with that."

She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder tiredly.

"Here, why don't ya take a little nap?" he suggested, putting his arm around her. "We'll be home soon."

Katie and Red Eagle ran up to their parents as they disembarked from the train. Michaela was holding the baby in her sling and Sully carried their luggage.

"Mama! Papa!" the children both cried.

Michaela held out her arms with a big smile and crouched to embrace them, and Sully put down the luggage to hug them.

"Eliza's all better?" Katie asked, gazing at the baby and rubbing her arm.

"All better," Michaela said.

Red Eagle kissed the baby and Katie followed suit.

"Where's Byron?" Michaela asked, smoothing back Katie's hair lovingly. She searched the crowded depot until she saw Byron several yards away, holding William and Elizabeth's hands. Michaela burst into a smile and held out her arms. He beamed and broke away from his grandparents, running to her.

Michaela held him tightly. "Oh, I missed you. My sweetheart."

He buried his head beneath her neck. "I'm sorry, Mama. I’m really sorry."

"Sorry for what?" she replied in confusion.

"I'm sorry I was mean to the baby. I said bad things. I didn't mean to."

She gazed at him tearfully. "Oh, sweetheart. I know you didn't. I'm sorry, too. Mama hasn't been very attentive to much else since Eliza was born. But from now on things are going to be different."

Byron pushed back the baby's bonnet to kiss her forehead. "I'm glad you're better now, baby sister. I love you."

Michaela shared a pleased glance with Sully.

"Let's go home," he said with a smile.

"Look, Mama. Gran'pa made us this while you were gone," Byron said eagerly as they all filed into the dining room. He held up a long wooden paddle excitedly as Sully carried in their luggage.

"What is it?" she asked wryly as she rubbed the baby's back. "Is that for doing my laundry?"

"No, Mama!" he said with a giggle. "It's a cricket bat to play cricket. Cricket's like baseball only better."

"Well, that's a little editorializing on my part," William spoke up.

"And it's good for getting your sister," Byron said, giving Katie's bottom a gentle pat with the bat.

Katie screeched and then giggled and Red Eagle laughed. "Hey, don't!"

William smiled and took the bat from him. "Byron, now I didn't make it for that."

"It sounds like you all had a good time with Grandpa," Michaela remarked, rubbing Byron's back. "I'm glad."

"I'm starving," Byron said. "Can we have supper?"

"I'll get it started right away if you'll help me," Michaela said. "William, I hope you'll stay and eat with us."

"Michaela," Sully spoke up, clearing his throat as he hung up his jacket. "Maybe we better, uh, keep things quiet tonight. We just got back."

"Sully," she scolded softly.

William glanced at his son awkwardly. "No, no, I couldn't stay. I have to be getting back."

"But, William-"

"No, Sully's right. You just got home and you deserve some peace and quiet and time with your children."

Michaela reluctantly nodded. "Children, thank your grandfather for being so kind and staying with you all this time."

Katie and Byron ran to him and hugged him tightly.

"I don't want you to go, Gran'pa," Byron said. "I want you to sleep over again."

"Now, now. I'll see you again soon. Goodnight."

Katie kissed his cheek. "Bye, Gran'pa."

"Oh, sweet Katie," he murmured. He straightened and waved at Red Eagle. "Goodbye, son."

Red Eagle reluctantly gave him a little wave.

"Let me see you out, William," Michaela said, following him to the door. She shut it after them. "William, I'm so sorry. After everything you did for us the least we can do is give you supper."

"No, it's all right. Truly."

She stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, William. You've made this whole ordeal a lot easier on Sully and I. We never had to worry about anything here."

"I'm just glad she's better. Whatever I could do to help." He stepped down, then turned back around. "Oh, while you were away I moved her crib right up next to your bed. I hope you don't mind."

"Moved her crib? Why?" she asked, perplexed.

"Well, you said you have trouble letting her sleep in there. I thought it would help if you had her right close to you. Perhaps you could slowly move the crib back as you get more comfortable with the idea."

She reluctantly nodded. "All right. I suppose we could try that."

"Goodnight," he replied, putting his hat back on.

"Goodnight, William," she replied softly as he mounted his horse and galloped out to the road.

"There you are, sweetheart," Michaela whispered as she lowered Eliza into the crib and covered her up warmly. "How's this? You like your crib?"

Sully opened the door and walked across the room, washing up at the basin. "I should go into town early tomorrow, try to get an early start. I'm gonna have to work pretty hard to get that new addition done in time."

"That's fine. It was so kind of Horace to be so understanding about all this."

"He's a good man." He patted his chest dry and turned around. "You move her crib there? Why's it next to the bed?"

"It was William's idea. He thought it might help me. With getting used to having her in there."

Even Sully had to admit that sounded like a good idea. "Oh. Yeah."

She climbed under the covers and drew them around her. "It would have been nice if he could have stayed for supper. William."

He approached the crib and reached down into it, smiling at Eliza as she slept. He rubbed her belly. "She's lookin' so much better. Look, even her cheeks look real chubby again."

"I don't remember the other children being this chubby, were they? She's so sweet with those big rosy cheeks."

"Yeah, she's sure a sweet thing." He leaned forward and kissed Michaela. "You and me made a real good baby, Mama. I think we're just gettin' better at this."

She smiled at him lovingly and patted his place beside her. He slipped off his boots and then climbed under the covers.

"Think you're gonna be all right without her in the bed tonight?" he asked, gathering her in his arms.

"I think so. She's right next to me. As long as I can hear her breathing I'm all right."

"You get a good sleep," he said, kissing her head. "We had a long week."

Michaela awoke first the next morning, surprised to see Sully asleep beside her. They were both early risers, but he was usually up before her, no matter how early she tried to get up. She glanced at the clock. No wonder, it was only quarter past four. Even Sully was usually still asleep at this hour. She raised her head and looked in the crib beside the bed. The baby was just fine, sleeping soundly beneath a white crocheted blanket Elizabeth had knitted for Katie years ago.

Michaela sighed and tried to go back to sleep to no avail. Finally she sat up in bed and rested her hands in her lap.

"You were pretty restless last night," Sully whispered.

Michaela glanced at him. "I'm sorry. Was I keeping you awake?"

"It's all right." He rubbed her thigh sleepily and then kissed it. Michaela gently ran her fingers through his sleep-tossed hair for a long moment.

"Sully?" she whispered.

"Hm?"

"I don't want him to struggle in school like this for his entire childhood," she said unsteadily. "It's not fair to him."

He slowly shifted up to her level. "Byron?"

"It's not as if we haven't tried other ways first. We've all been trying very hard to help him learn. He's going to be upset, there's no avoiding that. But the more I think about it the more I think Teresa's right."

"We'll help him through it. But if we're gonna do this, I think it's better to do it now than later when he's older."

"Then you think we should hold him back?"

"Yeah, I do. I think Teresa put a lot of thought into it, wouldn’t have suggested it if she didn't think it was a good idea."

She swallowed hard. "I'll tell Teresa today."

"Have a good day," Michaela said quietly.

"Bye, Mama," they all called as they headed over to the seesaws with their schoolmates.

Michaela looked up at the schoolhouse door. She cradled the baby in her sling and headed up the stairs and inside.

Teresa was distributing some corrected papers on the desks. She stopped what she was doing. "Good morning, Dr. Quinn."

"Good morning." Michaela saw no reason not to get straight to the point. "My husband and I discussed it, and we've decided Byron should repeat the second grade."

Teresa looked momentarily surprised, then she nodded. "Yes. Good."

Michaela cleared her throat awkwardly. "Thank you," she murmured, not knowing what else to say. She headed back down the aisle.

"Dr. Quinn," Teresa called suddenly.

Michaela paused and turned back around.

"You made the right decision," Teresa said.

"I hope so," Michaela replied quietly.

Sully unloaded his toolbox from the back of his wagon and Kirk and William took out some crates filled with boxes of nails, hinges and other supplies. Sully circled the post office's new addition, surveying what they had done so far.

"Who put those shingles up there?" he suddenly demanded, walking quickly up to the men.

"What shingles?" Kirk asked.

"What do ya mean?" another worker asked.

Sully pointed at the roof. "Somebody's already put up all the shingles on the south side. One of you do that when I was in Denver?"

William removed his cap. "Well, that was me, Sully. I thought I should make myself useful. The children were in school and I had nothing else to do."

"I'm foreman, ya don't take the liberty of workin' ahead without my permission," Sully said sternly.

Kirk climbed up the ladder a few steps. "Looks good, Sully. That's fine work. That'll put us ahead half a day."

"Point is ya shouldn'ta done it," Sully retorted.

William swallowed. "I'm sorry. I thought I was helping."

"Ya try somethin' like that again and you're fired," Sully murmured, brushing past him and heading back to his wagon.

He spotted Matthew waiting for him nearby holding his hat. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Uh, sorry, Sully, this a bad time?"

"No. Somethin' wrong, Matthew?"

"Dr. Mike's not at the clinic. I needed to talk to her."

"She's comin' in later today. Gonna work on her garden this mornin'."

