Chapter Twenty-one | Chapter Twenty-two | Chapter Twenty-three | Chapter Twenty-four | Chapter Twenty-five | more chapters
Chapter Twenty-one
Winter, 1878-1879
"Brian always loved decoratin' the tree," Grace remarked wistfully, giving him another bow. "Christmas just ain't gonna be the same this year without all of them."
Robert E. glanced at the clinic with a sigh. "We'll miss 'em, that's for sure."
"I don't think Christmas is gonna be the same for them either," Dorothy spoke up, joining the two with a basket of small white candles to put on the tree. "From the sound of Michaela's letters, they ain't gonna have much. They got hospital bills to pay off."
"Dr. Mike and Sully'll make it special for them somehow," Robert E. said reassuringly.
"That bow's crooked, Robert E.!" Jake called up, folding his arms.
"Looks fine to me," Grace said saucily.
"It's crooked," Jake insisted, picking up a basket brimming with velvet red bows. "And you ain't usin' enough of the red ones."
"Oh, Jake. The tree looks fine," Dorothy protested.
"I liked it better when Brian was in charge of the tree decoratin'," Grace said.
"Is that so," Jake said impatiently.
"I wish there was some way they could come home for Christmas," Dorothy said.
"Why can't they?" Robert E. asked. "Maybe we could all chip in and get 'em train tickets."
Hank strolled over from the saloon, puffing on a cigar, Loren following behind him.
"It's risky takin' a train through those mountains durin' the winter," Jake explained.
"Yes, I've read that, " Dorothy added. "Avalanches have blocked the tracks for weeks at a time. Folks have even been stranded. We wouldn't want them tryin' to take a train if it might get stuck."
"No, we wouldn't want that," Hank said, rubbing his belly with a mischievous grin. "Ever hear of the Donner Party?"
Loren grinned and elbowed Hank good-naturedly. "Yum, yum!"
"Hank, Loren. Please. That's nothin' to joke about!" Dorothy protested.
"Aw, Dorothy. Nothins gonna happen to 'em," Loren said.
"If they can't come back here, maybe we could send Christmas there," Grace said, tapping her chin pensively.
"Don't tell me ya mean to send 'em our tree," Hank said.
"No, but Grace may be on to something," Dorothy said. "We could all get together and mail them a parcel of gifts."
"That's a bad idea," Jake said, removing his hat. "Nobody's got money to send some big package to the middle of nowhere."
"I vote no," Hank spoke up.
"Me, too," Loren added. "It'll cost too much!"
"It wouldn't be that expensive, Loren," Dorothy said.
"Dr. Mike and Sully are important to this town and we've all been missin' 'em," Grace said, strolling over to Hank and Jake. "If it was all of us who were spendin' our Christmas without a soul around, they'd see to it we had a nice day. If we each got 'em somethin' small and put in a few coins to post it, that would be plenty."
"I agree with Grace," Dorothy said. "I think we should do it."
"You women and your fool ideas," Loren chastised. "And just how would ya let the town know you're doin' this? If you're thinkin' of callin' a council meetin' just about some package to California I ain't got time for that."
Dorothy smiled, walking over to him and clutching his arm. "Well, if the storekeeper were to post a sign about it in his window, everyone would know."
"I s'pose if the sign said ya don't have to take part if ya don't want to," Jake said, slowly relenting.
"Then it's settled," Grace said, clasping her hands beneath her chin and smiling up at Robert E.
"Wait a minute," Loren protested weakly. "I didn't agree to any sign in my store window. There's no room for that."
"I see plenty of room," Robert E. remarked, glancing down the street at the mercantile.
Dorothy grinned giddily. "I'll go print somethin' up, ask folks to bring their gifts to the store next Saturday. Michaela and Sully are gonna be so surprised!"
"Here you are, Sully," Harper said, handing him a small stack of bills. "Two weeks more pay." He pulled out his ledger, dipped his pen in the inkwell on his desk and made a few notes. "Both you and Thaddeus are looking good as new. Rest assured the moment I realized Andy and Silas were involved with the accident I dismissed them. They're long gone by now."
Sully nodded, slowly leafing through the bills. He had enough for the next hospital payment and the necessary daily family expenses, with about six dollars left over. It was hardly the amount he had originally planned to have for Christmas presents.
"What's wrong? Have I counted wrong?" Harper asked, pushing out his chair and standing up.
"No, it's fine," Sully quickly said, tucking the money in his jacket pocket. "Thank you."
He nodded. "You deserve every penny. I would have completely blamed myself if...if you hadn't-"
"It's all right," Sully interrupted. "I don't hold ya at fault."
"Then you're still planning on working with us," Harper said tentatively.
Sully smiled. "This is the best job I ever took. I'm real happy here."
"Glad to hear that," Harper replied, reaching over and patting his shoulder. "And speaking of jobs, as you know I'm now short two pairs of hands, what with two of my skilled workers gone. I suppose I'll have to hire at least one more man. I was wondering, Sully...is there anyone you'd recommend for the job?"
"Me?" he blurted. "You're askin' me to recommend somebody?"
"Yes, that's what I said," he replied. "Do you know anyone? I need a good strong man skilled in carpentry and who can read blueprints. He should be fast but thorough."
"Well, ya should hire Kirk then," Sully said. "He was working with us back in Silver Cliff."
"Kirk? Kirk Davis? Oh, yes. Fine young lad. Hailed from Texas, wasn't it?"
"Yep. If ya want somethin' done right Kirk's your man," Sully replied.
"Does he have family?" Harper asked.
"I believe he was about to marry a girl from town last I saw him," Sully said.
"We can accommodate that. We'll have another cabin built near yours." Harper held out his hand and clasped it with Sully's. "Thank you for that suggestion. I'll ask him to come out here first of the year."
"I look forward to it," Sully said with a smile, shaking his hand firmly.
Brian placed another bowl of popcorn on the table, the scrumptious aroma filling the cabin. Byron and Katie sat on the bench and carefully poked their needles and yarn through pieces of popcorn, creating long chains to wrap around the tree Brian had set up in one corner of the room. Michaela sat nearby, brow fixed with impatience as she corrected a recent spelling test she had given to the younger children.
"Look at all I did, Brian," Katie spoke up proudly, holding up the pile of popcorn strings at her feet.
"Looks good. Our tree's gonna be real pretty," Brian said encouragingly, stooping down and picking up Jack off the floor. "Look, Jack. Do ya like what we're makin'?"
Byron smiled up at his little brother and reached his hand into the popcorn bowl, holding a kernel to the baby's lips. "Here, Jack. Eat this."
"Byron, no," Michaela immediately said, pulling his hand away. "The baby isn't old enough to have popcorn. He'll choke."
Byron frowned guiltily, putting the kernel back in the bowl. "Uh-oh. I'm sorry."
"I don't want you feeding him things unless I say you may," she replied tersely, turning her attention back to the tests.
Brian cleared his throat, cautiously taking a seat. His mother was usually so cheerful around the holidays, but for the past several weeks, whenever anyone mentioned Christmas, she would grow quiet and sometimes even outright bad-tempered. He sensed a big part of her was missing Colorado Springs, but he didn't know what to say to make her feel better. Instead, he had taken it upon himself to coordinate the decorating of their cabin. He found a tree and chopped it down, gathered some holly, pine branches and other green leaves and arranged them across the mantel, and was helping the children make decorations for the tree with popcorn, candles and scraps of cloth tied into bows. He had even found his mother's copy of A Christmas Story, hidden away in one of the trunks, and placed it on the table, ready to be opened and read on Christmas Eve.
"We'll have to tack our stockings to the fireplace," he spoke up with a smile, smoothing the baby's hair. "Even one of Jack's."
"What do ya think Jack wants for Christmas?" Katie asked curiously, eyeing her little brother.
Jack giggled, grasping Brian's hand playfully and pursing his lips together.
"I think he wants to talk," Brian said with a chuckle. "He's been makin' a lot of noises lately, right Ma?"
"But he doesn't make any sense," Katie said.
"He's trying to imitate us," Michaela explained, putting down her pen and stacking together the tests. "That's what all babies do. You and Byron started using words we could understand when you were about a year old. Don't worry, he'll probably start then, too."
"I hope real soon," Byron said. "I want to talk to him."
Michaela handed him one of the tests with a soft sigh. "Seven incorrect, Byron." She gave Katie the other test. "You didn't do much better, Katie." She turned Byron's test toward her, pointing at one of the words. "You know how to spell house. At least you did. Where was your concentration?"
"What's conen-tration?" Byron asked.
"Your focus, Byron. Both of you," she said. "You've never performed this poorly before."
"I didn't want to have another test," Katie said with a groan. "All we do is read and have tests."
"I don't like school. I want to play," Byron added.
"And if you play all day how are you going to learn your lessons?" Michaela asked. "At this rate you're going to be months behind the rest of your classmates when we get home in the spring."
"Hey, I got a good idea. Let's not go home. We could stay here instead," Byron suggested.
"Yeah!" Katie said, brightening. "Then we don't have to go to school no more."
"Any more. And no, we're not staying here," Michaela said quickly, drawing in her breath. "We're going back to Colorado Springs at the end of the twelve months. So I'm afraid you're going to have to keep up with your studies, like it or not."
"Ma?" Brian spoke up timidly. "Ma?"
"What it is it, Brian?" Michaela asked, briefly turning her attention to him.
"Uh, what's that smell?" he said, glancing tentatively at the oven.
Michaela rose to her feet, eyes widening. "The gingerbread." She hurried to the oven, grabbing a towel and opening the door as a thick cloud of smoke escaped. Coughing, she quickly pulled out the tray of scorched gingerbread men and put it on the counter, then fanned the smoke with her apron.
"They're all black, Mama," Byron said, pinching his nose and eyeing the gingerbread with a frown.
Brian opened the front door, pushing the smoke outside with his hand. He turned back to glance at his mother, in tears as she shut the oven door forcefully and wiped the soot from her hands. "I'm sorry," she murmured, resting the towel on the table.
Katie stood up and walked over to the cookie tray. "We can eat the middle parts, Mama," she said helpfully. "Those aren't burned."
"I'll help ya make some more," Byron added. "Ya won't burn 'em next time. Don't cry, Mama. At least you didn't wreck 'em on purpose."
Michaela inhaled shakily and struggled to keep her tears in check. Ashamed, she turned around and rushed outside, shutting the door after her.
Brian immediately put Jack back in his play area near the fireplace and walked to the door.
"Is Mama sad she burned the cookies again? She's not very good at cooking," Byron said, grabbing his older brother's sleeve.
"I don't know what's wrong, B.," Brian replied, caressing his head. "I'll go out and talk to her. You wait here with Jack, all right?"
"Katie can wait with Jack," Byron said firmly. "I'm coming with ya."
Brian sighed, taking his hand. "All right. But don't say anythin' that's just gonna make her more upset. Ya got a way of doin' that."
"I do not," Byron said stubbornly. "I don't make Mama upset."
Brian opened the door. "Don't tell her she's not a good cook and don't say anything about Christmas."
"How come?" Byron demanded.
Brian stepped forward. "Just come on."
Michaela was standing in front of their fence, her back to them as she slowly controlled her tears. Brian walked over to her, arms folded.
"Ma? It ain't your fault about the gingerbread. That oven has a mind of its own."
"It's not that," she whispered, wiping at her tears modestly.
Byron stepped forward, bravely clutching her skirts. "Are ya mad at me? I didn't mean to do bad on my test. I'll do really good on the next one, Mama. I promise."
Michaela drew him to her side, putting her arm around him lovingly. "No, sweetheart. I'm not angry with you. Any of you. I know tests aren't the most exciting things to do. I'm just..."
"What?" Brian prompted. "Tell us."
She shrugged tentatively. "Just a little homesick."
Byron hugged her waist tightly. "Don't be sad, Mama."
"All of us get homesick," Brian said reassuringly. "At least sometimes."
"What for? I never get homesick. I like it here," Byron said matter-of-factly, resting his head against his mother's belly.
"B.!" Brian exclaimed, heaving a large sigh. "I knew you'd just spoil things. We're supposed to be makin' Ma feel better, not worse."
Michaela smiled and fell into soft laughter. "It's all right, Brian. He's just being honest. Don't scold him."
Brian slowly relented. "...Do ya feel better now, Ma?"
She smiled wider, stroking Byron's hair and holding him close. "Yes. Much better."
"Maybe if ya talk to Pa, we could maybe visit Colorado Springs," Brian suggested.
"No," Michaela immediately replied. "We can't ask him that."
"But why?" Brian questioned. "If he knew you were missin' it, I bet he'd think we should all visit."
"He's working hard, Brian," Michaela said. "He doesn't have time to be thinking about that. Don't mention this to him. Please?"
"...All right," Brian murmured. "I won't."
"Let's go back inside," Michaela said, putting her arm around him. "We can start over with the gingerbread."