"Oh. That best man's suit Gran'ma ordered for me, it just come in. Problem is the trousers are too long. I was hopin' two of 'em could fix it in time for the weddin'."

"I'll make sure she gets 'em. Where are they?"

"In my office," he said.

They walked down the street for the jail.

"William not workin' out?" Matthew said tentatively.

Sully glanced at him. "Just don't think he understands how I like to run things."

"What'd he do?"

"Matthew, if you're gonna tell me I ain't given him a fair chance, I get enough of that from your ma and everybody else."

Matthew unlocked the door. "Wasn't gonna tell ya that. Fact is, I think ya got every right to be angry."

"It's not angry. Just…" He crossed his arms. "Disappointed, I guess. Wish things had been different."

"I understand."

"Ya do?" he murmured.

"You know what my own pa did to me, my little brother and sister. Father like that don't deserve to be in our lives. I'd be happy I never hear from Ethan again."

"He ever came crawlin' back, would ya give him a chance?" Sully asked curiously.

"No, I don't think so. Not now. Too late for that." He picked up the trousers off his desk. "Sully, it's up to you if you want William around. Don't let anybody make ya feel like you ain't bein' fair. You gotta do what's right for you."

"Thanks, Matthew. I appreciate that."

Matthew handed him the trousers. "Guess it was a little easier on me than most lettin' my real pa go."

"How's that?"

"I had you and Dr. Mike to look up to instead. You been my folks since my ma passed on. I'm glad you were here for me. All three of us. Wasn't for you, I woulda been on my own."

Sully glanced at the trousers. "I'll make sure they get these."

"Tell 'em thank you for me."

"I will."

"Oh, sweetheart, you're a mess," Faye remarked. "Take off that shirt and wash up."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, walking across the room to the table and filling up the basin with water from a pitcher.

"How was your day?" she asked as she added salt to the stew.

"Pretty good. Pay day today. Tomorrow we can pay off Mr. Bray at the mercantile and get our groceries." He slipped off his shirt and washed his chest and neck. "Honey? That sound good?"

"Yes, fine," she said quietly. "Kirk? How's Mr. Sully gettin' along? I mean, I keep thinkin' how hard it must be on the both of them. I feel so bad for them."

"Ya might say he and Sully ain't exactly two peas in a pod." He walked to the highchair and picked up the baby, tossing her into the air. "Hey, darlin'! How ya doin'?!"

"Pa!" Danielle replied. She giggled and babbled something incomprehensible, touching one hand to his five o'clock shadow and screeching.

"Kirk?" Faye whispered. "What're we gonna do when this job is over? Where will you work next?"

He eyed her curiously, putting the baby on his hip. "Well, I don't know, honey. We'll figure it out. We always do."

"You were lucky to get this job. Lot of men in town would like to be in your shoes. I just worry eventually the jobs are gonna run out."

"No, a man with carpentry know-how is always gonna be somebody folks need. Don't you worry yourself." He walked over to her and gave her a sweet kiss. "What ya got cookin'?"

"Rabbit stew." She heaved a sigh. "Kirk, you sure we should have another baby just now? I mean, maybe now ain't a good time."

He rubbed her back. "What're ya talkin' about? Honey, what's wrong? We been tryin'. Thought ya wanted another."

"I do. I do. It's just, what if we can't provide for it? Dr. Mike says Sully's pa, he up and left when times got tough. Never came back."

"That what's been botherin' ya?" he murmured. "Faye, you know that would never happen to us."

"William's a good man. Got a good soul. I can tell. But even he left when things got to be too much."

"Honey, he was just a kid when that happened."

"We're young, too, don't forget. My pa nearly disowned me for marryin' so young. I wasn't a day shy over sixteen. Same age as Sully's ma when she got married."

"Well, we were in love. What were we supposed to do?" he replied, giving her another kiss. "And I'm still in love. Listen to me, we are stickin' together through good times and bad. I'm never gonna leave ya, that's a promise."

"Oh, Kirk. I know. I'm sorry." She hugged him tightly. "I'd never leave you either. Not that I have much else place to go!"

He chuckled. "Then I guess you could say we're stuck in this."

She laughed and kissed Danielle's cheek. "Well, that's a good kind of stuck."

"You bet it is," he replied, holding her all the closer.

"Sorry it's mostly pennies and nickels," Samantha spoke up. The children were covered in dust after cleaning out Dorothy's attic at the Gazette all afternoon. She had generously paid them fifty cents for the job, which gave them enough to buy the cameo they wanted. Or so they hoped.

"Shh, don't make me lose count," he replied. "Sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three. That's four dollars, sixty-three cents."

The children's faces fell. They had been hard at work all over town for two weeks only to come up short.

"But I thought it was five," Byron protested. "I counted twice."

"You counted all wrong, Byron," Red Eagle said with a sigh. "I told you I should do it."

"I'm sorry," he said with a little frown. He bent his head guiltily. "Sometimes I mix up the coins."

"Guess we're gonna have to do more chores," Red Eagle muttered. "Come on, Samantha, Katie."

Loren grumbled and folded his arms. "You really want that cameo, do you?"

"Yes, Mr. Bray," Katie said. "The one in your case."

He opened his case and took out the cameo. "Well, it just so happens I'm running a sale today on cameos."

"You are?" Byron exclaimed. "How much?"

"Well, this one here is four dollars sixty-three cents."

"That's exactly what we have!" Samantha exclaimed.

"So it is," he muttered.

"We'll take it! Can you wrap it up, too?" Katie asked.

"Oh, all right. I'll wrap it up, too," he replied impatiently, shaking his head and tearing off a piece of brown paper from the roll.

Byron quickly circled the counter and hugged Loren's waist tightly.

Loren paused and gave his dusty hair a gentle pat. "Well, I've seen you around town workin' hard. You deserve it. Now give me some space to wrap this up."

She was just about to leave when she spotted a small, suspicious package on the bed. Raising her eyebrows, she grabbed the little package and turned it over in her hands.

"What's this?" she murmured allowed. She pulled back the string to reveal a small leather box. Then she opened it up, uncovering a simple but beautiful cameo.

"Oh my Lord," she whispered, pressing her hand to her heart. She looked up in confusion. "Oh, no," she said. "Hank."

"All right. It's bedtime," Michaela said as she walked into the room with Sully.

"Five more minutes?" Katie asked sweetly.

"No," Michaela replied. "Good try though."

She giggled and gathered the sticks, putting them back in the canister and sealing the top.

"I'll come up and tuck you in, we'll read from our chapter book," Michaela said.

"Don't forget to say goodnight to your gran'ma in her room," Sully added.

The children headed off but Michaela grasped Byron's sleeve, holding him back.

"Byron, could you stay down here a moment please?" Michaela said.

He lingered back as the other children went off to Elizabeth's room.

Michaela pulled out a chair for him. "Let's sit," she said. "Your papa and I have something we need to talk to you about."

He looked at her a little apprehensively and sat down.

Michaela took a seat beside him and caressed his shoulder. "First of all I want to tell you how proud we are of you. You've been working hard in school lately and studying a great deal and you've never given up."

He swung his legs and smiled. "Thanks, Mama. I’m getting better at arithmetic."

"Yes, you are." She took a deep breath, glancing at Sully. This was turning out to be even harder than she thought. "Byron, we’ve been talking with your teacher and she feels that…well, we all feel that it would be a good idea if you got a little extra help on your second grade lessons before going on to the third grade ones."

His smile slowly faded. "But…I'm almost done with the second grade lessons. I'm gonna be in the third grade next term."

"I know. I know that's what we planned," Michaela said unsteadily. "But we've come to believe it would be better if you keep doing second grade lessons next year."

She could see Byron's face rapidly falling as he digested it all. He shook his head. "You mean, I have to do second grade again?"

Sully clutched his shoulder. "This is gonna help ya understand your lessons better, son. So when ya do go on to third grade it's gonna be a lot easier for ya."

He kept shaking his head. "I knew I was dumb!"

"No, sweetheart. No," Michaela admonished. "You are a very smart little boy. There's all different kinds of ways to learn. Learning from books is just one way. And it's harder for some children than for others. It does not mean you are dumb."

He burst into tears, folding his arms on the table and burying his head against them. "I am. I'm too stupid for third grade. I'm not smart like everybody else. I'm never gonna be any good at school. I'll be in the second grade forever."

"That's not true. Sweetheart, monkey, don't cry. Come here," Michaela said. She drew him into a hug and looked at Sully helplessly.

Sully rubbed his back, swallowing hard. "It's all right. Shh."

"Mama, please don't make me," he begged. "Please don't keep me back. I'll study harder. I'll do homework all day long."

"I know this hurts," Michaela said as she let a few tears of her own slip down her cheeks. "I know this isn't what you would prefer. But Papa and I and your teacher have to think about all the years you have left in school, and what we can do to help you do well and succeed. Keeping you back a year is something we decided to do after a lot of careful thought." She cupped his cheeks in her hands and smoothed his tears. "Oh, sweetheart."

Another wave of tears hit and he hugged her tighter. Michaela let him cry and just kept holding him and rocking him while Sully stood by and rubbed his back.

"He's asleep," Michaela said as she shut the bedroom door. Sully was in bed, the baby dozing across his chest as he gently stroked her back.

"Good," he whispered.

Michaela climbed in beside him. "That was difficult."

He gazed at the baby and kept stroking her back.

"I hope we're doing the right thing," she said with a sigh. "I don't want him going through his childhood thinking he's not smart enough. Is this the right thing?" She paused and touched his arm. "Sully?"

"Hm?"

"Sully, what's wrong?" she probed.

He glanced at her a moment. "I don't know. I just been thinkin'. He gets it from me."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Book learnin'. I was never real good at it myself. He gets it from me."

"Don’t be silly," she admonished.

"Michaela, your whole family's got brains. Ya know how bright ya always been. Ya were top of your class in medical school. I'm glad Katie takes after you. I hope Eliza does, too. But Byron's more like me and we both know it."

She gently clutched his hand. "Yes, he is like you. He's caring and sensitive and patient. And loving, so very loving. He has the most beautiful heart." She squeezed his hand. "I think he just has skills that are difficult to see in a classroom. You for instance, you're a gifted craftsman. You can build anything. A wheelchair, furniture, even houses. And you have an ear for languages. You pick up new words just like that. Sully, it's all right if traditional learning isn't where his strengths are. He'll hone in on his strengths just like you have."

He gazed at her appreciatively. "Too bad school ain't about buildin' things. Me and Byron both woulda done real well."

She smiled. "We should get some sleep. It's late."

He got out of bed and put the baby in her crib, which was now moved about three feet from the bed. He tucked a blanket over her and smoothed her hair.

"He's gonna be all right, Michaela," he said reassuringly. "I know it's tough to take at first but it's like ya said. This is gonna help him succeed."

She cuddled against him as he got back in bed. "I hope so."

"Don't you want eggs, sweetheart?" Michaela asked as she watched Byron pick at his breakfast. She refilled Sully's coffee cup and then Elizabeth's, the baby over her shoulder.

He glanced up and shrugged.

She circled the table and came up behind him, rubbing his back. "What about pancakes? I know you love Mama's pancakes. I can make you some right now."

He shook his head.

"Come on, Byron. You eat your breakfast," Sully spoke up gently. He didn't really like to see Michaela baby their son and encourage him to sulk, but even he couldn't help feeling terrible about how hard the little boy had taken the news that he was being held back in school. He had been dragging his feet ever since he found out.

Byron tentatively took a bite of eggs and Michaela stooped and kissed his cheek a few times. "What about coming to the clinic today with Mama and be my special helper? I could really use you."

"I guess," he whispered.

"Can I help, too?" Katie asked hopefully.

"Yes, you all can," Michaela said as she resumed her seat.

"Hey, what do ya say we practice hurlin' this afternoon?" Sully spoke up. "All of us. Soon as I get done with fixin' that fence."

"Oh, that sounds like fun," Michaela said helpfully.

"Yeah. I'll put the bases out front for ya, before I go into the Gazette," Brian offered.

Someone knocked on the door and Brian got up to answer it. William was standing on the porch holding a fishing reel.

"Oh, mornin', Gran'pa," Brian said. "Come on in."

He walked into the room and smiled tentatively.

"Gran'pa!" Katie called sweetly.

"William, would you like some breakfast?" Michaela asked.

"No thank you. I was wondering…I was thinking perhaps I could take the children fishing this morning?"

Michaela glanced at Sully and he gave her a small nod of approval.

"Well, what do you say, children?" Michaela asked with a smile.

Katie got up and ran to him, giving him a hug. "I'll go, Gran'pa!"

"What about you, Red Eagle?" William asked.

"No, I wanna help Mama at the clinic," Red Eagle said.

William held Katie's hand and walked to the table. "Byron? Are you coming?"

He ate another bite of eggs and shrugged.

"Sweetheart, why don't you go?" Michaela said. "You love to fish."

"Yes, you should go, Byron," Elizabeth added. "Fresh air will do you all some good."

He heaved a sigh.

"Go on," Michaela encouraged. "Go get your fishing poles in the barn and I'll make you all some sandwiches."

"All right," he muttered, sliding down from his chair and scurrying outside.

"Is something wrong?" William asked as he watched Byron take off.

"He has to do second grade again," Katie explained softly. "He's sad."

"It doesn't mean he's dumb," Red Eagle spoke up defensively. "He just learns different."

"Yes, that's right, sweetheart," Michaela said.

"Yes, I never thought he was dumb," William replied. "Of course it doesn't mean that."

"His teacher thinks the best thing to do is to hold him back a year," Michaela said as she got up and cleared some dishes. "But I'm afraid he's very upset at the moment."

"Oh. That's understandable."

"Well, it's all his teacher's fault of course," Elizabeth said. "She simply can't handle a child who breaks the mold."

"Mother," Michaela scolded. She walked to William and gently patted his arm. "He could use a little cheering up."

"I'll do my best," he said with a soft smile.

"Eww!" Katie said as she held up a worm and quickly dropped it into the bait bucket. "Gran'pa, I just found another!"

"Good girl," he called. "Keep digging. We'll need lots more big fat worms."

Katie picked up her trowel and delved around in the sticky mud as she squatted near the creek bed.

Byron was sitting on a fallen log, his face drawn, as he held his pole and stared into the water.

"Move your pole just a bit more, Byron," William instructed as he took a seat beside him and dropped his line into the water. "We want the fish to see the bait."

Byron moved the pole up and down and heaved another sigh.

William eyed him a long moment. "You know, son, when I was your age we didn't have schools. At least not in the small town I was from."

"Liphook?" Byron whispered.

"Yes, Liphook in Hampshire. You remember."

"You're lucky," he muttered.

"My mother taught me to read," he explained. "And my sums and a little history. But I was not very fond of any of that. I would much rather be in the fields with my father. That's what I was good at."

"I wish I could just help Papa, too. I hate school."

"Do you know what I do when I read something? I mix up the letters. Ds look like Bs to me and I never could master which way the S should go. And my spelling, I just can't spell worth a lick."

Byron looked up at him curiously. "Really? You're not so good at learning either?"

"Afraid not. But the important thing is that I always tried my best at things I’m not very good at. And in the meantime, I sought out what I was good at. Like carpentry, painting, fixing things." He gave his shoulder a playful squeeze. "Cricket."

Byron smiled a little, reassured. "I guess I'm pretty good at baseball. And I'm good at building things. Even Papa said. And I can paint, too!" He sighed and swallowed hard. "But I guess I'm always gonna be dumb in school."

"I know that's how it feels at the moment. But when something is difficult, we mustn't give up and feel sorry for ourselves. We must see it as a challenge, as something to overcome. When you go back to school, I want you to work as hard as you can. And the work will seem a bit easier, won't it, now that you've seen it before? Why, I bet you'll be the smartest boy of all the children in the second grade."

"I guess maybe. I guess I could try."

"Good. I'm proud of you."

His line moved and Byron brightened. "I think I got one!"

"Oh, yes you do!" William exclaimed, standing up. "Hurry, pull it in!"

Byron got to his feet and tugged hard on the line, groaning with the effort. "Katie, look! Gran'pa, it's a big one!"

"Look at it!" Katie squealed.

William grabbed the line and helped him to drag the fish out of the water. "Yes, it is! A big trout! Four pounds at least!"

Byron hauled the fish to shore and screeched. "Look what I caught! Look!"

"Well done," William praised. "A good supper that will make!"

Byron held it up in admiration. "Thanks, Gran'pa."

"No, it wasn't me. You caught that all by yourself. You're a fine fisherman."

Byron hugged him tightly. "Yeah."

Dorothy and William strolled across the meadow back to town. Dorothy was lightly holding onto his arm.

"Well, Tommy didn't really take to school either," Dorothy remarked. "It was always hard as parents to know what to do. Eventually he found something he was real good at, being a soldier in the army. He fought in the war. We were all so proud."

"Tommy, is that your son you mean?"

"Oh, yes. Tom. But he's all grown up now."

"I didn't know you had children."

She smiled faintly. "Yes, three of them. Two girls and a boy."

"Where are they?" he asked curiously.

She swallowed hard. "Oh, moved away. You know how children are."

"Yes," he murmured. "Do they have red hair, too?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

She blushed faintly. "Two of them did. Tommy and Elly. As for my oldest girl, she has brown hair like her father."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"What?" she asked.

"Tommy and Elly. They don't sound very grown up to me."

She smiled. "Oh, I keep forgetting myself. They hate when I call them by their nicknames. 'It's just Tom now, Ma,' he always tells me."

"Here, take my jacket," he said, slipping off his wool coat and placing it over her shoulders.

"Oh, I'm fine," she protested.

"Please, there's a chill in the air."

They locked eyes and for a moment Dorothy thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he politely took her hand and squeezed it.

"Come, the café is still open," he murmured. "Let's warm up with some hot tea."

Dorothy knocked on the clinic door, clutching her shawl around her shoulders and a handkerchief in one hand.