A soft snow was falling as Michaela, Sully and the children listened to Brian read from the New Testament. With the nearest church as far away as Fresno, Michaela knew going to a proper Christmas Eve service was out of the question. Still, she felt a need to try to have a small celebration, even if it did serve to make her even more homesick. They dressed in their Sunday best, sang hymns, lit candles and now were gathered in front of the fireplace on chairs and benches, warm and safe from the chilly wind outdoors.
Michaela cuddled Jack in her lap, dressed in his nicest shirt, pants and little shiny black shoes. The security of his mother's arms and Brian's soothing voice had soon sent his eyes drooping and now he was fast asleep, weakly clutching Michaela's shawl.
"After they had heard the king, they went on their way," Brian went on. "And the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed."
Michaela watched as Sully gazed pensively at the empty stockings tacked to the mantel. She knew he was disappointed they didn't have more for the children, but he hid it well.
"On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshipped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, incense and myrrh."
"Why would baby Jesus want those things?" Katie asked. She was dressed in a lacy green pinafore, white stockings and a white bow Michaela had tied back her hair with.
Brian thought a moment, closing the Bible and setting it on the mantel. "I guess that's what you're supposed to give kings."
"Even baby kings?" Byron questioned.
Michaela stood up and carefully handed Jack to Sully. "Even baby kings. It's getting late. We should all get to bed."
"How is Santa gonna find us out here, Mama?" Byron asked, grasping her hand and walking over to their cots. "What if he comes to our old house in Colorado on accident?"
"Maybe we won't get any presents," Katie added sadly.
"Santa will manage to find us, although it could take him a little longer in this snow," Michaela said reassuringly. "As for presents...well, I think he may have a few things in his bag for you."
"He's gotta," Byron replied, unlacing his shoes. "We were good this year."
Michaela kissed his brow with a grin. "Overall, yes. Get into your nightclothes. I'll tuck you in when you're ready."
She strolled back over to Sully and sat down on the bench next to him.
"Singin' those Christmas carols almost made it seem like we were back home," he remarked, stroking the baby's cheek as he snuggled against his father's chest and slept on.
"Yes," she murmured, a heavy lump forming in her throat.
He eyed her hesitantly, taken aback by her disheartened attempt to smile. "Michaela?"
"Hm?" she replied, a tear she clearly didn't want him to see sliding down her cheek.
He swallowed, giving her a soft kiss. "Everything's all right...ain't it?"
"Of course," she replied, grasping his hand. "I'm just...just glad we're here together. Our entire family."
He reached up and caressed her cheek. "Merry Christmas."
She drew his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers lovingly. "Merry Christmas, Sully."
The children threw back the sheets hanging around their parents' bed and bounded onto the mattress, violently startling Michaela and Sully from sleep.
"Wake up! Santa came! Santa came!" Byron shouted.
"He found us!" Katie added excitedly.
Michaela groaned wearily, slowly opening her eyes. "It's still dark out! What time is it?" She reached over onto the nightstand and opened her pocket watch. "Five o'clock! Katie and Byron!"
"Come on, Mama. Get up," Byron begged, grabbing her arm and pulling vigorously. "We gotta open the presents!"
Sully leaned over Michaela and gave her a kiss. "I don't think we're gonna win this one."
"I think you're right," she said, slowly sitting up.
Brian peeked out from the sheets tiredly, Jack in his arms, wide-awake and gurgling. "They got me up, too," he remarked.
Michaela chuckled, shaking her head. "Merry Christmas, Brian."
He grinned. "Merry Christmas."
Byron and Katie slid down from the bed and ran to their stockings as Michaela, Sully and Brian slowly followed. Brian gave the children a hand getting the stockings down and then removed his and Jack's stockings, sitting with the baby next to the tree and helping him pull out the treats inside.
Sully brought two chairs over and sat down with Michaela, taking her hand and sharing a smile with her. He had been so afraid the children would be let down by the modest gifts in their stockings, but instead they seemed thrilled. In each stocking, they had placed an orange, a shiny silver dollar, a small box of raisins, warm wool socks, and mittens for the winter months.
"I'm gonna buy candy with my dollar," Byron spoke up, sitting cross-legged on the floor and carefully placing his gifts back inside the stocking for safekeeping.
"You're going to spend it already?" Michaela questioned.
"Yep," he replied.
"That'll buy ya a lot of candy," Brian remarked.
"Good," Byron replied, standing up and placing his stocking on the table.
Sully nudged him toward the tree. "Open our presents now, son."
Byron ran to the tree, digging through the brown-wrapped packages for one with a tag bearing his name. Finally, eyes animated, he came up with a heavy box. "For me?"
"For you," Michaela said, grinning. "Open it, sweetheart."
Byron immediately tore back the brown paper and opened the box, revealing a small replica of their cabin. Sully had carefully carved each individual log and shingle and pieced them together, and Michaela had stained the wood dark brown and painted on a little window with a colorful flower box below it.
"Yippee!" Byron shouted, clutching it to his chest. "...What is it?"
Sully smiled, joining him on the floor. "It's a bird house. I'll help ya nail it up on a post outside and maybe some birds will build a nest in there."
"We put a hole where the door is, large enough for them to fly in," Michaela added.
"This way you can still look at the baby birds without touchin' 'em," Sully said, caressing his hair.
Byron gave him a tight hug. "Thanks, Papa."
Sully kissed his head. "You're welcome."
"Katie, Brian," Michaela called. "Open your gifts."
Brian picked up Jack, handed him to Michaela, and followed Katie over to the tree. The little girl tore into her package, coming up with an elaborate miniature tea set for her dolls and stuffed animals. Sully had carved several little cups and saucers, spoons, a teapot, a bowl for sugar and a pitcher for cream. Once he had finished, Michaela came up with a simple pattern of purple lilacs and painted it on each of the cups. Giggling elatedly, Katie gathered her doll, bear and Byron's puppy and set them up around the tea set, immediately losing herself in her game.
For Brian, Sully had made a new slingshot. It was larger and sturdier than his old one and had an elastic cord to pull back on that was thicker and stronger. Brian clutched it in admiration, slowly meeting his father's eyes. "Thanks. It's real nice."
Sully nodded awkwardly. "Sure."
"We want you to catch us another squirrel," Michaela spoke up, laying her hand on Sully's shoulder encouragingly.
"With this I could catch anything," Brian replied reverently.
Sully turned his attention to Jack, lifting him off of Michaela's lap and giving him a big kiss. "What do ya say, son? Ya wanna see what we have for you?" He carried the baby over to the back of the tree and pulled out a jagged package as large as the little boy. "What's this, Jack?"
The baby looked at the package curiously, reaching his chubby fingers out to touch the crinkly paper. He cried out with delight, loving the feel of the paper in his hands.
"No, Jack. Not the wrapping paper," Michaela spoke up wryly. "See what's underneath, sweetheart."
"Here, let me help ya," Sully said, resting him on his knee and pulling back the paper. Inside was a shiny red rocking horse, similar to what Sully had made at Michaela's request so long ago. Its mane and tail were made up of soft, brown yarn and the seat was padded with a little velvet cushion.
Jack looked up at Sully inquisitively, pressing his hands to the seat and shouting incomprehensibly.
"Let's try it out," Sully whispered, voice filled with emotion. He lifted Jack onto the seat and helped him grasp the handles. Then he gently nudged the horse, sending it swinging back and forth.
Jack immediately giggled with pleasure, gazing at Sully with wide blue eyes. Sully smiled, kissed his head and wrapped his arm around his little back protectively.
"He likes it," Katie spoke up, clutching one of the teacups.
"He likes it very much," Michaela added, standing up and walking over to Sully. She squeezed his shoulder, knelt down and gave him an understanding kiss. "Are you all right?"
He caressed her hand, nodding. "Yeah. Just...happy."
"This is for you," Michaela murmured shyly, removing a smooth, thick leather belt from behind her back and putting it in his hands. "It's for your tools. It has places for your hammer and tape measure, and a pouch for nails. The children helped me pick it out from the catalogue."
He stood up, drawing in his breath. "Michaela, it's perfect," he breathed.
She took it from him and looped it around his waist, buckling it tightly. "You look very handsome in it," she said playfully.
He smiled, kissing her. "Thank you. And now I got somethin' for you. Thaddeus has been helpin' me hide it."
She raised her eyebrows. "Oh? What is it?"
He held up his finger. "Hang on. I'll be right back." He disappeared outside to the shed while Michaela waited inside, watching him out the window inquiringly. He returned a minute later, carrying into the room a large, square object covered with a sheet.
Sully set it in the middle of the room and slowly pulled back the sheet. "I been thinkin'...a teacher needs a proper desk."
Michaela drew in her breath as she gazed at the beautifully carved oak desk. It was smaller than a normal desk but just the right size for stacking a few piles of paper or grading tests. Sully had carved a small circular indentation in the top for a bottle of ink and put in a drawer at the side for holding materials.
Immediately, Michaela was reminded of how tedious school had become for the children and how unexciting her lessons were. The only time anyone enjoyed school was when she was teaching what she loved-medicine. Any other subject was a chore both for her to instruct and the children to learn. Even the nicest desk wasn't going to make her any better at being a teacher.
Sully took notice of her disheartened expression. "What's wrong?"
Michaela ran her hand across the smooth finish of the desktop. "Nothing. It's beautiful, Sully. Thank you."
He smiled, letting out a relieved sigh. "We could set it up over by the fireplace, against the wall. What do ya think?"
"That sounds fine," she replied.
"Ma?" Brian spoke up, placing a stack of small notebooks on the desk and two new bottles of red and black ink. "Katie and B. and I chipped in and got ya these. They're for keeping track of our grades and lesson plans and things."
"I saved my money," Byron added, stepping forward with a small grin.
Michaela picked up one of the bottles of ink, clutching it to her chest. "Thank you. This is just what I needed more of," she whispered.
Brian nudged Katie forward, nodding at her encouragingly.
"We want to tell you we think you're a good teacher, Mama," Katie said.
Michaela rested the ink back on the desk, moved.
"And we're gonna try harder," Byron said.
Michaela drew Byron and Katie to her sides in a warm hug. "I appreciate that. I know going to school hasn't been easy lately, but I'll try harder to make things more interesting, all right?"
"Sounds good," Byron replied.
Michaela kissed each of their heads. "Thank you for my gifts. I love them."
* * *
Michaela brought the last plate over to the table and set it in front of her, smiling timidly at everyone.
"At least the rolls look good, Mama," Byron spoke up helpfully, reaching into the basket and putting one on his plate.
"I made sure to add lots of salt and pepper to everything," she said. "Canned food seems to taste better with plenty of seasonings."
"I'm sure it all tastes fine," Sully said uncertainly, taking Michaela's hand. "Let's say grace."
A firm knock on the door startled everyone.
"Who could that be?" Michaela asked.
Sully got up and opened the door as snow swept inside and an icy draft filled the cabin. A tall man was bundled from head to toe in a coonskin cap, scarves, coats and buckskins. Sully drew him inside, shutting the door firmly after him. A snow-covered beard poked out from beneath his winter apparel and he held a plucked turkey upside down in his hand.
"Who is that?" Byron asked, rising to his knees. "...Santa Claus?"
Galen Clark let out a bellowing laugh, pulling the scarves from his face. "No, son. It's just me! Merry Christmas!"
"Mr. Clark!" Michaela exclaimed, immediately rushing to his side and helping him off with his coat.
"Merry Christmas, ma'am," he said, removing his hat and gloves.
"Merry Christmas! What are you doing all the way out here?"
"Well, two reasons," he began. "One, I know Harper's been supplying you with canned provisions. And I started thinking nobody should be eating canned food on Christmas."
"We're makin' do," Sully said. "They ain't so bad."
"Now, Sully. Don't lie to me," Galen scolded. "I took it upon myself to get you all a proper turkey. I just dropped off a nice plump one at the Donovan's. Here's yours. Take it." He handed the turkey to Sully.
Sully smiled. "Thank you. This is real kind of ya."
Galen patted his back. "Don't think anything of it."
"What's the second reason?" Michaela asked, hanging up his coats and scarves on the hooks.
"The second is a package arrived on the stage for you just yesterday afternoon. It looks like it's something that's to be opened on Christmas. I thought as long as I'm bringing you a turkey I might as well bring this, too."
"A package?" Michaela questioned. "From whom?"
"Why, from your town," he said, opening the door and sliding inside a large crate that came up to his waist.
"What do ya mean from the town?" Brian asked, standing up.
"I don't know," Galen replied, shutting the door and glancing at the crate. "It just says from Colorado Springs."
"I wonder what it could be," Michaela said. "It's so large."
"I'll get a hammer," Sully said, walking across the room and finding his toolbox stored in a corner. He returned to the crate and pried at the lid with the back end of the hammer, loosening it and pulling it off.
Michaela picked up the note lying on top of a mound of shredded newspaper. "To Sully, Dr. Mike, Brian, Katie, Byron and Jack. We all miss you and think about you often. Merry Christmas." She looked up with a smile. "It's from the entire town."
"What'd they send us?" Brian asked, walking over to the crate as Byron and Katie followed quickly behind him.