Michaela opened the door. "Oh, good afternoon, Dorothy," she said cheerfully.

"Afternoon, Michaela," she said. She glanced at the bassinette where Eliza was sleeping. "How's the baby doing?"

Michaela followed her gaze and burst into a proud smile. "Much better. She's gaining weight a pound a day it seems like."

"That's good to hear."

Michaela eyed her curiously. "Is there something I can do for you or did you just come by to visit?"

"Oh. No. Well, I mean, I got this little cough for a couple days now." She raised her handkerchief to her mouth and coughed dryly in demonstration.

"Oh? Come in and let's take a look." She guided her to the examination table and helped her up, then found a tongue depressor and peered down her throat. Then she took out her stethoscope and listened to her lungs pensively.

"It's not serious is it?" Dorothy asked.

Michaela put her stethoscope aside. "No, I don't think so. Let me just give you some medicine. That should help." She walked to her cabinet in search of some cough syrup. "Ah, here it is." She returned to the examination table. "Take this mornings and evenings until it clears up."

"Thank you, Michaela. What's that come to?"

"Ten cents for the medicine."

Dorothy opened her purse and handed her a coin.

Michaela walked to her desk and put the coin in her moneybox in the drawer. She looked up to find Dorothy still sitting on the table, looking very troubled.

"Dorothy? Is something else wrong?"

"No," she blurted. She sighed. "Michaela, Sully's father and I, we've been taking these walks at night."

Michaela looked at her in confusion. "Walks? At night?"

"Yes."

"What for?"

"What for? Just to walk."

Michaela slowly smiled. "Oh, that sort of walk."

"And I think he's…he's grown fond of me," she stammered.

"Oh, really? I had no idea."

Dorothy looked at her apprehensively. "What do you think? I mean, is it all right?"

She shrugged. "I think it's fine. I adore William. I think it's nice you've become friends."

She got down from the table. "Michaela, the truth is I sometimes feel like I failed at my family, too."

"Dorothy, that's ridiculous. You can't blame yourself for the problems Marcus had."

"Not just Marcus. I feel like I let down Tommy and the girls, too. I haven't seen any of them in ages."

"Well, children grow up and become very busy with their own things," Michaela said helplessly.

"Point is I understand William. I'm not sayin' he hasn't made some mistakes in his past. But we understand each other."

"I'm glad. William needs friends right now," Michaela said.

"I have to get back to the Gazette. Thank you, Michaela."

She smiled. "Certainly."

"I didn't know they'd been walking together, did you?" Michaela asked as Sully drove her and the children home.

"No," Sully replied quietly.

She smiled. "Dorothy's so shy about the whole thing. I was always coming to her for advice about such matters. I can't believe now she's coming to me."

Sully gave the reins a light slap and looked out at the road solemnly.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothin'," he muttered.

"Is something wrong at work?" she pressed.

"No," he replied.

"Then what?"

He sighed. Michaela never could let him get away with not telling her everything that was on his mind when she decided she wanted to know. "Just don't know about William courtin' Dorothy, that's all."

"What's wrong with it?" she demanded. "I think they make a nice couple. Besides, they're not really courting. They just enjoy walking together."

"She sure she know what she's gettin' into?" he replied.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." She shook her head. "Sully, why do you have so resentful about everything? They're just going for walks."

"We don't know him," he said firmly. "We know nothin' about him except that he took off on my ma and her two little boys. He abandoned us."

"Shh," she scolded, glancing back at the children. They were riding quietly holding their schoolbooks, and she wasn't sure if they were listening to their conversation.

"Dorothy wants to get involved with a man like that, she can if she wants. Just wouldn't be surprised if he did the same to her."

"I think that's unfair and spiteful," she immediately replied. "I've never known you to be like this."

"I never known you to be like this," he retorted.

If the children weren't listening before they were now. All three of them stared at Michaela and Sully curiously.

"Like what?" Michaela exclaimed.

"Not caring what I been through, what he put me through," he said, swallowing hard.

"That's absurd. Of course I care. Sully, please don't tell me I don't care about you and how you feel."

"You seem a lot more interested in two of 'em gettin' together."

She sighed impatiently. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you would have any objection to it. Next time I'll ask you first."

He gave the reins a hard slap and the horse whinnied. "Just forget I ever said anything."

"Good, I will," she replied. She gazed at him angrily for a moment, then looked back at the children. The boys were staring at her disconcertedly and Katie especially seemed very taken aback by their quarrel. "Children, um, what did you do in school today?" she asked softly.

Sully silently dried the last few cups and handed them to Elizabeth to put away.

"I'm real tired," he spoke at last. "I think I'll head on to bed. Gotta be up early again tomorrow."

Michaela glanced at him worriedly. They had barely spoken all evening. But now wasn’t the time to try to patch things up in front of Elizabeth and the children. "All right. Sleep well," Michaela said.

He put his towel aside, hugged the children in the dining room and then headed upstairs.

Elizabeth stacked the cups and listened for the bedroom door to shut. As soon as she heard it she looked square at Michaela crossly.

"All right, what on earth is going on between you two?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Nothing. What are you talking about?" Michaela said innocently as she drained the sink of sudsy water.

"Oh, spare me," Elizabeth said. "I know something is going on. Now tell me."

"Mama," Byron called.

"We had a little disagreement if you must know," Michaela said. "But nothing serious. Now if you don't mind I'd like to spend some time with the children. I haven't seen them all day." She walked into the dining room where the children were gathered around the chess board.

"We set it all up," Byron said. "We're ready for our lesson."

"Good, let's begin, shall we?" Michaela said with a smile as she took a seat. "Red Eagle, why don't you show me a good opening move."

Red Eagle absently moved one of the middle pawns to the center of the board.

"Very good," she said. "Now I'm going to do the same thing with my pawn." She moved it out. "Now, what would you do next?"

Red Eagle stared at the board, resting his head on his hand.

"I know what I would do," Byron spoke up.

"Shh, it's his turn," Katie scolded.

Michaela put her arm around Byron. "You help Mama plan her next move."

"Go, Red Eagle," Byron said. "It's your turn."

"I don't know. I guess this one," he said, moving the last pawn on the far right of the board out.

Michaela glanced at him with surprise. Red Eagle was never so careless as to touch his outside pawns in the beginning of the game. Clearly he wasn't paying attention.

"Are you sure?" she murmured.

"That's not really a good move," Byron said. "A better one is your knight. Right, Mama?"

"Yes, I think so," she said. "I'll move my knight next."

"Mama, what does abandoned mean?" Red Eagle asked suddenly.

She started and slowly put her knight in the center of the board. "Oh. Where did you hear that?" she asked casually.

"Papa said Gran'pa abandoned him," he replied.

"It means he left," Katie whispered.

"Well, we…we don't know exactly what happened," Michaela stammered.

"Why would you leave your kids?" Byron asked. "Was Papa bad?"

"No, of course not," Michaela said. "Of course not. Papas sometimes leave for lots of reasons. Grandpa said…well, he had to go away to work because the crops he was raising didn't do very well."

"Papa sometimes has to go away to work," Katie remarked astutely. "Would he leave?"

"Would Papa leave us?" Byron whispered.

She kissed his head. "No," she replied. "No, never."

"How do you know?" Katie asked.

Michaela wasn't sure how to answer. After quarreling with Sully that afternoon, nothing out of her mouth was sounding very convincing. "Well, I just know. I know."

The children didn't seem very reassured, but they dropped the subject for now.

"Can I do a different move?" Red Eagle asked. "I want to move my knight instead."

Michaela nodded with relief. "Yes, good. Go ahead."

Myra opened the swinging doors of the Gold Nugget and walked inside, finding Hank at the bar smoking a cigar and nursing a whiskey. A few men were playing cards and a young prostitute was refilling their shot glasses.

"Hank," she called.

"Myra." He perked up. "You wouldn’t be interested in filling in tonight, would ya? One of my best girls is sick."

"Please don't joke right now, Hank. We need to talk."

"Who said I was jokin'?"

She put the cameo on the counter. "Hank, this is all real flattering. But I need to tell you something important." She took a deep breath. "I'm engaged, Hank. I'm engaged to a wonderful man back in St. Louis and I'm very happy and can't wait until our wedding in the fall."

He raised his glass. "Congratulations. Can't say as I'm all that surprised. I knew you'd win somebody's heart again sooner rather than later."

"The flowers have to stop, Hank," she said. "And the chocolates. And the gifts. And I hope Loren'll give you back your money on this cameo."

She pushed it toward him. Hank picked it up and held it to the light, brushing it off with his thumb. "That's pretty. Good choice." He put it back on the counter.

She heaved a sigh. "Hank, you're…you're making me feel…I don't know. Confused. And I don't appreciate it. So if you could please stop I'd be real grateful." She gazed up at him nostalgically. "Truth is, guess a part of me is always gonna feel something special for you. We been through a lot together. But you know as well as me we could never make it work. It's time now I moved on. From you, Horace, everything. And you should move on, too." She pushed the cameo toward him again. "So please just take it back and we'll forget this ever happened."