"Let's see," Sully said, digging into the newspaper and pulling out several packages of all different sizes. He set them on the table as the children began opening them.
"Horace gave us a bunch of stamps," Brian said excitedly, holding them up. "And stationary. He says to write everybody more often."
Michaela tore back the paper of a small long package, revealing a beautiful set of white candles and polished wooden holders. "These are from the Reverend."
Sully dug further into the crate, pulling out two large buckets and putting them on the table.
"Buckets? What are those for?" Michaela asked, tearing back the paper of another package.
Sully pulled off the note attached and read it aloud. "'Apparently you don't even have running water out there. I don't know how on earth you manage under such primitive practically heathen conditions but I thought perhaps these would be of some help.'" He looked up wryly. "From Preston."
Michaela chuckled. "Oh, of course." She unfolded a beautiful lacy white tablecloth. "This is from Jake and Miss Teresa. To brighten up our table."
"It's so pretty," Katie remarked in admiration.
"Teresa says she made it herself," Michaela added, reading the tag attached. "From a pattern that was her grandmother's."
"My goodness," Galen spoke up. "She must be a talented lady."
"Yes," Michaela murmured. "And a very talented teacher as well."
"These are for me and Katie from Dr. Cook," Byron said, holding up a pair of magnifying glasses. "I think maybe he meant to send some toys and sent these on accident."
"Look through the glass, sweetheart," Michaela said with a chuckle, picking up the card attached to the package they were in.
"Whoa!" Byron squealed, gazing at his hand through the magnifying glass. "It's so big!"
"Andrew writes that he heard there's many interesting bugs and other small creatures out here," Michaela said. "You can examine what you see better with magnifying glasses."
Sully stepped forward and gave the children a few parcels of gumdrops. "Here, kids. These are from Mr. Bray."
"And this is from Matthew and Colleen," Michaela added, handing them a large package.
"What is it?" Brian asked excitedly, helping the younger children tear back the paper. Inside was a new box of watercolors for Byron with several brushes, a small set of dresses Colleen had made for Katie's doll, each complete with a matching bonnet, and for Brian, a set of pens and a brand new journal to put down all his observations in. At the bottom of the package was a stuffed yellow baby duck with Jack's name embroidered on its breast.
"Oh, look, sweetheart," Michaela said, lifting the baby out of his chair and picking up the duck. "It's for you. It has your name on it!" She pressed the soft material to his cheek as he curled up and giggled.
Byron opened his paint box and picked up one of the brushes. "I want to paint now, Mama. Can I borrow some paper from your new desk?"
Michaela laughed, closing the paint box. "You may, but let's finish opening the gifts first."
Brian pulled out a small envelope and read the back. "This is for you, Ma, from Miss Dorothy. She musta wrote ya a letter."
"You can put it on the mantel, Brian," Michaela replied. "I'll read it later."
"Michaela, this is from Hank," Sully spoke up with a smile, holding up a corked bottle of wine.
"Hank? Hank sent us that?" Michaela questioned, taking the bottle from him. "That's so thoughtful of him to contribute to this."
Sully stepped forward, handing Brian a thick copy of the Gazette. "Miss Dorothy printed all the journal entries ya sent her in one special issue."
Brian gazed at the paper. "She did? Life in Yosemite by Brian Cooper."
"Oh, Brian. That's wonderful," Michaela said, rubbing the baby's back as he pressed his duck to his mouth. "We'll all have to read it together."
"You must be quite the writer if she printed an entire issue of just your work," Galen said, sitting beside Brian.
Brian shrugged modestly. "She's been printin' my things for a long time, but I got one of my articles printed in the Chronicle when we were in San Francisco."
"My, what an accomplishment. Oh, speaking of San Francisco! There's one more package outside. I completely forgot about it." Galen quickly scurried out the door, returning with a large package cradled in his hands. He handed it to Brian. "It's for you."
"From Ethan," Brian said quietly, tearing back the paper. "Oh...look at this." Inside was a large bottle with an elaborate miniature ship inside. Close attention had been paid to every detail. It had tiny portholes, thick cotton sails, a captain's cabin with a little door and a lookout tower at the top of the largest mast. "It's...great."
"How'd they get that boat in there?" Byron asked curiously. "How do ya get it out?"
"I think they make the bottle around it somehow, B.," Brian explained. "And I don't think you're supposed to want to get it out."
"But I want to," he replied. "I don't want it in there."
Brian laughed, tousling his hair. "That's 'cause you want to play with it. Tell ya what. You can look at it all ya want. You can even use your magnifying glass to see it better."
Byron smiled. "Thanks."
Brian looked up at his parents. "Have ya ever seen anything like it?"
"It's very lovely," Michaela said softly, glancing at Sully.
Sully nodded, swallowing hard. Once again, Ethan had blatantly upstaged him. He felt resentment he couldn't push back build within his chest.
Michaela walked to the table, opening the last package and the card attached. "Grace sent us some of her easiest recipes. And Robert E. gave us this to hang over the mantel," she said, holding up a carefully crafted iron heart with a flower design in the center.
"It's beautiful," Sully said.
"All these gifts are so thoughtful," Michaela said. "I can't believe it."
"This is the best Christmas ever," Katie said reverently.
Sully put his arm around Michaela lovingly. "Sure is."
Michaela nodded, lowering his eyes. "Yes, it is," she murmured, knowing her heart simply wasn't behind her words. She looked up at Galen. "Mr. Clark, let's roast the turkey. And you must stay and eat with us."
"Oh, I couldn't," he protested.
"No, please," Sully said, putting his hand on his arm. "Ya helped us make this Christmas special for us, bringin' all this out here. We at least owe ya a hot meal. Sides, I don't know how we're gonna eat all this turkey by ourselves."
Galen smiled. "Well, in that case, I'd love to. Thank you, Sully."
"Dr. Willard is doing fine at the clinic," Dorothy had written at the end of the letter, "but we think about you all the time and wish you were here. I miss you, Michaela, I've never missed you more."
Michaela slipped the letter into the envelope and gazed at it longingly. Dorothy was trying so hard to be cheerful and make her feel better, especially with her being in such a far away place for the holidays. Michaela had never missed her more either.
"Kids are asleep," Sully said as he strolled over to the bed with the wine bottle and two glasses. "How's Dorothy doin'?"
Michaela quickly looked up, taking a deep breath. "Oh, she's fine."
"Somethin' wrong? What'd she write?"
"Nothing, really," Michaela replied, setting the envelope on the nightstand. "I was just thinking...I don't believe we could have a more caring group of friends."
He uncorked the bottle and filled the glasses. "Thanks to them this Christmas was even better."
"Yes," she murmured. "Sully? They're still running trains through here, aren't they? But if someone wanted to...go somewhere for a visit, it would be quite dangerous to get on one of them."
"I wouldn't risk it myself," he replied, sitting down on the bed. "No tellin' when an avalanche or bad storm might come up. Why? Where ya wanna go?"
"Nowhere. I was just curious."
He eyed her for a moment. "Michaela? Is there somethin' on your mind?"
"What would be on my mind?" she blurted.
"I don't know. Lately ya just seem...different. Quiet."
"I'm just tired," she said, lowering her eyes. "With you at work all day-"
"Ya still frettin' about what happened? With the dynamite?" he replied. "Silas and Andy are gone now, I promise. They won't be showin' their faces around here again."
"I...yes," she stammered, face falling with defeat at how off the mark he was. "Yes, I suppose that's it."
"Look at me," he said, tilting her chin up. "They're gone. Everythin's fine now."
"I know, Sully," she replied.
"You can talk to me, Michaela," he whispered. "If you're worried about somethin', you can tell me and we'll talk about it."
"But...what if it were something one couldn't talk about?" she asked tentatively. "What if it would be disappointing to hear?"
He smiled and gave her a hug. "Nothin' ya say could disappoint me. 'Sides, I like hearin' ya talk. You're good at it."
She kissed his cheek and grinned. "The only thing I'm worried about now is how the children are going to manage to eat all the candy Loren gave them. They're all going to come to me with belly aches."
"Good thing their ma's a doctor," Sully replied, handing her one of the glasses and pressed his to it with a quiet ring. "To Yosemite."
"Yes. To Yosemite," she replied quietly.
"And to us," he whispered, reaching his hand up to caress her cheek and claiming her lips.
Sully threw open the door as a wagon pulled into the clearing. "They're here," he said excitedly, grabbing Michaela's hand and leading her outside.
"Sully!" Kirk called, removing his hat and waving it.
"Kirk! Ya made it!" Sully called back, walking up to the wagon and grabbing the bridle of the horse. Beside Kirk sat a beautiful young woman, visibly tired from the trip but smiling nonetheless. She had long wavy dark hair tied back haphazardly and wore a simple but flattering cornflower blue dress and matching shawl.
Michaela was immediately taken aback by how young the couple was. Kirk seemed about Colleen's age and the girl looked not too much older than Brian. Sully had raved about what a good friend Kirk was, and Michaela was hoping she would be able to befriend his wife. She so desperately needed another woman to confide in, but she had not been prepared to see their new neighbors were the same ages as some of her own children.
Kirk put the break on the wagon and hopped down, shaking Sully's hand firmly and slapping him on the back. "Good to see ya."
Sully smiled, drawing Michaela closer. "I want ya to meet my wife Michaela. Our kids are inside."
Kirk politely shook her hand. "A pleasure, ma'am."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Kirk," Michaela replied.
He walked back to the wagon and held his arms up to the girl. "Careful, now. Take it slow."
"Oh, Kirk. I'm all right," she admonished, grasping his shoulders and stepping to the ground. She drew her shawl more snugly around her shoulders, pulling it up to reveal a sizable swelling of her belly.
"This is Faye," Kirk said with a proud grin.
"Good to meet ya," Faye said shyly.
"Well, seems congratulations are in order," Sully said with a smile.
Kirk put his arm around Faye lovingly. "Thanks. Just a few more months now."
"You both must be exhausted," Michaela spoke up. "Won't you come inside and have something to eat?"
Kirk glanced back at the wagon, filled with luggage, crates of provisions and a few small cages with chickens inside. "That's mighty kind of ya, ma'am, but I s'pose we best get out to our own cabin and start settlin' in. Harper says I can start work tomorrow if I can manage it."
"Tell ya what," Sully said. "Come inside and rest for a few minutes and then all of us will go out to your place and help ya move in."
Sully, Brian and Kirk carried in the crates from the wagon as Michaela and Faye made up the bed in the corner of the room with warm winter sheets and quilts. Katie and Byron sat at the kitchen table and unpacked cans of provisions and Jack sat on the floor with a few of the cans, stacking them into small towers.
"Mail comes on the stage only about every two weeks," Michaela explained. "New provisions as well. I'm afraid sometimes one can feel quite secluded out here."
"Oh, that's not much different than when I was livin' in Silver Cliff," Faye said, pulling a pillowcase onto a pillow. "Sometimes it'd be months before a new letter come from a rider."
"Surely you're going to miss home at least a little," Michaela replied. "California is quite different from Colorado we all soon found out."
"Since my pa passed on, couple months back, Kirk's all I have in the world," Faye said. "It don't matter to me whether this is California or Colorado or half way across the ocean. My man's here, that's all I care about."
Michaela folded a quilt and placed it at the end of the bed. "Yes, of course," she replied, swallowing.
Faye sniffed the air thoughtfully. "Bread's done," she remarked, putting the pillow on the bed and walking over to the oven.
Michaela followed her curiously as the young woman opened the door and pulled out a tray with a perfectly bronzed, thick loaf of wheat bread. "How...how did you know it was done, Faye?"
Faye looked up, placing the tray on the table. "I don't know. I s'pose I got a feel for these things after awhile."
"I always burn everything I make in our oven," Michaela said, folding her arms and letting out a discouraged sigh. "Just when I think I know what I'm doing I ruin something again."
"Strange," Faye replied. "Maybe ya ain't keepin' an eye on it properly."
"I honestly don't know what I'm doing wrong," Michaela said. "I must confess I'm nearly ready to give up."
"Well, if ya'd like, I could come over and try to see what the trouble is. I wouldn't mind. 'Sides, I reckon it's gonna be lonely out here with Kirk at work all day."
Michaela smiled. "Yes, that would be nice. I'd love some help. Thank you, Faye."
Faye awkwardly stooped to her knees and caressed Jack's head. "I'll come. But only if ya let me hold this little one. I'm gonna need the practice."
Michaela picked up Jack and kissed his cheek. "Of course. Jack loves to be held."
Faye rose back to her feet. "Jack. I like that name."
"Have you decided on a name for your baby?" Michaela asked.
She chuckled. "Kirk and me fought about it for months! But I think we've settled on callin' him Dan. That's after my pa."
"That's a lovely name," Michaela remarked. "You seem fairly certain it's a boy."
"Oh, yes," Faye replied. "Kirk had a dream about it. And I just got a feelin'." She tickled the baby's cheek. "Just think. Jack and Dan can play together."
Michaela smiled, rubbing the baby's back as he cooed. "I think Jack would love some company. We all would."
Michaela crouched on a stool beside the cow and sprayed milk into the bucket as Sully threw a saddle onto the horse and began buckling the various straps.
"Kirk's gonna like workin' here," he remarked. "This job's perfect for him."
Michaela glanced up tentatively. "You didn't tell me Kirk was so young."
He shrugged, reaching beneath the horse's belly to buckle the girth. "S'pose I never really thought about it."
"Faye must be Brian's age if not a little older," Michaela added. "That's so young to be married and already expecting a child."
"They seem ready. Kirk's more dependable than a lot of men older than him. He'll take care of his family just fine." He patted the horse's neck and stepped towards her. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she protested. "I just expected Faye to be...closer to my own age." She lowered her eyes and focused on the milk bucket. "You realize we're old enough to be their parents, Sully."
"That don't mean ya can't be friends," Sully said sensibly.
"No, of course not. She seems like a nice young lady. It just can't be the sort of friendship I was...I was hoping for." She tugged on the cow's udders faster. "I suppose I'm just a little disappointed. That's all." She glanced up wryly. "It's just Katie and I in a houseful of boys. Sometimes a woman finds herself in need of another woman."
"I know," he replied, walking over and giving her lips a soft kiss. "Mail's gonna come this week. Maybe Dorothy or Grace sent another letter."
"Yes," she murmured.
"I gotta get to work."
"All right. Don't be late," she said as he grabbed the bridle of the horse and led him to the door of the shed.
Sully turned back around and smiled softly. "Love ya. I'll see ya tonight."
"Have a good day, Sully," she replied, standing up and picking up the milk bucket.
"Your oven's too hot. That's your first mistake," Faye explained, shutting the door and latching it.
"But I thought it should be as hot as I could make it," Michaela replied.
"Oh, no," Faye said. "You want it a little hot, but too much and stone ovens like this are gonna scorch anythin' ya put in. We'll have to give the fire a minute to die down some before we put in the cookies." She strolled over to the table where Brian, Katie and Byron were rolling out dough and pressing cookie cutters into it in another attempt to make gingerbread.
"How's this, Faye?" Katie asked, holding up one of the dough figures by the head.
"That's very good," she said with a grin, rolling up her sleeves. "Now put it on the tray."
"You have flour everywhere, young lady," Michaela scolded teasingly, picking up a towel and wiping the specks of flour from the front of Katie's pinafore.
"What else did Mama mess up, Faye?" Byron asked, his own shirt splattered with floor and baking soda. "She's sure not very good at makin' gingerbread men!"
"It's just the oven," Brian said helpfully, cracking an egg into a bowl. "It don't ever do what we want it to."
Faye glanced at Michaela uncomfortably. "You need to change just a few little things. Then the oven will work for you."
"It's all right, Faye. I know," Michaela said with a sigh. "There's many little things I'm not doing right!"
Faye chuckled. "Well, all right. Many little things. The secret is ya gotta open up the oven door every few minutes and turn the cookie sheet. Then everythin' gets the right amount of heat."
"Oh, I see," Michaela replied. "I suppose that makes sense."
"I'm done," Byron announced, holding up his tray of gingerbread men.
"Very good, Byron," Faye said. "Let's bake them so you can eat them!" She handed the tray to Michaela. "Here, Mrs. Sully. You do it."
Uncertainly, Michaela walked to the oven, opened the door with a towel and slid the tray inside.
"Try to put the sheet right in the center," Faye instructed, clasping her hands to her chin. "There. Perfect."
Michaela shut the door and then put the towel on the counter. "I have a good feeling about this. I think they're going to turn out this time."
Faye grinned. "They will. Everybody helped. They'll be the best gingerbread men you ever tasted."
Michaela grabbed a bucket off the counter. "I need to bring up some more water from the lake. I'll just be a minute." She opened the door to the frigid winter air and walked down to the creek, a soft smile on her face. She had never imagined that she and Faye could be friends, but already they were getting along perfectly. Faye was eager to spend time with the children, who had immediately taken a liking to her, and Michaela appreciated the young woman's willingness to help with the baking.
Michaela knelt beside the lake and dipped the bucket into the water. She decided having Faye as a neighbor was going to be better than she originally thought. At the very least, there was someone nearby to help combat the dismal loneliness of being so far from everything all day. She stood up and walked back up the bank and to their porch, stopping short as two deer appeared from the dense trees, nibbling on bits of grass poking up from the snow.
Michaela carefully opened the door with her free hand. "Faye, everyone," she called in a whisper. "Come see!"
"What is it, Ma?" Brian asked, wiping his hands on a towel and following the younger children outside.
Michaela raised her finger to her lips as Faye and the children gathered around her. "Look. Two doe, right over there."
Byron clung to Michaela's skirts, mouth agape. "They're pretty!" he breathed.
"I've never seen 'em so close," Brian remarked.
"Land sakes," Faye whispered. "Nary-one of 'em even minds us standing here."
Suddenly, the deer raised their heads and perked their ears. They stood frozen for a few seconds, then as quickly as they had appeared, they darted back into the woods and vanished.
"They got spooked. What happened?" Brian asked. He drew in his breath as a Miwok led his horse into the clearing. He was wrapped in a warm bearskin blanket and had leggings made of furs and smooth buckskin. He stared at them with dark, familiar brown eyes, his thin long hair blowing across his face in the gentle wind.
"An Injun," Faye murmured.
"He came back," Katie said, clinging to Michaela's blouse tightly.
"Get inside," Michaela blurted. She dropped her bucket and grabbed Katie and Byron's arms. "Get inside! Now!"
Quickly, she ushered everyone back into the cabin and shut the door, sliding the board across it.
"I didn't know there was Injuns out here," Faye said, leading the children back by the fireplace.
"They're out here all right," Brian said, hurrying to the mantel and lifting the rifle down. "And they ain't friendly."
Michaela eyed Brian worriedly as she reached into Jack's cradle and picked him up. "Brian-" she began.
"I want to have it, Ma," he said firmly. "Just in case."
"Be careful," she whispered, pressing Jack's head to her shoulder protectively and joining Faye and the children back by the fireplace.
"What do ya s'pose he wants?" Faye asked, drawing Katie to her side.
"I don't know," Michaela admitted, holding Jack tighter. "We haven't seen him in a few months."
"Last time he set fire to our cabin," Brian said vehemently.
"Are we gonna get burned, Mama?" Byron asked unsteadily.
"Of course not," Michaela said quickly, gazing out the window. "He'll go away soon, sweetheart."
Brian walked to the window with the rifle and stood to the side of it, peering out it. "He won't come any closer. I promise," he murmured, clutching the rifle tighter.
They waited in silence for several minutes, afraid to move. The Indian sat on his horse where he was, eyes flickering passionately as he eyed the cabin. Michaela hated to see Brian resorting to the rifle, but she felt much better with him standing guard. Perhaps the Indian wanted to know who Faye was, or perhaps he was just checking up on the family. Michaela forced herself to believe he would disappear back into the woods as soon as his curiosity had petered out.
She breathed an immense sigh of relief as Brian finally rested his rifle against the wall and drew in his breath. "He left," he said. "He's gone."
Michaela kissed Jack's head and rocked him. "He's gone," she echoed.
"Seems we're not as alone out here as ya claimed," Faye said, slowly taking a seat at the table and resting her hand across her belly.
"Sully says the Indians here just want to frighten us," Michaela said, swallowing hard. "They don't intend to do us any real harm."
Faye chuckled. "Well, that was mighty excitin'!"
Michaela sat down. "I don't know if I would call it that. I think you'd better stay here until Sully comes home, Faye. Then he can drive you back."
Faye waved her hand. "Oh, Mrs. Sully. What's one Injun? We got a whole mess of 'em back in Colorado, don't we? 'Sides, I s'pose the worst thing we can do is let 'em see we're scared."
"He's probably long gone by now," Brian admitted. "Still, we best be careful."
"I gotta get back to my cabin and start supper," Faye said, standing up. "No Injun is gonna keep me from havin' a hot meal ready for Kirk when he gets back from his first day of work."
"If you're certain you want to," Michaela said. "But you must let Brian walk you home."
"I'll be glad to take ya home, Faye," Brian said, grasping her arm. "I think you're right. We gotta show 'em they can't push us around."
"Just be careful," Michaela said. "Thank you for helping us with the oven, Faye."
"I was happy to," Faye replied with a smile. "I'll stop by again soon for another visit."
"We'd all love that," Michaela replied.
"We can make more cookies, Faye," Byron spoke up.
Faye waved as Brian opened the door. "I can't wait."
Simon opened the door to the clinic and swept the dust vigorously out onto the porch. Out of breath, he reached his hand up to unbutton his collar, allowing the breeze to cool his skin.
"Dr. Willard!" Grace called, leading Robert E. down the porch.
Simon slowly rested the broom against the wall and rebuttoned his collar. "Yes?"
"Robert E. burned himself on the range," Grace said, holding out her husband's forearm. "It's pretty bad." "It's nothin', Grace," Robert E. said, clenching his teeth as Grace turned his arm toward Simon. Simon glanced at the fiery swelling and then at the couple. "I suggest you clean it and wrap it with some fresh cloths." "Maybe we better come inside so ya can look at it," Grace said, stepping forward. Simon quickly stepped in front of the door. "No, no. I don't think that's necessary." "We could make an appointment," Grace said. "Tell us when to come by." "I'm sorry but...I-I'm completely booked," Simon stammered. "Not to mention all the cleaning I have to do. This place gets so filthy so fast." Robert E. cleared his throat, withdrawing his arm. "We best get goin', Grace." Grace sombered, slowly glancing at Robert E. and then Simon. "You're booked up...or ya just don't want us inside?" she whispered. "No, it's not that," Simon replied uneasily. "I just thought you might be more at ease with...someone of your own kind."
Robert E. slowly rubbed his chin, swallowing. "Tell me...where we gonna find a doctor of our own kind?"
Simon sighed, folding his hands. "Robert E., you have to understand...this medical practice is a business. I have patients I must maintain. If I allow just anyone to come in here regardless of how the rest of my patients feel about them, well, you can imagine the consequences. Surely someone down in Shantytown could assist you."
He grasped his wife's arm. "Come on, Grace."
"Robert E., you're hurt!" Grace protested.
Simon picked up the broom and began sweeping again. "I'm sure you'll be fine. It's not that deep."
"G'day," Robert E. replied briskly.
* * *
Byron and Katie carried out a bowl with two paring knives inside.
"Thank you," Faye said, taking the bowl from them.
"Do we have to help peel the potatoes?" Katie asked hesitantly.
Michaela tied Jack's wool hat snug around his head and then stood up. "I think Faye and I can manage. You may play, but after you feed the chickens for me. How does that sound?"
"Good," Byron replied. "We know where the feed is, Mama."
"Thank you so much," she said with a smile as they scurried off to the shed and opened the door. She sat down next to Faye and gazed out at the clearing at Brian. He was pacing the perimeter of the property, eyes scanning the trees earnestly.
"Brian's still keepin' watch?" Faye asked, picking up a potato and peeling away the skin with one of the knives.
"He's always done this," Michaela explained. "He feels responsible for all us."
"I s'pose it don't hurt to have somebody keepin' an eye on things," Faye remarked. "Especially somebody like Brian. I feel safe with him around."
"I have to admit I do, too," Michaela said. "It's just hard watching him grow up sometimes. He's not a child anymore."
"Kirk and me want lots of children," Faye said with a smile. "We always want little ones around."
Michaela took a potato out of the bag and ran her knife down it. "I don't think our cabin can hold any more," she said with a chuckle.
"I guess Kirk will have to add on to ours," Faye said.
"Well, you're only going to be here a year," Michaela replied. "It doesn't seem worth all that work. I would wait until you're home."
"A year?" Faye questioned. "Why would we only be here a year?"
"That's how long we're staying," Michaela said, confused. "I assumed that's what Harper offered you as well."
"Oh, no," Faye replied, dropping her skinned potato into the bowl. "Kirk signed on permanently. We'll be here as long as Mr. Harper wants him."
"Oh. I see," Michaela murmured, swallowing.
"Anyway, what's the point of only stayin' here a year?" Faye asked.
"Well, we have our town and our friends and I have a medical practice back at home," Michaela said quietly. "I don't mind being here for a little while, but everything I've worked for is in Colorado. Our life is in Colorado. I'll be glad to be going home when the winter is over."
Faye shrugged. "I don't know. I'm beginnin' to love things here. You would think the quiet would be lonesome, but I got you and Mrs. Donovan to talk to during the day, and all your children. Chores and cookin' keep me busy, too, and as soon as the baby gets here, I'll have him to look after."
"I suppose," Michaela said. "It's different here at least." She glanced up. "I didn't know you met Mrs. Donovan."
"Yes. Last week," Faye said. "She's as kind a soul as I ever did talk to."
"Is that so?" Michaela blurted.
"She's lending me yarn and a pattern she came up with herself for a blanket for the baby," Faye said, caressing her belly. "He's gonna need it for these cold nights."