He took a sip of whiskey. "Myra, I didn't get you that cameo. I never seen it before in my life. I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"You don't?" she blurted. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Unless I'm drunker than I think I am."

"You mean you never sent the flowers either? Or the chocolates?"

"Nope." He took a puff of his cigar.

"Hank, why did you let me carry on like this then? Why didn't you stop me?!"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It was kinda nice hearin' ya talk."

"Then who coulda sent them?" she asked, shaking her head. "No, it couldn't have been Horace."

"Sounds like you got yourself a secret admirer. I could try to track him down for ya if ya want."

"No thank you, Hank," she said. "I can handle this myself." She picked up the cameo. "I'll see you around town."

"Myra," he called as she headed toward the door. "Stop by anytime. It was good talkin' to ya."

She paused and gave him a soft smile, then pushed opened the swinging doors and walked out.

Sully opened the front door and hung up his jacket. He found Michaela in the kitchen, cleaning up. The baby was dozing in the sling around her shoulders.

"Sorry I'm so late," he said, walking into the kitchen. "We wanted to finish up the roof today."

"That's fine," she replied, heading to the stove. "Are you hungry? I can warm you up some leftovers."

"I'm all right. We got supper at Grace's." He walked to the basin and filled it with water from the pitcher. Then he took off his shirt and balled it up, rubbing water on his sweaty chest and sighing tiredly. "Kids in bed?"

"Yes, for awhile now." She gazed at him a long moment. "Sully, I'm sorry we fought," she said at last.

"I'm sorry, Michaela," he said at the same time.

They shared a soft smile and he stepped forward and hugged her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"Me, too." She pulled back and looked into his eyes wryly. "Wash up. You smell like work."

He gave her cheek a soft, playful kiss, and then headed back to the basin.

Michaela finished wiping down the counters as she watched him clean up. He was so tan and muscular, his strong, firm chest and back glistening with water as he washed away another hard day's worth of sweat and dust. She suddenly felt her heart flutter and her breath catch. She had certainly not expected to feel ready for any kind of romance so soon. She had always found new motherhood exhausting. It took her quite awhile after giving birth to be interested in anything other than caring for the baby, and Sully clearly wasn't expecting anything anytime soon. But tonight she suddenly found herself wanting to be near him and feel his touch. Just as she was trying to decide how to let Sully know what was on her mind without completely embarrassing herself, he spun around and walked toward her, reaching into the sling and lifting the baby out.

"Hey, baby girl. Ya have a good day?" He held her against him and the baby made a few soft sounds of content and opened her eyes briefly as she settled against her father's warm chest.

"She just had a good feeding," Michaela said.

"Good, she's got a nice full belly," he said with a smile. "Maybe she'll sleep awhile tonight."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Yes, that would be good. Um, are you tired? Perhaps we should go to bed now."

He smiled down at the baby. "You go on up. Think I just wanna hold her awhile. Feel like I ain't seen her in days." He held the baby over his head and brought her down to kiss her forehead. "Mm, I missed ya, Eliza girl."

"All right, I'll just go on up," she said, untying her apron and heading for the stairs.

"I'll be there in a minute," he replied, gently rocking the baby.

"Don't be long," she added softly.

Sully met her eyes, hearing something faintly amorous in her voice. He watched her head upstairs, certain that he was misinterpreting her. After all, they were both so tired with a new baby in the house that usually they just wanted to sleep when they went to bed. He paced with the baby in front of the fire for a few minutes, relishing the quiet moment with her, and then he headed upstairs to the bedroom.

He stopped short in the doorway. Michaela was standing in front of her long mirror, tying the last few laces of the expensive lingerie Elizabeth had given her as a wedding present. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen it. It was impractical to say the least, very rich and elaborate, and he knew Michaela sometimes felt a little silly in it. But he always thought the garment was beautiful and truly loved when Michaela wore pretty lingerie, and so occasionally, though very rarely, she would put aside her shyness and get it out for him. She slowly turned to face him, lips set in a soft grin.

"Now that I have my body back somewhat, I thought I could wear this again," she whispered. "It still fits."

"Yeah, it does." He swallowed hard. "I'll just, uh, I'll put her in her bed. Her crib." He quickly tucked the baby in the crib and covered her.

Michaela came up behind him and wrapped one arm around his waist, kissing his shoulder and boldly flickering her tongue against his skin.

"You're so strong," she whispered, running her hand up his firm bicep.

He slowly turned around and she directed her attention to his chest and planted some more kisses across it.

"Michaela, maybe ya shouldn’t get my hopes up," he protested softly.

"Why not?" She glanced up at him with a soft smile and kissed his chest again.

"Ya sure you're up to this? Ya ain't tired?" he asked.

"I'm not tired. I had a long nap today. Mother looked after the baby for me." She wrapped her arms around his back and stood on tiptoe to kiss his neck and down his jaw.

"Hey," he whispered, gently smoothing back her hair.

She pulled back and looked up at him inquisitively.

"Ya look beautiful. I like ya in this," he whispered, fingering the lace.

She smiled and pressed her lips to his in an ardent kiss as he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed. He kissed her lips as he unlaced her pantaloons and slid them down her thighs.

"Sully, wait," she whispered. "Let me dim the lamp."

"No, don't dim it," he protested softly.

"No, I can't relax with the lamp on. It's too bright."

"It ain't that bright. Sides, I can't see ya without it."

"I know. That's all right." She reached for the lamp and turned it down

He sighed a little impatiently. Michaela hadn't cared whether the lamp was shining in ages. Not since they were first married and she was so misinformed she thought making love was best done under the covers, late at night in total darkness. He had quickly broken her of that habit. He didn't mind turning the lights off sometimes. But he liked making love bathed in full light, too, when he could clearly see Michaela's body and watch the expressions of pleasure across her face and know for certain whether she was enjoying herself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, sensing his disappointment.

He gave her a soft kiss. "It's all right. Just don't be mad if my aim's a little off."

"Sully," she scolded, but he could tell she was reassured by him making light of it.

He smiled at her lovingly, then began tenderly kissing and suckling and stroking her most intimate places. He felt her fingers running through his hair and drawing him all the closer as she sighed with pleasure and whispered a few soft, encouraging words. Pleased with himself, he stroked her belly and continued his ministrations. He hadn't realized how much he had missed their physical relationship until now, and he was pleasantly surprised that Michaela seemed ready for all this so soon. He found her hand and held it firmly in his as they both became more and more aroused by their closeness.

Michaela suddenly felt anxious when Sully started to work at stripping off the tight-fitting bodice of the lingerie. He slipped it over her head and then eagerly kissed her breasts while he stroked her back. She held onto his shoulders and tried to relax and enjoy it. She had wanted to make love, felt ready again, but was consumed by a variety of fears she couldn't even explain. Foremost she was terribly self-conscious about her body. She worried Sully might be bothered by her thickened waist and the row of stretch marks along her abdomen that had appeared during this pregnancy and didn't seem to want to fade. And as much as Sully seemed to appreciate the way her breasts had swelled, they too had developed some stretch marks, and she found them awkward and at the moment had trouble seeing them as anything more than mere instruments to feed the baby. Certainly not something anyone should find all that appealing. Perhaps Sully was missing the more girlish figure she used to have when they first married, before her pregnancies.

Sully paused a moment and gazed into her eyes. "You all right?" he whispered, panting softly.

She swallowed hard and nodded. "Hm-hm."

He resumed kissing her, planting wet kisses on her neck and down her arms. She knew he would just as soon hurry this part of the process along, but he was taking his time for her sake, so she would feel as ready as he was. Only she couldn't seem to bring herself there no matter how hard she tried.

"Don't be so nervous," Sully murmured, sensing her thoughts.

"I'm not nervous," she protested.

He cuddled up across her and held her face in his hands. "Yes ya are." He gave her cheeks a few more soft kisses.

"It's just, Sully, don't you think I'm-"

"Perfect? Yeah," he replied with a smile. He ran his hand down to caress her belly. "You're beautiful."

She felt reassured by his tender, sincere gaze. She smiled softly in reply and caressed his hair, deciding that her fears were unfounded. Sully loved her and she would get her body back soon enough.

"Ya ready?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

"Ya sure? Cause we can kiss an' hold some more. I don't mind."

"No, I'm ready," she replied. "Very ready."

"Good," he said with a pleased smile.

She had prepared herself for it to be different, but she hadn't expected pain. She winced and cried out, and Sully mistook that for sounds of pleasure. He closed his eyes and moved his hips rapidly, sighing himself.

"Sully," she protested softly.

"What?" he whispered.

She bit her lip bravely and gripped his shoulders. "Nothing. Go slower, all right?"

He kissed the tip of her nose and then her lips. "Yeah, sure. We'll go slow." He moved more slowly but very deeply, and the pain didn't go away like Michaela hoped. If anything it was getting worse. It suddenly felt sharp, and she panicked.

"Sully. Stop. Don't. Stop, stop!"

"What's wrong?" he murmured

"I don't know. Just stop!" she cried, pushing on his chest. "It hurts!"