Michaela eyed her, perplexed. "Well, that was nice of her."
Faye slowly ran her knife down another potato, gazing at Jack. He had a toy train car in one hand and was clasping it tightly to his chest, gurgling contentedly. "Mrs. Sully? Did it hurt? I mean, when your baby was born?" she asked shyly. "I heard both ways. Some say it's just awful, others say it ain't as bad as they thought."
"Every delivery is different, Faye," Michaela said, reaching into the sack for another potato. "You should be examined by a doctor. It may help put to rest any uncertainties you may have."
"No need. I've already been examined," Faye said.
"You have? By whom?" Michaela asked curiously.
"The midwife rode out here from Fresno last week," she explained, dropping her potato into the bowl and picking up another.
"I'm sure she's very competent," Michaela replied. "But I must highly recommend that you be seen by a doctor and on a regular basis."
"We can't afford no big-city doctor," Faye said, shaking her head.
"I meant that I could examine you, Faye," Michaela said, pausing in her work and nodding at the cabin. "I don't have a proper examination table here but we can make do without one. We can discuss payment when you can afford it."
"I don't know how Kirk would feel about that. He don't take kindly to charity."
"We're talking about your well-being and that of your child," Michaela said. "Surely, Kirk will understand. Would you like me to talk to him?"
"I don't think he'd take too kindly to that, either," she said with a smile. "Don't worry. The midwife says I'm fit as a horse. Kirk likes her and I do, too. Word has it she's brought half the babies this side of the Sierras."
"I'm glad you feel comfortable with her," Michaela said half-heartedly. She shaved off another strip of skin from a potato and watched it fall to the ground. "Faye, just know that you can come get me if you or Kirk ever need a doctor for whatever reason. Don't put yourselves in jeopardy because of pride."
"Sure, Mrs. Sully. We'll remember that," Faye said.
"It's natural to have doubts," Michaela said, standing up and lifting Jack into her arms. "When the time comes, you just need to trust your body. It knows what it's doing." She gave the baby a loving kiss on his cheek. "Having my children was the hardest work I've ever done. But also...also the most rewarding."
Faye smiled. "Kirk and me can't wait."
Michaela glanced at the shed. "Byron and Katie are taking a long time feeding the chickens."
"You don't suppose they wandered off," Faye said, glancing out at the clearing.
"We should check on them," Michaela said, stepping down from the porch. "I'm sure they're nearby somewhere."
* * *
"What was that?" Katie said, looking up from the chickens gathered around her feet.
"Byron! Katie!" Luke shouted in a whisper, carefully poking his head out from behind a thick spruce tree.
"Luke!" Byron shouted, dropping his bag of feed to the ground as the chickens swarmed it.
"Shh!" Luke scolded. "What're ya tryin' to do? Tell the whole country?"
Byron giggled, scurrying over to the tree where Luke and Jim were hiding. "Luke. Jim."
Jim motioned Katie over. Reluctantly, the little girl obeyed, clutching her bag of feed to her chest.
"We're not supposed to play together anymore," Katie said quietly.
"I know," Jim said downheartedly.
"That's 'cause our mama don't like your mama," Byron said matter-of-factly. "Not one bit."
Luke grinned. "I think our ma feels the same about yours. But they don't have to know about today."
Jim crouched down to his knees, pulling a deck of cards from his back pocket. "Say, wanna see a trick?"
"Sure," Byron replied, sitting down cross-legged on the ground.
"Pick a card," Jim instructed, holding out the deck. "Look at it but don't show me."
"Watch this," Luke said. "This'll be the best trick ya ever did see."
Byron pulled out the eight of diamonds and studied it carefully, Katie looking over his shoulder. "All right," the little boy said. "I got one."
"Now stick it back in wherever you want," Jim instructed, fanning out the deck.
Byron carefully slid the card back into the deck. "All right. Now what?"
Jim hid the deck behind his back and shuffled through it, biting his lip in concentration. "Now...I'll find it again!" A moment later, he drew a card out from behind his back. "Is this it?"
"That's it!" Katie exclaimed, taking the card from him and gazing at it. "It's the same one!"
"How did you do that?" Byron asked, looking up at him in awe. "Show me!"
Jim eyed him reluctantly. "A magician isn't supposed to tell anyone how to do his tricks."
"You can tell me," Byron implored. "I won't tell anybody. Please?"
"Well, I s'pose maybe I could," Jim said slowly. "Just this once."
"Jim! Luke!" Michaela exclaimed, lifting her skirts and hurrying over to the children. "What are you doing here?"
"Miz Sully!" Luke said hoarsely. "We, uh...we was just passin' through and-"
"We didn't mean to," Byron spoke up, rising to his feet as Faye walked up with Jack in her arms. "We didn't mean it."
"I want you to go straight home," Michaela said quietly, grasping Katie and Byron's hands and drawing them to her side. "We'll pretend this never happened."
"Yes, ma'am. Straight home," Jim said quickly, shoving his cards back into his pocket and following Luke into the woods.
"Why do Jim and Luke have to leave?" Faye spoke up, rubbing Jack's back.
Michaela watched the boys go, swallowing regretfully, then she led Byron and Katie back to the clearing. "It's...a long story," she explained, surprised at the embarrassment she felt. She had nearly forgotten why she and Carrie had forbidden the children to see each other in the first place. The more she thought about it the more silly it sounded. "Their mother and I, we disagreed on some matters and so we decided it would be better if our families didn't...well, associate with each other."
"Disagreed on what matters?" Faye asked. "That's a real shame. They only got each other to play with. I don't see any other youn'uns out here."
Michaela glanced at the children guiltily. "It's better this way, Faye," she said weakly.
"Jim was gonna teach me a card trick," Byron said despondently.
"You'll mend your differences," Faye said optimistically. "Then your children can play together."
"These differences are quite large. I don't know if they'll mend easily," Michaela said with a sigh.
"Well, the Good Book says love thy neighbor," Faye said as they stepped back up onto the porch. "Seein' as they're the only neighbors ya got to love sides me and Kirk, that can't be that hard."
Michaela smiled softly. "I suppose that's true. But it takes two to mend differences."
Faye pressed her finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Yes. Well...give it time."
"No, Jack," Michaela said, tiredly pulling the baby's hand away from her stack of lesson plans. "You're going to get ink all over you."
Impatiently, the baby fidgeted in her lap and pulled on her blouse sleeve.
"Jack," Michaela said with a sigh. "Sweetheart, I'm trying to write. Just one more minute."
The baby looked up at her, whimpered and then fell into tears.
Michaela set down her pen and pushed the papers aside. "You're hungry, aren't you? All right. Let's get you some lunch." She stood up and put him on her hip, crossing the room and looking through the cans and boxes on the shelves.
"They're comin' good, Ma," Brian spoke up from the table where the younger children were hovering over their notebooks with pencils. Michaela had instructed them to put their spelling words for the week into sentences while she worked on the lesson plans for the next few days. It wasn't a creative assignment, but at least it was keeping them busy.
"I'm already done. Can you read mine, Mama?" Katie spoke up, clutching her notebook to her chest. "I wrote good ones."
Michaela pulled down a tin of oatmeal as the baby cried louder. "After I feed Jack."
"You like him more than me," Katie said, eyeing the baby with a trace of jealousy.
"Katie, that's not true," Michaela protested, raising her voice to be heard over Jack's cries. "It's just when he cries I have to take care of him right away."
"The baby can't feed himself or do much of anything," Brian added. "He needs Ma to help him out just like you did, Katie."
"He's always crying," Katie protested, resting her notebook back on the table dejectedly.
Michaela walked to the table and quickly kissed her head. "I'll read your sentences. I promise. After I feed the baby. Why don't you two go outside and play until we're done?"
"I guess so," Byron replied, climbing down from the bench and scurrying over to the coat rack.
"Thank you," Michaela replied, turning back to the counter. "Take your hats and mittens. It's chilly outside."
* * *
"I got an idea," Katie said. "I'll go look for flowers and sticks and we can put them inside. Then birds will want to go in there."
"Good thinking!" Byron exclaimed, climbing down from the fence post. "I'll get leaves and make a bed for them." He crouched down to his knees and picked up some dried leaves with his mittens. Then he climbed back up the post and shoved them through the hole, returning to the ground to gather more once he was finished.
Michaela opened the door, smiling as the little boy stood up and clutched an oversized pile of leaves in his hands. "We're done, Byron. I can look at your work now."
"All right," he called back with a grin.
Michaela scanned the clearing. "Where's Katie?"
Byron looked behind him. "I don't know."
"Katie!" Michaela called. She shut the door and walked over to him. "Did she say she was going somewhere?"
"Um, she went to pick flowers," Byron said.
"Flowers? In the winter? How long ago was that?"
"I don't know, Mama," Byron said, turning to face the trees.
"Katie!" Michaela shouted. "Where did she go, Byron? Into the woods?"
He shook his head. "I don't remember."
"What's wrong, Ma?" Brian asked, opening the door.
"Katie's gone," she said, spinning around to face him. "Byron said she went off somewhere to look for flowers."
"She's gotta be nearby," Brian said. "I'll get our coats. We'll look around."
Michaela led Byron back to the cabin. "I want you to stay inside and play with Jack, all right?"
"I'll help look for Katie," Byron said.
"No. I want you to stay inside," Michaela said firmly, giving him a hand up onto the porch. "Don't go anywhere, Byron. Do you hear me?"
"Katie!" Brian called, slipping into his coat and jogging over to his mother. "Katie!"
"She knows not to wander," Michaela said shakily, taking her coat from Brian and putting her arms into the sleeves. "She knows, Brian. Doesn't she?"
"'Course she does," he said, walking briskly into the trees. "We'll find her in no time. Katie! Answer us!"
"Katie!" Michaela echoed. They circled the perimeter of the clearing several times, their pace increasing and their voices growing louder. Brian watched the ground for footprints or any other sign of the little girl, turning up nothing. Michaela held her coat tight against her chin, the chilliness of the air making her increasingly frantic. She couldn't fathom how Katie could have walked so far away from calling distance. She had never done that before. Perhaps the little girl was still upset that Michaela had to feed Jack before looking at her schoolwork. That could explain why she wasn't returning their calls.
"This just ain't like her, Ma," Brian spoke up, as if he had read her thoughts. "She would never just not answer us."
"Where is she, Brian? Where could she be?" Michaela asked, her eyes darting across the thick trees. "What if she's lost? Katie."
Brian paused in his steps, resting one hand against a tree. "Let's stop and think. Where would she want to go? The Donovans to see Jim?"
"She doesn't know how to walk all the way there by herself. At least I don't think she does," Michaela said. "And she would never go all that way without saying something."
"I guess she wouldn't have gone to see Faye then, either," Brian said, crossing his arms.
"Not without saying anything," Michaela said, brow fixed with worry.
"...The lake," Brian whispered. "Did she go down to the lake?"
Michaela's eyes widened with alarm. Without a word, she lifted her skirts and ran through the trees to the bank of the lake, sliding down it and running to the edge of the water. "Katie! Katie!" she cried, eyes searching the still water. "Katie!" She turned to face Brian as he made his way down the bank. "She wouldn't go in the water. She wouldn't."
"Nobody's touched the boat," Brian said, nodding at the canvas draped over their rowboat.
"Katie!" Michaela called again, her voice growing increasingly desperate. "Katie, it's Mama! Answer me!"
Brian swallowed hard, rubbing his arms. "We gotta find her soon, Ma. It's gettin' colder."
She slowly turned to face him. "Ride out to the work site and tell Sully. I'll keep looking."
He nodded. "I'll bet she'll turn up before I even get home."
"Yes," she said uncertainly, glancing out at the lake again.
"I'll be back in no time," Brian said, running back up the bank for the shed.
* * *
Michaela ran across the clearing, grasping Sully's jacket with her gloved hands. "Sully. Katie," she began desperately.
"How long's she been missin'?" he asked, searching her eyes anxiously.
"I don't know. About an hour," she said, acutely conscious of the fading afternoon sunlight. "It's so cold out, Sully. It's going to get dark."
He nodded behind him. "The men came to help. We'll find her."
Harper stepped forward, wrapped in a warm bearskin coat with a cowboy hat secured on his head with a scarf. "Folks get mixed up and lose their way in these woods all the time," he said. "They always come back. We'll get to her."
"Thank you for bringing everyone out here, Mr. Harper," Michaela said gratefully. "I'm so sorry about this."
"The important thing is gettin' your little girl home safe," Harper replied. "We're happy to help out."
Thaddeus emerged from the crowd. "I've been on many a rescue attempt in worse weather than this," he spoke up, his rifle slung over his shoulder. "I know what to do."
"Then I put you in charge, Tad," Harper said, patting his shoulder. "Tell us how to go about it."
"You men! Listen up," Thaddeus shouted, stepping up onto the porch. "Form a line a few lengths apart. We'll head into the woods together. Ya see any sign of the youn'un, sound off your rifle."
"What was she wearin', Michaela?" Sully asked.