He immediately withdrew and caressed her face. "What happened? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You all right?"

She looked down in a panic, eyes welling with tears. "Oh, that hurt. It felt like something tore. Am I bleeding?"

He glanced down and soothingly stroked her thigh. "No, you're all right. You ain't bleedin'." She burst into tears and he immediately drew her into his arms. "Michaela, I'm sorry. Did I hurt ya? I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Sully. I can't. It was just unbearable," she stammered.

"That's all right. That's all right. Think maybe we took this a little too soon? What's it been, three weeks?"

She rubbed at her tears with the back of her hand. "Three and a half."

"We'll just wait a little longer, try again," he said reassuringly. "It'll be all right."

"Maybe it was too soon," she murmured. "But I felt so ready."

"Your body's just been through an awful lot havin' a baby," he replied. "Makes sense it's gonna take some time."

She was so touched by how understanding he was. He didn't make her feel like he was annoyed or even the least bit impatient with her for abruptly cutting short everything. He just wanted her to feel better. He gave her another tight hug and kissed her hair. "I'm sorry that didn't feel good. Didn't mean to hurt ya."

"I'm sorry," she whispered back.

"Shh, it's all right," he replied, lovingly stroking her hair. "Here, let's just hold each other, huh? That don't hurt, does it?"

She smiled softly and gave his lips a gentle peck. "Thank you."

He caressed her cheek. "You're welcome."

Sully took his bank draft from Horace, thanked him and then headed down the street for Preston's. He didn't prefer that Preston be the one to give him his cash for his hard work all week, but the railroad didn't pay in cash. Horace was required to give the men a bank draft that they could take to any bank.

"I'm closing up, Sully," Preston said as he turned the dial on his safe. "Bank hours."

Sully approached the counter and put the draft on the counter. "Was hopin' you could cash this for me first."

"Oh. I suppose," he said grudgingly. He walked to his counter and took the draft, then opened his safe and counted out several bills and a few coins. "So, I hear your father's in town. I never knew you had relatives."

Sully eyed him impatiently. "Well, I do."

"Why did he leave in the first place?"

Sully narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to the counter. "How'd you know about that?"

Preston blinked. "Word travels fast." He put the money on the counter and slid it forward. "Here you are," he said. "You can count it."

"I trust ya," Sully said, putting the money in his jacket pocket.

Preston grabbed his briefcase and walked out to the waiting room. "What was it, another woman? It's always another woman. Men never leave unless there's another woman."

"Why don't you just stay out of this, Preston," Sully replied.

Preston chuckled. "So there was someone else. Your mother couldn't keep him in line, could she?"

Sully impulsively grabbed his collar and shoved him hard against the door.

Preston grabbed Sully's arms and dropped his briefcase. "Sully, wait," he stammered.

"Ya ever say anything else about my ma you'll pay," Sully said vehemently. He shook him. "You understand?"

Preston managed a nod.

Sully released him, then grabbed the door and opened it, shutting it firmly behind him.

Michaela was locking up the clinic, the baby in her sling and her medical bag in hand, when Preston walked over swiftly, rubbing his neck.

"Oh, good afternoon, Preston," she said as she put her keys in her purse.

"Michaela." He eyed her severely.

She cleared her throat. "Is something wrong? Are you ill?"

"Yes, something's wrong. Tell your husband if he ever does that again I'm pressing charges for assault. I'll see him thrown in jail."

Her face fell. "What on earth are you talking about? What happened?"

"You can ask him that," he retorted. He spun around and headed back to his bank.

"Oh, that pattern's just awful, Brian," Sarah said as they leaned over the store counter and browsed a catalogue. "How can you like that?"

"They all look the same to me," he replied, flipping a page. "I think we should just pick one."

"Just pick one! Oh, Brian. Pretty dishware is what makes your house a home. This is a very important decision that could affect us the rest of our lives."

He raised his eyebrows. "If you say so. I care a lot more about the food on my plate than what the plate looks like myself."

Loren chuckled quietly and continued stacking some cans on a nearby shelf.

She pouted. "Now you're making fun of me. And I don't appreciate it."

"I'm sorry. I'm not makin' fun," he said, touching her back and giving her a kiss. "You pick out whatever dishes you think are gonna be best. I'll leave it up to you."

She beamed. "Oh, Brian. Really?"

"Whatever ya want," he said, rubbing her back.

"Let's see," Sarah said, smiling as she flipped through the catalogue. "I like the Wedgwood like your ma's. Simple. Traditional. But I don't know, that rose pattern is pretty, too."

Loren approached the counter. "If you two spend this long on just orderin' dishes you're never gonna have that house ready in time for your weddin'."

"Sorry, Mr. Bray. We'll take the Wedgewood," Sarah said, pointing at the catalogue. "Can you order it for us?"

He pulled the catalogue toward him. "Sure thing. It'll take a couple weeks though."

"That's all right. We have time. Thank you." She grasped Brian's hand and they headed out the door and walked to his wagon. Just then William opened the boarding house door.

"Oh, there's Gran'pa," Brian said. He waved at him and William waved back.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sully," Sarah said. She approached him and clutched his shoulders, giving his cheek a kiss.

"Oh, my," he said with a smile. "Good afternoon, lassie. And you should call me William. Or Grandpa. After all, you're marrying my grandson."

She smiled back. "Grandpa. I’d like that."

"How are the wedding plans coming along?" William asked.

"There's sure a lot to do," Brian said. "Sorry, we can't really talk. We gotta head over to talk to the Reverend. Again."

"Now don't sulk, Brian," Sarah said. "You know the marriage counseling is a good thing. It's helping us."

"Yes, you should go, son," William said. "I wish they had that sort of thing when I was your age."

"Yeah, I guess it's a good idea," Brian said as he lifted Sarah into the wagon. "We'll see ya later, Gran'pa." He climbed up and gathered the reins, giving them a slap. "G'up."

Sarah glanced back at William a moment. "Brian, we never really invited your gran'pa to the wedding. We should send him an invitation. Even if he can't come, he should be invited."

"Yeah, he should," he said. He hesitated a moment. "Don't know how my pa's gonna feel about that though."

"Oh, right," she murmured. "Well, let's ask your pa then. Tonight."

"All right. Sure." He smiled at her and gave her a playful kiss. "Come on. Let's head over there and get this over with."

"It was nothin'," Sully said as he washed up after doing the chores.

"He'll have you arrested and thrown in jail was nothing?" Michaela retorted as she took down a stack of plates for supper. "What did you say to him to make him react like that?"

"Wasn't what I said. It was what he said."

"Then what did he say?"

The children listened to the conversation attentively from the dining room where they were finishing their homework with Elizabeth's help.

"Children, do your reading," Elizabeth instructed. She was rocking the baby gently as Eliza dozed.

"Just don't worry about it, all right?" Sully replied as he dried himself off with a towel.

"No, we're not letting this go just like that. I want to know what happened. Did you make some sort of threat? Sully, how could you do that?"

He folded his arms. "So because he and Claudette got something' goin' on between them now we gotta be nice to him after the way he tried to foreclose on our homestead?"

"Claudette has nothing to do with it. And those problems with our loan were ages ago. I just don't think we should go around threatening people, Preston or not."

He slammed the towel down on the counter. "He was talkin' about my ma, is that what ya wanna know? Implied she wasn't all she could be in a wife."

She quieted a moment. "Oh," she murmured at last. She opened the drawer and took out some silverware. "Well, you could have at least politely asked him to stop."

"Polite and Preston don't mix," he replied.

Brian opened the door, holding Sarah's hand. "Hey, everybody," he said cheerfully as he hung up his hat.

The children didn't jump up to greet him as they usually did. Red Eagle gave Sarah a little wave and Byron and Katie just looked at them solemnly.

"Brian, Sarah," Michaela said hoarsely as she stepped toward them. "Oh. What are you doing here?"

Brian blinked. "You said I should bring Sarah over for supper, remember?"

"Oh. Oh, that's right. I'm sorry, I forgot."

"Is this a bad night?" Sarah spoke up awkwardly. "We can go get somethin' at the café instead."

"No, of course not," Michaela said. "I'll just put out two more plates."

Sully walked silently past Michaela and headed outside, not saying a word to anyone. She watched him go, then sighed and walked back to the stove to check on the roast in the oven.

"It's called a groom's cake," Sarah explained as she finished eating her pie. "Everybody down South does it."

"I get a cake just for me?" Brian asked skeptically.

"Oh, yes, I've heard about that tradition," Elizabeth remarked. "I think it's rather sweet, don't you, Michaela?"

"Yes, I like that. That's lovely."

"Sweet? Lovely?" Brian blurted, glancing at Sully.

"He don't really need that, does he?" Sully spoke up helpfully, taking a sip of coffee. "They'll be plenty of cake to go around."

"I think the more cake the better," Byron spoke up, and everyone laughed. He drank the last of his milk. "What? We're gonna need lots of cake."

Michaela patted his hand. "Yes, you're probably right, sweetheart. It's getting late. You should head up to bed. All of you."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied as Katie and Red Eagle got up and cleared their plates.