"Her yellow pinafore and deerskin jacket. I think she put on her hat and mittens. They're blue." Michaela shook her head tearfully. "I don't remember, Sully. I think she put them on. I told her to."
"Hear that?" Harper called. "She's got a yellow dress and a deerskin jacket and maybe a blue hat and mittens. Let's go, men. Let's bring her home."
"Brian and me, we'll scout on our own," Sully said, grabbing Thaddeus' arm. "See if we can't pick up her tracks."
"Sure thing, Sully. Don't you worry. She'll turn up," Thaddeus said, swinging his rifle to his other shoulder and trooping into the woods.
Sully lingered back with Michaela, rubbing her back comfortingly. "We'll find her."
"Let me go with you," she said pleadingly.
"Ya best stay here, in case she finds her way back. All right?"
"Yes, you're right. She might find her way back," Michaela said. "I'll wait here."
"She's a smart little girl," Sully added, drawing Michaela to his chest. "She'll be all right."
"Sully...the lake," Michaela murmured, voice breaking. "What if she went into the lake?" Suddenly, tears broke free. "She could be in the lake, Sully."
"She can't be," he said, turning her to face him. "Michaela, Katie's afraid of the water. She don't like goin' in any farther than her ankles. She's afraid."
"She can't swim," she said, grasping his sleeves. "What if she somehow fell in?"
"She didn't," Sully said firmly.
"Be careful," she whispered.
He gave her a quick kiss. "We'll have her back soon."
"Bring her back," she murmured, squeezing his hand. "Bring her home, Sully. Please."
* * *
Michaela was seated at the table, staring blankly out the window. The men had been gone for several hours now. Faye had walked over to the cabin soon after they had left, gotten together some soup for Byron and Jack to eat and then tucked the baby in his cradle. Now she sat with Michaela, talking to her and trying to boost her spirits while keeping up a slow game of checkers with Byron.
"Why aren't they back yet?" Michaela asked restlessly.
"They'll be back soon," Faye replied, sliding a checker forward.
Michaela stood up and walked briskly to the window, clutching the sill and looking out it. "Was that a gunshot?"
"I didn't hear anything," Faye said quietly. "Probably just the wind through the trees."
Michaela spun around and walked over to the little boy, taking his arms and turning him to face her. "Byron, think harder. Where did Katie say she was going?"
Byron looked up at her, licking his lips. "I don't know."
"You know! You were there!" Michaela said, her voice escalating. "Byron, think!"
The little boy burst into startled tears, clutching a checker in his hand. "Mama. To p-pick flowers. I don't know. Mama, don't get mad at me. Please."
Faye quickly stood up, putting her arm around Byron comfortingly. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."
Michaela stepped back weakly, swallowing hard. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry."
"He's tuckered out," Faye said. "We all are."
Michaela stooped down and gave the little boy a comforting hug. "Let Faye tuck you in, all right?"
"Is Katie coming back?" he asked hoarsely. "What if Papa can't find her? Who I gonna play with then, Mama?"
Michaela lowered her eyes, not knowing how to reply.
"Hush now. The men are out lookin' for her," Faye spoke up, leading Byron over to his cot. "They'll find her before we know it."
* * *
Sully was traipsing through the woods nearby, certain that Katie couldn't have gone very far. Perhaps she had fallen asleep somewhere nearby. He needed to thoroughly search for signs of her close to the cabin first before he would be ready to go farther out.
With a sigh, Sully emerged from the trees and walked over to Brian. "Anything yet?" he asked, rubbing his gloved hands together.
"I can't find a trace, Pa," Brian replied, continuing his walk around the lake. "How 'bout you?"
"Nothin'," Sully murmured, scanning the still water worriedly.
Brian slowly met his eyes. He didn't think he and Sully had talked to each other this much since they had returned from San Francisco. As much as he still harbored anger toward him about the entire situation with Ethan, he sensed they had both pushed it aside for the time being. They were working together to find Katie, and everything else simply didn't matter anymore.
"It just don't make sense," Brian said, eyeing the ground again with fading hope. "How could she just disappear like this?" Suddenly he drew in his breath, falling to his knees and pushing aside a few decaying leaves. "Pa!"
"What do ya got?" he asked, eyes filling with alarm.
"It's hers," Brian murmured, slowly standing up and clutching the blue wool to his chest. "It's one of her mittens."
Sully's eyes darted back to the lake. "Katie!" he shouted.
Brian turned to face his father, face pale. "Pa...the lake. Did she...did she fall in?"
Sully put his arm around him, swallowing hard. "I don't know, Brian. This don't have to mean that."
The young man shook his head. "What do we do?"
Sully took the mitten from him, gripping it tightly in his hands and taking a few steps back. "Sound off the rifle. We should tell the men. Have 'em meet at the cabin."
"Where ya goin'?" Brian replied, cocking his rifle.
"Your ma's gotta know," he whispered, tucking the mitten in his coat pocket.
* * *
"What is it?" she demanded. "You found her? Sully!"
He slowly reached into his pocket, pulling out the soiled, damp mitten and placing it in her hands.
"Where was it?" she choked out.
He slowly caressed her arm. "At...at the shoreline."
"...No," she whispered. "No!" Suddenly she broke away from his grasp and ran to the lake.
"Michaela!" Sully called, chasing after her.
Men had already begun searching the banks for traces of where the little girl might have gone in. Michaela stumbled knee deep into the frigid water, gasping for air.
"Katie!" she screamed, clutching the mitten to her chest. "Katie! Katie!"
Sully caught up with her, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to the bank. "Michaela!"
She turned to face him, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. "Where is she, Sully?"
"We're gonna find her," he said weakly.
"Yes, washed up on shore," she said vehemently. "Or mauled by some animal or scalped by the Miwoks who you keep insisting are our friends!" She looked down at the mitten as tears of desperation continued. Overwhelmed, she fell to her knees, her back shuddering with the force of her primeval cries.
Helplessly, Sully squatted down and smoothed back her hair. "I'm sorry. Please, Michaela. I'm sorry."
She looked up angrily. "My little girl's gone because of this place."
"She's my little girl, too," he retorted, clenching his teeth against his heartache. "And maybe ya shoulda been watchin' her better."
"Me? I should have been watching her better?" she demanded. "It isn't safe here for a child! I turn my back for one moment and the woods swallow her whole! You're the one who brought us here. Why, Sully? Why are we here?"
Faye burst between the couple, clutching a thick towel. "Mrs. Sully! You're soaked to the bone!" she chastised, draping the towel over Michaela's shoulders. "Let's get back inside and out of these wet clothes."
Michaela slowly rose to her feet, numbly meeting the young woman's eyes. "She's in the lake, Faye."
"Nobody's been in that lake 'cept you," Faye scolded. "They'll find her just like they said. But standin' out here in the cold all wet ain't gonna do Katie one bit of good." She glanced at Sully. "We'll be fine."
"Thanks," Sully murmured, gently squeezing his wife's shoulder. "Go inside and get dry. I'm gonna keep lookin'. I won't quit, Michaela. I'll find her."
"Come on," Faye encouraged, wrapping her arm around Michaela's waist and leading her up the bank. "You can help me make some more coffee for everybody."
* * *
Faye had fallen asleep at the table an hour or so before. She had been so supportive all night, looking after Byron and Jack, making pot after pot of coffee and distracting Michaela with her endless chatter. Finally, exhaustion had caught up with her. Slowly her eyes had drooped closed, and Michaela hadn't protested. The young woman was always full of boundless energy, even now as she was nearing the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Michaela was so grateful Faye was with her and wasn't sure how she would have coped with everything without her, but she knew Faye desperately needed to rest and she wanted her to do so.
Michaela swallowed hard, her thoughts immediately returning to Katie. She was unable to prevent her mind from conjuring up horrifying images of all that might have happened to the child. She didn't think she could manage to stomach even a few sips of the coffee, let alone something more substantial.
Suddenly, she felt warm, comforting hands slip down her arms and embrace her warmly. Sully pressed his cheek to hers and gave her a soft, repentant kiss. "How ya doin'?" he whispered.
She drew in her breath shakily. "I didn't hear you come in. Have you...?"
"Not yet," he said.
"She was so upset with me. She just wanted me to look at her schoolwork, that's all," she said hoarsely. "All she wanted was for me to read her sentences. I could have done that, couldn't I?"
"It ain't your fault. It was an accident."
She let out a small whimper from deep within her chest. "Sully...our baby."
He held her tighter, closing his eyes. "Shh."
She fell into sobs, unable to hold them back any longer. Slowly, she turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him to her.
"It's gonna be all right," he choked, eyes filling with tears as he rocked her tenderly. "Shh. Shh."
She locked her arms around him, her tears falling faster.
"We'll get through this, Michaela," he whispered, kissing her head and taking a deep breath. "We'll get through this."
* * *
Faye immediately opened it, visibly tired but with a smile as cheerful as ever. "Mrs. Donovan! Come in!"
"Thaddeus came and told me what happened," she began, standing in place. "I thought I'd bring some stew for everybody."
Faye stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind her. "Smells real good."
"They find anythin' yet?" Carrie asked hesitantly.
"One of her mittens turned up last night," Faye murmured. "By the lake."
Carrie drew in her breath. "Oh, Lord. How is...how is Mrs. Sully holdin' up?"
Faye glanced at the cabin. "I can't get her to eat a thing. Or sleep for that matter. She's been sittin' up by the fire all night."
"Well, the Almighty will lend us strength to face what comes of this," Carrie said unsteadily.
"Why don't ya come inside and heat up the stew?" Faye suggested.
Carrie backed up a step, clutching the pot uncomfortably. "No, that's all right. I'll give it to you."
"Mrs. Donovan, now ain't the time to be hangin' onto grudges."
"I don't hold any grudges," Carrie said defensively. "I just need to be gettin' my youn'uns back home. We ain't even milked our cow yet and I know she's probably gettin' powerful cross by now. You can manage the stew. Just simmer it over the fire for a spell."
"The Almighty also says love thy neighbor," Faye replied, slowly taking the pot and balancing it against her side.
"I know what He says, Faye," Carrie retorted quickly. "But Mrs. Sully, well, she's a...a hardheaded soul to love."
"Ah, then you two were made for each other," Faye said wryly. "Thank you for bringin' this over. I'll be sure to let her know it was you that sent it."
"No need for that," Carrie blurted, grasping Jim and Luke's hands and stepping down from the porch. "But tell her...I'm prayin' for the little girl. I'm prayin' with all I got."
He spotted Michaela standing on their porch, weakly clutching a post as she watched him. Her eyes were blank with shock and grief. Faye stood by her, holding Michaela's arm securely as if she might collapse otherwise.
Without saying a word, Sully grasped Michaela gently by the hand and drew her to him in a stilted embrace.
"It was so bitter cold last night," she whispered against his shoulder. "I don't know how she could have...."
"I know," he murmured.
She closed her eyes, picturing their daughter wandering in circles for hours, shivering and crying, terrified by the various noises of the woods and calling for her parents until she had no strength.
"I couldn't find her," Sully went on forlornly. "I couldn't find her, Michaela. I promised ya."
Thaddeus stepped up to the couple, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Sully? I don't mean to disturb ya but...I been thinkin' things'll be a might bit quicker if we take your boat out. Would that be all right with you?"
Sully nodded, pressing Michaela's head to his shoulder as tears fell down her cheeks. "Do what ya gotta do."
"Just bring my child back to me," Michaela whispered. "Please, Thaddeus."
"It's just gonna take some time," he said, gently patting her back. "We're workin' as quick as we can. But we will."
"Injun!" one of the men resting nearby shouted suddenly, dropping his plate of stew to the ground and grabbing his rifle. "Injun!"
Within seconds, the men gathering outside the cabin had rifles, shotguns, axes and any weapon they could find in hand, and were pointing them fiercely at the Miwok standing at the edge of the trees. He stared back at them, jaw set, and walked forward several steps. In his arms, he cradled the little girl, wrapped in his bearskin and unmoving.
"Katie!" Michaela exclaimed. "Stop! Put your guns down!" She broke away from Sully and ran forward. "Katie!"
Thaddeus immediately grabbed her arm, swinging her back. "Hang on, ma'am. Let's do this proper."
"Katie!" she cried. "No, please! Let her go!" She looked at Sully for help.
"Put your guns away!" Thaddeus shouted forcefully, pushing down the barrel of the rifle of the man next to him. "Damn it! Listen to me! Put 'em away!"
Reluctantly, the workers lowered their weapons, nervously eyeing the Indian.
Sully raised his hands, showing the Indian he had no weapons. "Just put her down. Nobody's gonna hurt ya."
"Let me. Let me, please," Michaela begged, grabbing Thaddeus's arm. "I have to go to her. Please." Without waiting for consent, she tore away from the men and hurried over to the Indian. Hands trembling, she pushed the bearskin away from the child's face, afraid of what she might find. She let out her breath in an emotive gasp. Eyes closed, the little girl brought her hand up to her flushed cheek and sighed. She was simply fast asleep. Michaela met the Indian's eyes. "Please, give her back to me."