"Goodnight," Sarah said.

"Night, Sarah," Katie said.

"Night, everybody," Red Eagle added.

"Brush your teeth. I'll tuck you in in a minute," Michaela said.

"Have you finished your guest list yet?" Elizabeth asked, stirring her coffee.

"Yep, invitations went in the mail awhile back," Brian said. He cleared his throat and Sarah grasped his hand, giving him an encouraging nod. "Uh, Pa, me and Sarah been thinkin'."

Sully glanced up curiously. "'Bout what?"

"We thought we'd like to invite William to the weddin'. Add him to the guest list."

Sully avoided his eyes and took a sip of coffee. "William'll be back in St. Louis by then, Brian."

"Just the same we thought it'd be nice we give him an invitation, let him know we want him there," he replied.

"He's such a kind old man," Sarah added.

"Well, I think that's very thoughtful of the two of you," Elizabeth said. "I think it's only right he be invited."

"It's nice you want to include him," Michaela added softly.

Sully glanced at Michaela impatiently.

"But, only if it's all right with you," Brian said, looking at Sully nervously.

"If you're askin' my permission I ain't givin' it," Sully said firmly.

"Sully, they ought to invite him," Elizabeth scolded. "He is his grandfather."

"And I ain't gonna have him spoilin' my son's weddin'," Sully replied.

"Spoiling it for Brian, or for you?" Elizabeth demanded.

Brian cleared his throat. "Well, I just thought maybe the two of you could put aside your differences for the day. Thought maybe this could work."

"Differences? That what you call this?" He stood up.

"I don’t think he's asking a lot, Sully," Michaela spoke up. "He's right, it's just for one day."

"You got a right to invite who ya want to your weddin'. But I ain't gonna approve of it," Sully said, heading swiftly for the door and heading outside.

Elizabeth heaved a sigh. "Honestly."

Sarah rested her hands in her lap timidly. "I'm sorry, Dr. Mike. I didn't know."

"No, it's all right. You were doing the right thing."

Brian patted her back. "Let me drive ya home, Sarah."

Sarah stood and Brian helped her with her shawl.

"Thanks for supper, Dr. Mike." She leaned forward and kissed Michaela's cheek. "Goodnight."

Michaela squeezed her arm. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Drive carefully."

Michaela kissed Red Eagle and held him close. "Big hug," she whispered unsteadily.

The children seemed to realize she was upset about something, and had been especially affectionate when she came up and tucked them in, as if trying to cheer her up.

"Hug me again. Hug me," Byron called, holding out his arms.

Michaela got up and sat on his bed, holding Byron just as close. "I love you, monkey. Sweet dreams."

"I love you. I want Papa to tuck us in, too."

"Yeah, I want Papa," Red Eagle added.

"No, just Mama tonight."

"No, Papa, too," Byron insisted. "Papa, too."

"Byron, no," she said more firmly. "Go to sleep, boys." She got up and blew out their lamp, then headed to Katie's room.

The little girl was curled up on her side, clutching her stuffed bear.

"You didn't get our book out. Don’t you want to read a chapter together?" Michaela asked, sitting on the bed.

"No, not tonight," Katie whispered.

Michaela crouched down and kissed her forehead. "All right. Sweet dreams."

"Mama?" Katie whispered. She looked up at her hesitantly. She wanted to ask if what had happened to Samantha's mother and father could ever happen to her own parents, but was too afraid of the answer.

"Yes?" Michaela prompted.

Katie bit her lip, quickly scrambling to come up with something else to ask. "Could you braid my hair tomorrow morning?"

Michaela eyed her skeptically for a moment. "Yes, of course." She hugged the little girl tightly. "I love you. So much."

"I love you, Mommy," Katie whispered, quickly wiping away a small tear that had fallen down her cheek.

"It's Brian's wedding and I think Sully has no right to do this to him," Michaela said impatiently as she handed Elizabeth a dish to dry.

"Well, I hate to see it all drawn out like this," Elizabeth admitted.

"Sully's had to forgive a lot of people in his life. He's always found a way to make peace before. I don't know why he won't now."

She stacked the dish on the counter. "It's just not that simple. He blames William for his mother's death. It's obvious. What he needs to realize is that his mother wasn't perfect either. We'll never really know if William could have made a difference in what happened to her. Ultimately she made the choice to end her life, and unfortunately those left behind must live with that."

Michaela wiped her hands on a dishtowel. "If this were Father, if he made a mistake that caused us to suffer and then later asked for forgiveness, we would give him that. We would welcome him back."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

"What? What do you mean?"

"As much as you adored your Father, there were a few times when he did disappoint. He was only human, Michaela."

"Father never disappointed me, Mother. He was everything a child could ask for in a parent."

"That's not how you felt one spring day when he told us he was leaving for Europe."

"Europe?"

"Yes, and as I recall you vowed never to forgive him, and meant it."

"Those poor, poor people," Michaela remarked as she cut into her beef tenderloin. "Can you imagine, Father? Everything you've ever worked for gone."

"Yes, it's terrible," he replied.

"Well, I don't know what we're supposed to do about it," Claudette remarked. "Just let them all come here? I should think not."

"They let our grandparents immigrate here. Why, we wouldn’t even be in Boston otherwise," Michaela replied. "I don't see why we shouldn't allow in everyone in Ireland who wishes to come."

"Oh, Michaela, you're so daft, so stupid! It'd be a logistical nightmare!" Marjorie exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

"Daft! Stupid!" Michaela exclaimed. "You take that back, Marjorie Quinn!"

Rebecca and Maureen had married and moved away some time ago, but Claudette and Marjorie weren't quite old enough to be married just yet, though both of them were courting eligible young men who lived near Beacon Hill who more than exceeded their mother's expectations. But age had not matured them much in Michaela's eyes. At times she couldn't wait for her red-headed sisters to move out. They still tortured her at every opportunity, and tonight was no exception.

"I don't have to take anything back if I don't want to," Marjorie retorted.

"Yes you do!" Michaela replied. "Father, Mother, make her take that back!"

"Michaela, lower your voice," Elizabeth said automatically. "There's no use quarrelling over this. Immigration is up to the politicians, not fourteen-year-old young ladies."

"Why must we talk of such unpleasantness at the supper table?" Claudette demanded. "I'm losing my appetite."

"Get your elbow off the table, Michaela," Elizabeth scolded, pointing her fork at her. "And stop swinging your legs."

"Uh, she's such a tomboy," Marjorie griped.

Michaela removed her elbow from the lacy tablecloth and stilled her legs. Elizabeth had a sixth sense about manners. Somehow she always knew when Michaela was in violation of some rule of etiquette or another, whether she was watching her or not. At fourteen, Michaela was starting to look more like a woman and less like a little girl. Her voice was sounding much more mature, she had grown taller and thinner, and she was starting to develop breasts and a few curves. Her first monthly had just recently started as well. But she continued to make Elizabeth positively batty oftentimes, refusing to wear a corset, insisting on tagging along with Josef on all his house calls and to the hospital for his rounds, and still preferring to romp outside with the boys of Beacon Hill rather than sit by the fire and do needlepoint, drink tea and take piano lessons. Her boyish habits were really starting to worry Elizabeth, and she was forever correcting her youngest daughter.

"What do you think of all this, Father?" Michaela asked more quietly. "Should we allow all of Ireland to come to America?"

Josef rang the little bell beside his plate and Martha came scurrying in from the kitchen. "Some brandy, Martha. Please," he said.

"Father?" Michaela pressed.

"I'm not certain, Mike. But I have an announcement to make."

"Oh?" Elizabeth replied.

He patted his lips with his napkin and nervously put it back in his lap. "I've been corresponding lately with Dr. Auguste Nélaton. Or rather, he's been corresponding with me. He's a celebrated surgeon in Paris who works at St. Louis hospital in the city. He's been experimenting with a variety of new techniques."

"What sort of techniques?" Michaela asked inquisitively.

"Well, he has many brilliant ideas for repairing damaged arteries and veins. He's saved many lives. And he's looking for someone to assist him. He'd prefer an American."

"Oh, how exciting," Michaela replied. "I wonder who will apply? Think how much one could learn from someone like him!"

"As a matter of fact I applied myself. And today I received his letter of acceptance," Josef replied bluntly. Martha brought the brandy and filled a glass, and Josef took a swift swig.

Elizabeth and the girls stared at him in shock.

"Josef! You applied? Why on earth would you do that?" Elizabeth demanded suddenly.

"Elizabeth, it's a wonderful opportunity," he replied. "I could hone my skills, become even better at my craft."

"Paris! Oh, think of the shopping there!" Claudette gasped.

"You're not coming, Claudette," Josef said. "None of you are. I’m not going to drag my family all the way to Paris. It's just a one-year residency. I'll try to come home for a few weeks during the Christmas holiday."

"Just a year?! What about your practice?" Michaela demanded. "All your patients. Father, they need you!"

Elizabeth resumed eating her meal. She had expressed her disapproval, and that was all she would do. Ultimately whatever Josef did was his decision.