With a soft grunt, he carefully placed her in Michaela's arms. "Ohsa tie," he murmured, smoothing back Katie's hair.
Katie opened her eyes wearily. "Mama?"
Michaela held Katie tight, rocking her and kissing her head. "Katie. Oh, Katie. Thank God," she said tearfully. "I'm here. Oh, are you all right?"
"I'm so sleepy," Katie replied, hugging her mother's neck.
Michaela chuckled, holding her even tighter. "Yes, I imagine so. We'll get you to bed soon."
Thaddeus slowly walked over, Sully right behind him, their hands in the air.
The Indian met Thaddeus' eyes, recognizing him instantly. He spoke a few sentences in Miwok, his voice calm and mellow.
"He came across her, lost in the woods after sunset," Thaddeus explained, eyeing the Miwok cautiously. "She was so cold she couldn't hardly move. He picked her up, brought her back to his camp. The women got her warmed up and put some food in her."
"I just walked a little bit," Katie whispered. "When I looked back, I couldn't see the cabin. I called ya, Mama. I called hard as I could. You never came."
"Oh, sweetheart," Michaela murmured. "You must have been so frightened."
Sully rubbed her back, overwhelmed. "You're safe now, Kates. We're here."
The Miwok spoke a few more words, backing up a step.
"He brought her back here as soon as she was warm again," Thaddeus added.
Sully faced the Indian and slowly extended his hand. "Thank you. Thank you for doin' this."
The Miwok eyed Sully's hand tentatively, then ever so slowly, he clasped it with his, muttering a few more words.
"He says he's glad to have her back where she belongs," Thaddeus said.
Michaela glanced at Thaddeus. "Tell him if there's anything we can do for him, or for his people...anything, just tell us."
Thaddeus quickly translating for the Indian.
The Indian nodded softly in reply, removing a string of feathers from his neck and placing it over Katie's. He pressed his hand to her fair hair, then quickly spun around and walked back into the woods, disappearing.
* * *
"She's exhausted," Michaela remarked in a whisper, kissing the little girl's forehead as she slept on.
Sully kneeled beside her chair and gazed at the child's delicate features reverently. "She had some night."
"It was so kind of Harper's entire team to come out here and help," she added, the awkwardness between she and Sully heavy in the air.
No matter how grateful they were to have Katie back, it couldn't erase the harsh words they had exchanged at the lake when they thought all was lost. Michaela wanted to tell Sully she was sorry for being so cold to him. She didn't mean to blame him for Katie's disappearance. The truth was, however, she did blame him. For a while now, she had been developing a bitterness for the woods and all the dangers it presented. Now that those same woods had nearly stolen their child, she could no longer deny the distrust she felt for the place, and the growing resentment she felt toward Sully for moving them all there and promising her everything would be fine. Everything was not fine, and she was tired of denying it.
"Ya want me to stay home tomorrow?" he asked suddenly.
"No, of course not. We'll be all right," she said quickly.
"Michaela, if ya want me to stay, I can."
"I said we'll be all right," she whispered. "You can't take days off like that."
"All right," he murmured, swallowing. "It's gettin' late. I think I'll turn in. Ya gonna put her to bed?"
"Yes. I will," she said quietly. "I just want to feel her in my arms a little longer."
He nodded understandingly, giving Katie's cheek a gentle kiss. "'Night, sweet girl. I love ya." He raised his head and pecked Michaela lips ineptly. "'Night."
"Goodnight," she replied absently, eyes focused on Katie.
* * *
Sully chuckled knowingly, picking up a pencil and making a few notes on the blueprint.
The young man crossed his arms with frustration, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Then, last night, Sully. Ya won't believe this. It's three o'clock in the mornin' and she's awake again and wantin' somethin' to eat! Says she's famished! I says, Faye, honey, it's the middle of the night. Oh, but no. She's hungry. And guess who ends up gettin' roped into fixin' her somethin'? You guessed it. Me."
Sully gave his back an encouraging pat. "Hang in there, Kirk."
"Sully, I love that woman somethin' powerful," he went on. "But I tell ya, these past few days have really been wearin' on me. Don't know if it's supposed to be like this."
"It's all right, Kirk. That all sounds pretty normal," Sully said reassuringly. "Won't be too much longer and you're gonna have that baby in your arms. I promise."
Kirk slowly smiled. "Yeah. You're right. We're gonna have our little boy."
Sully rolled up the blueprint and handed it to him. "That's right. Just keep thinkin' about that. Come on. I'll take ya over to meet Galen Clark."
"Galen Clark?" Kirk blurted, tucking the blueprint under his arm. "Who's Galen Clark?"
"Who's Galen Clark?" Sully said with an amused grin. "He's the reason we're here."
"Well, let's meet him then," Kirk said, picking his hat up off the table and pushing it onto his head.
* * *
"Good morning," he said half-heartedly.
"Mornin'," Sully replied, leading Kirk up to the desk. "I'd like ya to meet the newest member of the team. This is Kirk Davis."
Galen extended his hand, quickly shaking with him. "Galen Clark. Glad to have you aboard, Kirk."
"Yes, sir," Kirk replied, patting his hand firmly.
Sully took the blueprint from Kirk and laid it on the desk. "This is the next lodge we'll be puttin' up. Harper thought ya might wanna take a look."
"Thank you, Sully," Galen replied, picking up his pencil and resting his forehead on one hand. "I'll have to go over it another time. I'm quite busy."
"Oh," Sully said. "I'll come back later."
"Oh, no, no. That's all right. I just can't make heads or tails of all this," he replied, throwing one hand in the air.
"What're ya doin' if ya don't mind my askin'?" Sully said curiously.
Galen sat back in his chair, pulling out a pipe from his pocket and lighting it. "Tryin' to secure a business deal. Only problem is, I've always been a terrible businessman. I've mortgaged my own home twice I'm embarrassed to say. Actually, perhaps you two could be of some help. I need a second opinion."
"What sort of business deal, sir?" Kirk spoke up, eyeing the papers.
Galen slowly puffed on his pipe, rubbing his temples. "Well, it has to do with shares of this construction company, son. If we sell out shares to investors, we can do a lot more for this park. In short, we can make a lot more money. More money means a better park."
"Sounds like a good idea," Sully remarked. "But what's the trouble?"
"No trouble, really. Fellow out in San Francisco, he's interested in buying out fifty percent of the shares," Galen said. "Sounds pretty wealthy. He could mean a lot for this company and this park. I just want to make sure I've read all the fine print, so to speak, before I close the deal."
Sully eyed the paper cautiously. "This fella, what's his name?"
"His name? Cooper, I believe," Galen replied, flipping through some papers. "Yes, Cooper."
"Ethan Cooper?" Sully questioned.
"Yes, that sounds right. Do you know him?" Galen asked, sitting straighter.
"I know 'im," Sully muttered. "Don't make deals with him, Mr. Clark. It's a mistake, believe me."
"Don't make deals with him?" Galen repeated. "Why ever not? Mr. Sully, the man's rich. Do you realize what an opportunity this could be?"
"Fifty percent of the shares. That's hard to pass up, Sully," Kirk added.
"He's a swindler," Sully contended.
"Oh? What makes you think that?" Galen asked.
"Look, take my word for it," Sully said. "Ethan does things for Ethan, not for some park. Ya don't want somebody like him ownin' that much of this company."
"I see no evidence this man is a swindler," Galen objected. "We have to think about the park. We have to think about Yosemite. Whether you like him or not is of little relevance. As I said, I admit I know very little about these matters, but I have learned that business is strictly business."
Sully took the blueprint back from him. "Ya asked for my opinion, ya got it."
"You seem to have some sort of personal issue with Mr. Cooper," Galen said perceptively. "Perhaps you could resolve it before we enter into this contract with him."
Sully swallowed, not wanting to push Galen anymore. He was set on doing business with Ethan, and whatever Sully said he knew was too late.
"Thank you for your help, gentlemen," Galen went on, picking up his pen and dipping it into the inkwell. "It was much appreciated."
* * *
Michaela turned over in bed, grasping Sully's arm. "Who could that be?" she asked hoarsely.
Sully swung his legs out of bed and stood up, pulling back the sheets surrounding their bed. "I'll go see." He peeked out on the front window. "It's Kirk."
"Kirk?" Michaela sat up and grabbed her bathrobe lying on the end of bed, glancing across the room to see Brian rousing from sleep at the commotion.
Sully pulled back the wooden board across the door and opened it, stepping out onto the porch.
"Sully, ya gotta help!" Kirk immediately said, his hair damp with sweat.
Sully grabbed the doorframe. "What's wrong? Catch your breath."
Kirk inhaled sharply, running his hand across his brow. "Faye needs help. Your wife ever delivered a baby before? Please say she has."
Michaela appeared in the doorway. "How long has she been in labor, Kirk?"
He shook his head. "I don't know, ma'am. Since this mornin' I guess. Ya gotta come right off. Ya gotta hurry. She's been bleedin' some. Is she gonna die?"
"A little blood's normal, Kirk," Michaela said, returning to the bed and quickly finding a skirt and blouse in the trunk.
Brian got out of his cot, grabbed Michaela's medical bag off one of the shelves and crossed the room, placing it on the bed. "Here ya go, Ma."
"Thank you," she replied. "I don't know how long we'll be. You know where Jack's bottles and diapers are."
"We'll be fine. I'll look after everybody until ya get back," he said.
Sully grabbed his jacket off the front coat rack. "I'll hitch the wagon." He glanced at Kirk, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. "Dr. Mike's delivered hundreds of babies. Everything's gonna be fine."
"Just hurry, Sully," Kirk implored. "Please, hurry."
* * *
"Contractions? What's that?" Faye asked.
"I mean the pangs. How far apart are they?" Michaela asked.
"Oh, those. I got no idea. Real close for a long time now," Faye said disinterestedly. She weakly grabbed Michaela's blouse sleeve. "The baby. Is he all right?"
"Just one moment," Michaela replied calmly, shifting to the end of the bed and unclasping her medical bag. "Can you bend your knees? I just want to see how far along you are."
"I've been tryin' not to push," Faye said, gently clutching her belly with one hand as she raised her knees. "I wanted to wait for Kirk to get back."
Michaela drew in her breath as she pushed back the blankets. The sheets were soaked through with blood. More than normal, Michaela immediately thought, though now was not the time to let Faye know that. "Just take some slow breaths. This shouldn't hurt," she instructed, slipping two fingers between the girl's legs and placing her other hand atop her belly. "That's good, Faye. You're ready to have this baby. You did just fine."
"Oh, I don't think so," Faye suddenly blurted, falling into tears. "Nothin's goin' like I planned, Mrs. Sully. The pain don't feel a thing like what I expected. It's all down in my back somethin' fierce. 'Sides, he ain't even supposed to be here for another couple weeks. Kirk don't have the cradle finished. We was gonna paint it and have it done up real nice."
Michaela pulled out her stethoscope and pressed the cool bell to Faye's belly. Just as she had anticipated, she found the heartbeat high up toward the girl's chest, a sign she couldn't ignore. "Nothing ever goes like we planned. What's important is I can hear your baby and everything sounds fine."
"Ya sure? His heart's beatin' strong and all?"
"Yes, very strong," Michaela reassured her, removing her stethoscope and drawing closer to Faye. She brought both her hands to the girl's belly and scrutinized what she felt carefully.
"I don't know about all this," Faye went on desperately. "I had a lot of time to think today and I reckon I changed my mind. I don't want to have a baby after all. So I'm sorry I had to wake ya'll up like this in the middle of the night. Yes, indeed. I changed my mind. No baby tonight for sure."
"It's all right. Everything will be over soon," Michaela said, finding Faye's words all too familiar but knowing the girl would soon have her son in her arms and nothing else would matter then. "The pain, it's centralized in your back you said? Faye, I need you to help me. Where is the pain?"
Faye nodded tearfully. "Down real low. I had Kirk rubbin' there all afternoon. That didn't do one bit of good. He brought me a hot compress for it, too, and helped me into all sorts of positions just like the midwife told me I should do. She was wrong. Nothin' helped."
Michaela clasped her hand. "The baby's resting upside down, Faye. That probably explains the back pain. And the prolonged labor."
"Upside down?" Faye blurted, her breath quickening.
"Normally, we like to see babies deliver head first," Michaela explained patiently. "But I think your little boy must want to be different. His head is up in your ribs instead. You can probably feel it."
Faye nodded anxiously. "I feel it. I been feelin' it for months. Is that bad?"
Michaela gently squeezed her hand. "I'd like to get him in the right position if we can. It's going to be uncomfortable, you'll experience a lot of pressure, and it might not even work, but I want to at least try."
Faye shook her head fearfully. She grabbed the corner of her pillow and let out a startled cry as an intense contraction engulfed her belly.
"That's it, Faye. You're doing wonderful," Michaela assured her, placing her stethoscope back in her ears. "Just try to keep calm. Everything's going to be fine."