"My patients will be waiting for me when I get back. And using what I learn from Dr. Nélaton I could help them all the better."

Michaela shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks. "But what about….what about me? Father, you're teaching me so much about medicine. I'm learning new things every day. What will I do without you?"

"I'll make arrangements for you to study under one of my colleagues, Mike," Josef said desperately.

"No one will want her studying under them," Marjorie pointed out cuttingly.

"Marjorie," Elizabeth scolded gently.

"Well, it's true," she replied. "She's still not a boy, though it's hard to tell these days."

"Father, don't do this," Michaela pleaded. "Please, you can't." Anger suddenly flickered in her eyes and she stood up. "How could you be so selfish?! How could you just abandon Mother and your daughters and all your patients for some famous surgeon a thousand miles away! I hate you for this!" She spun around and stormed up to her room.

"Michaela!" Elizabeth called firmly. "Michaela, come back down here and apologize this instant! How dare you speak to your father that way!"

"Elizabeth," Josef said, holding up one hand to stop her. "It's all right. I deserved it." He finished the rest of his brandy, then abruptly stood up. "I need my pipe," he muttered.

Josef rapped lightly on Michaela's door.

"Go away," Michaela said, her face buried in her pillow as she sobbed into it.

"Mike? It's your papa. Please let me come in and speak with you." He paused a moment. "Martha made you some tea with honey. I know how you like that." He slowly opened the door, holding a tea cup.

"Oh, Mike," he murmured, walking to her bedside and putting the cup on the nightstand. "Oh, I never intended you'd be so upset."

She sat up and threw her arms around him, sobbing onto his shoulder. "Oh, Papa," she cried. "What will I do without you for an entire year?"

"A year must seem like such a long time to someone as young as you," he admitted, patting her back. "I supposed I'd forgotten that." He took out his handkerchief and dabbed at her tears.

"It's forever," Michaela whimpered. "I feel like I'm never going to see you again."

"Nonsense. I'll come home before you know it with lots of new ideas and techniques to share with you. Doesn't that sound lovely? Why, I'll even send you the books I'll be studying over there. Don't tell your mother."

She slowly pulled back, gazing into his sad blue eyes. "Father? Are you and Mother…is there something wrong?"

He sighed. "You're as shrewd as ever, my Mike," he whispered.

She sniffled. "Then there is something wrong."

Michaela was well aware her parents had had a rocky marriage in recent years. She had always felt for certain that they cared for each other, but she knew how much Elizabeth hated the way Josef encouraged their youngest daughter's love of science and medicine, allowing her to study alongside him when Elizabeth would have preferred she be learning how to be a respectable lady who could find a good husband the family could be proud of. It all seemed so pointless, she had heard Elizabeth tell him on many occasions, for Michaela was destined to court, marry, and have children like her older sisters and every other young woman of Beacon Hill. She couldn't possibly work alongside her father once she was married. No husband would ever allow it, it was as simple as that. What was he thinking filling her head with formulas and anatomy diagrams and other such nonsense?

Josef would always counter that times were changing, that Mike had a brilliant mind, and more importantly, a deep passion for her work, and that it was an absolute sin to let it go to waste, and that perhaps she was destined for an unconventional life and that there was nothing wrong with that. And so the argument would go on and on in an endless circle. Michaela often heard them quarrelling long into the night about matters pertaining to her.

"It's nothing you need to be concerned about, all right, Mike?" he said.

"Is it about me? You've had a falling out over me again?"

"Mike, please. Don't burden yourself. You take such responsibility for everything."

She narrowed her eyes. "So you're just going to leave us and run away across the ocean? Sounds awfully cowardly to me."

"Bite your tongue, young lady," he said firmly. "You may be my medical student, and a very capable one at that, but you're still my daughter."

She softened a little. "I'm sorry, Father."

He sat on her bed, gently taking her hand. "Let me explain something to you. You've been lucky in that you see your parents all the time. Some families, the fathers have to go far away to work and hardly ever see their children. Well, now I must do the same. But the good news is we know exactly when I'm coming back. So now I need you to be a brave girl, all right? Can you give me a little smile?"

She still thought he was running away from his troubles, but she kept quiet this time. She sighed and grinned ever so slightly.

"Good girl." He kissed her forehead. "It's very late. Drink your tea, get into your nightclothes and go to bed, all right? I'll send Harrison up to build you a nice fire for the night."

"Goodnight, Father," she murmured.

"Goodnight, Mike," he replied.

"My God, that child is perceptive," Josef remarked as he entered the master bedroom and walked to the fire, grabbing a poker and stirring the logs.

Elizabeth was sitting up in bed with a book, her hair in a long braid down her back and the covers tucked neatly up to her waist. "I hope she's finally stopped sobbing. She sounds positively pathetic when she does that."

"Yes, she's gone to bed."

"She's so dramatic and emotional at times. At least in one way she's all girl."

"Takes after her mother," he replied softly.

"Me? Emotional? I should think not," she said. Elizabeth prided herself on always keeping her composure, on not letting her guard down no matter how upsetting the situation might be. Truthfully she had no idea where Michaela had learned to be so weepy. Oftentimes, Elizabeth wondered if Michaela was even her daughter at all, they were so very different. She paused. "Though perhaps I am a bit dramatic when I want to be."

He chuckled softly and walked behind the screens to change into his nightclothes.

"Mike thinks my going away has to do with her. Because of you and I, our differences of opinion when it comes to her."

"Does it?" Elizabeth murmured.

"I think we'll still have our differences when I return," he replied softly. "Though I think this time apart may serve us well."

"Josef, all I'm saying is she's just gotten out of hand. It was fine when she was younger, but she's practically a woman now. You do realize all our friends think she's, well, peculiar. Different. They don't hesitate to tell me so every chance they get. It's become so humiliating."

He laid his trousers over the screens. "She is peculiar, Elizabeth. But in a wonderful way."

"In your opinion."

"She's just intelligent, Elizabeth, that's all. The most intelligent child I've ever met. She only seems strange to others because they're afraid of her."

She chuckled, flipping a page in her book. "You mean afraid for her."

He walked to the bed in his nightshift and got under the covers beside her. "You haven't said much about this, dear. What do you think of Paris?"

"I hear the food there is exquisite," she replied.

"Elizabeth," he scolded gently.

She closed her book. "All right, I don't want you to go. Is that what you want to hear? I too think you're running. As much as we may disagree when it comes to Michaela, you're her father and a father ought to be in his daughter's life. I think you're putting your pride and your career ahead of us." She took a deep breath. "I think if a man intends to leave his wife, he ought to do so straightforwardly, and not make excuses like this."

"Elizabeth, I'm not leaving you. I would never leave," he admonished.

"Well, that's what it feels like to me. And more importantly to Michaela."

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth," he murmured. "I never intended…"

She put her book aside. "I'm very tired. I really can't draw this out any longer. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Elizabeth," he whispered, gently squeezing her shoulder. "Goodnight, dear."

Michaela rested her head against one hand and leaned over a cardiology textbook of her father's. As much as she had positively pined for Josef since he left for Paris a month ago, her desire to study and educate herself as much as possible in preparation for medical school had not abated. If anything her love for all things medicine was only strengthening as the lonely weeks passed.

Elizabeth knocked on her open door. "Michaela? Won't you join me for tea in the parlor? Your sisters are all gone for the afternoon."

"I'm busy, Mother," she murmured.

"Surely you can stop just for a moment for some tea. Even your father would say so."

"I suppose. After I finish this chapter," she replied, turning a page.

"I heard from him today. Your father," Elizabeth remarked.

Michaela brightened and looked up at her. "You did? Why didn't you tell me? What did he say?"

"Well, he had some important news. He's leaving early. He's coming home on the next passenger vessel bound for Boston. He'll be here in two weeks."

She put her pen down. "I don't understand. He's not supposed to return until next summer. What about the residency?"

"He's quitting the residency. He apologized again and again for ever leaving." She cleared her throat and stepped closer to her. "If you'd like, I'll allow you to drive with Harrison down to the harbor and greet his ship when it arrives. If you promise to stay away from all the questionable characters down there."

Michaela's smile faded and she sulked a bit. "No."

"No?"

"I meant what I said. I'll never forgive him for what he did." She folded her arms crossly.

Elizabeth sighed. "Michaela, I know it's hard to believe, but your father is just a man. A man capable of making mistakes just like the rest of us. Don't be too hard on him, dear." She grasped her daughter's shoulder and gave her head a feather-light kiss. "Come downstairs. I miss your company when you lock yourself in your room with your books like this all the time."

Michaela smiled softly. As often as Elizabeth made her so angry she could scream, she still longed for her love and affection and approval. To hear that her mother missed her made her feel better. "All right, Mother. Let's have some tea."

Michaela sunk into a chair at the kitchen table. "I'd completely forgotten about that, Mother."

"Well, you were always able to look on the bright side. To forget the hard times easily."

She gazed out the window pensively for a moment. "Mother, could you stay here and watch the baby? I need to find Sully."

"Certainly," she replied. "Take as long as you need."