Another wave of discouraged tears fell down the young woman's cheeks. "Mrs. Sully, ya gotta help my baby. Please. Please."
Michaela patted her hand. "I know this is frightening. But I'm right with you and I'm going to do everything I can to ensure your baby gets here safely. I promise."
* * *
"How's Faye?" he asked. "How's the baby?"
"Somethin' wrong?" Sully spoke up, eyeing Michaela worriedly.
"What's wrong?" Kirk demanded.
"The baby's breech, Kirk," Michaela explained calmly. "It's presenting backside first. I did my best but I can't turn it."
Kirk drew in his breath. "Now what?"
"Ya gonna have to operate, Michaela?" Sully spoke up.
"I would, but I don't have all of the right instruments or someone to assist me. It's very dangerous to begin with."
"I can assist ya," Sully immediately said. "Tell me what to do."
"Thank you, Sully, but I believe given the circumstances it's safest to attempt to deliver it breech," she replied. "I think I can do it but I'll need your help. Both of you."
"What if this doesn't work? What do ya mean ya think ya can?" Kirk asked. "What if ya can't?"
"Then we'll talk about operating," she replied quickly, opening the door.
Sully followed Kirk to the bed, eyeing Faye uncertainly. She was pale, quiet and hardly seemed to notice their presence. Michaela had worked on her for fifteen minutes, carefully pushing and tugging on her belly in a vain attempt to coax the baby's head down into his mother's pelvis. Faye barely made a noise throughout the ordeal, but grew visibly more exhausted and was losing more blood by the minute. Finally, Michaela had forced a cheerful smile, covered the girl with another warm blanket and tucked several towels beneath her. The baby wasn't going to turn no matter how hard she tried. It was time to move to the next alternative.
"I thought you were havin' a midwife come," Sully spoke up quietly. He immediately sensed things weren't good. Whatever confidence Michaela was displaying was for the benefit of Kirk and his wife. The last thing she needed was for them to lose what little control they were hanging onto.
"She left," Kirk explained. "Said it wasn't the real thing and to come get her when it was."
"Oh, this is the real thing," Michaela replied. She took a seat at the end of the bed, her medical bag open and beside her, and pushed a towel up over Faye's thighs. "I don't have stirrups with me. Help hold her legs back."
Sully circled the bed and grasped Faye's cool, quivering knee with one hand and her foot with the other, bracing it against his chest. "This good, Michaela?"
"That's fine," she replied, one hand digging into her medical bag. "Kirk, I need you to support your wife's other leg."
"She's shakin' all over," he said anxiously, touching his fingers to the young woman's shoulder. "What's wrong with her? Faye, honey."
"Nothing's wrong, Kirk. It just means the baby's coming down," Michaela answered quickly.
Sully glanced at his friend. What Kirk needed now was a level head that Sully felt ready to provide. The fact that he'd been through it all before with Michaela, knew what was going through Kirk's head and knew how much he needed reassurance, boosted his confidence.
"Kirk, listen to Michaela. She knows what she's doin'," Sully spoke up resolutely.
Kirk looked up briefly, then took hold of Faye's knee, holding it tightly in his hands.
"That's good, Kirk," Michaela encouraged. "Just try to keep her from shaking. She'll be more comfortable that way. That's good."
Kirk eyed his wife fearfully, reaching one hand up to smooth back her hair. "Sully says she knows what she's doin'," he said reassuringly. "Hush now. Everything's gonna be fine, darlin'."
Faye reached up and clasped his shirtsleeve. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Faye," Michaela admonished. "Just try to listen to what I tell you, all right?" She reached into her bag and pulled out an intimidating pair of scissors and another clean cloth.
"What're ya doin'?" Kirk demanded. "What're those for?"
Michaela paused to meet Faye's eyes, the steadiness in her voice serving to keep her calm. "It's a simple procedure called an episiotomy. It'll heal easier than a tear. I'm just going to make a small incision to give you a little more room down here, all right, Faye? Take a deep breath." She glanced at Sully. "Hold her."
Sully clenched his teeth hard as Faye let out a grating scream. He focused on Michaela who gave him an encouraging nod as she set the blood-marked scissors on another cloth she had laid at her side.
Kirk struggled to keep back tears as he watched his wife whimper and recoil in pain. "That hurt her. You're hurtin' her," he said angrily.
"I can see it. It's a girl, Kirk," Michaela spoke up. "She's almost here."
He drew in his breath, glancing up in disbelief. "It's a girl? But we thought it was a boy." He grasped his wife's shoulder. "Faye, we didn't pick out any girl names!"
"You'll think of somethin'," Sully said with a soft grin.
"Ya sure it's a little girl?" Kirk said eagerly.
"Positive," Michaela affirmed. "You can look if you'd like."
Kirk shook his head firmly. "No, thanks. Just get her born, all right?"
"We will," Michaela replied. She placed her hand on Faye's belly, feeling for the telltale hardening and tightening of a contraction. "Faye? I know it's painful but your baby's almost here. Bear down when you have a contraction. You can do it. Trust your body, remember?"
Nodding determinedly, Faye curled forward and pursed her lips, tightening her hold on Kirk's shirt.
Sully held his breath as he watched Michaela's face. Her concentration never once failed. Her eyebrows raised, she bit her lip firmly and wrinkled her brow where a trace of perspiration had formed. All the while, her voice gently but resolutely encouraged Faye on. Moments later, she let out a relieved chuckle, the expression on her face one of triumph. Sully was immediately put at ease.
"Congratulations," Sully whispered, gently lowering Faye's leg to the bed and watching as Michaela laid the little girl, pink and shimmering, up on her mother's belly.
Faye opened her eyes and tentatively touched the baby's head, affording herself a soft smile.
"What's wrong? Why ain't she cryin'?" Kirk spoke up hoarsely.
"Just give her a minute," Michaela said, reaching her hand up and massaging the baby's back with a towel. She glanced at Kirk. "Here. Rub her back."
"I don't wanna hurt her," he said, reluctantly taking the towel.
"Ya won't hurt her," Sully said encouragingly. "It helps get her crying."
Michaela put her stethoscope back in her ears and pressed the bell to the baby's tiny chest just as it let out a brisk squall. "Oh. There we are. You didn't want to turn for us, did you, sweetheart? You were quite stubborn."
"Is she all right?" Faye spoke up.
"She sounds perfect. Her lungs are clear and her heart's strong," Michaela said, placing her stethoscope around her neck. "I'd say she looks a good seven pounds. That's very healthy." She reached into her bag and found her clamps, securing them to the cord and then reaching for her scissors. "Cut just there, Papa," she instructed, handing Kirk the scissors. "Right between the clamps."
Kirk leaned forward, eyeing the cord uncertainly.
"Be careful, Kirk," Faye said, grasping the tail of his shirt.
Cautiously, he cut through the cord, drawing in his breath in awe.
"She's all yours now," Sully said, standing up as Michaela swaddled the baby in a warm towel.
"I don't know what to do with her," Faye whispered. She smoothed back the baby's red-tinted hair and kissed her head. "Oh, you're so tiny."
"So far you've done everything just fine," Michaela said reassuringly. She pulled from her medical bag a yellow knit cap of Jack's she had thought to bring at the last moment. Gently, she nudged it onto the baby's head.
Kirk knelt beside the bed, gazing at his wife in admiration. "A girl, Faye. Don't this beat all?"
She gently clasped his neck and gave him a small kiss. "She's got hair just like her daddy."
"A girl," he said with a laugh. "I can't believe it, darlin'. She's here. You're a wonder, ya know that? Ya did good, darlin'. Look at her. She's...she's just perfect, honey."
Faye smiled proudly, clasping the baby's tiny fingers in hers.
"She's a pretty little thing," Kirk went on, overwhelmed. "Ain't she pretty, Sully?"
"Sure is," Sully replied, grinning at Michaela. "I'd keep her if I was you."
"Well, I reckon we might as well." Kirk slowly stood up, smoothing back his hair and taking a step toward Michaela. "Thanks, Mrs. Sully."
Michaela smiled. "It's...Dr. Mike. That's what everyone calls me back at home."
He extended his hand, returning the smile. "Yeah. Thank you, Dr. Mike."
Michaela grasped his hand tightly. "It was my pleasure, Kirk." With her stethoscope around her neck and Faye and the baby in front of her, both fairing wonderfully, she felt as if she was practically at home. She had forgotten how good it was to hear someone calling her Dr. Mike. She had forgotten how well she was able to perform under intense pressure, how it even spurred her to do better. Months apart from her clinic had certainly not quelled her passion for medicine. If anything, she now loved it more.
"I want a bow in it," Katie instructed, holding up a pink ribbon. "This one."
"Pink?" Brian blurted. "But your dress is red, Katie. It ain't gonna match."
"I want this one," she insisted, holding it up higher. "Please? Please?"
He sighed, taking it from her and tying back her hair with it. "If that's what ya want. There ya go. All set."
Byron hopped down from his cot, shuffling over to his older brother, his boots loose and unlaced on his feet. "Brian. Brian, tie me, please. Tie me. Tie me."
"B., I told ya to stay with Jack," Brian scolded. "Go sit back on your bed with him."
"Why do I got to?" Byron demanded, sinking back onto his mattress with a frown and putting his arm around the baby. "He's not going anywhere."
"He might fall," Brian insisted. "Ya gotta watch him. 'Sides, you're his big brother. It's part of your job."
Jack clutched Byron's puppy to his chest and let out a delighted giggle at the little boy's frown.
"I guess he's a good little brother," Byron muttered, slowly relenting.
"Sure is. And you're doin' a good job," Brian said reassuringly, crouching down and lacing up one of the little boy's boots. "It's real nice of ya to share your toys with him. He likes that."
"As long as he don't mess up my puppy or get drool on it," Byron replied firmly.
"Brian? How long is it gonna take Faye to have a baby?" Katie asked curiously.
Brian shrugged, lacing the last boot and standing up. "I don't know. Ma said it could be awhile."
"Faye should hurry up," Byron said.
"I don't think Faye has much say in that, B.," Brian said with a chuckle, heading for the door and opening it. "I got a few chores to do. I gotta bring some water up for breakfast and take care of the animals. I want you two to stay in here and play with Jack. Just call if ya need me."
The children nodded agreeably, gathering around the baby and watching him protectively.
"Babies sure don't do much," Byron remarked, heaving a sigh. "I don't know why Faye's gotta have one."
"It better not be a boy," Katie said firmly. "All there is here is boys."
"That's 'cause everybody likes us," Byron shot back smugly. "Who wants a girl anyway?"
"I do!" Katie retorted.
A brisk knock on the window startled them both.
"Mama's home!" Byron immediately exclaimed, rushing to the door and throwing it open.
Jim and Luke stood on the porch, hats in their hands.
"Hey, Byron!" Luke said, stepping inside. "We saw your wagon missin' and figured maybe your folks weren't around."
"We peeked in the window and saw it was just you," Jim added. "Just like we thought."
"Mama and Papa went to Faye's," Byron explained. "Faye decided she's gonna have her baby in the middle of the night!"
"Women. Ya can't count on them for a second," Luke muttered, shaking his head.
"You aren't allowed to come in," Katie spoke up cautiously from the bed. "We're not allowed to play together."
"Oh, Katie. Nobody's gonna know," Jim chastised.
Katie stood up. "No, you can't. Mama said no. We'll get in trouble. Byron, don't let them in!"
"I don't know," Byron murmured, clutching the doorframe. "Maybe you better go."
Luke crouched down to his level. "Are you gonna let your sister boss you around, Byron? Tell her ya don't gotta listen."
Byron bit his lip. "But she's bigger."
"Not by much," Jim told him. "And 'sides, you're the man here. Come on, you be the boss."
"Yeah," Luke agreed. "My pa is the boss in our family. Ma better do what he says. The same goes for you and Katie."
"I don't have to do anything he says!" Katie exclaimed.
"Yes, you do," Luke said. "You're just a girl."
"Am not," Katie said sulkily, tears falling down her cheeks. "I mean-"
Jim giggled, crossing the room to the table. "Come on. I'll teach ya the card trick now."
"Jim, Luke! How'd ya get in here?" Brian said, stepping into the room with a bucket of water in hand. He glanced at his little sister. "Why's Katie cryin'?"
"'Cause I'm the boss," Byron told him matter-of-factly.
Brian put the bucket on the table. "I don't think anybody bosses Katie, B." He turned back to the older children. "Ya best go home now before our ma sees ya here."
Byron tugged on his hand hopefully. "Could they stay just for a little bit? We never get to play with them. Ever. Come on, Brian. Please?"
Brian sighed, resting his hand on his shoulder. "Well...I s'pose they could stay for breakfast. If they promise to go right afterwards. But we'd have to keep it a secret."
"Yippie!" Byron exclaimed.
"Thanks, Brian," Luke said.
"Sure," Brian replied. "Just don't tell anybody. It'll be just between us."
"I'll stop by tomorrow and see how you both are doing," Michaela said, patting Faye's hand and standing up.
Kirk stood beside the bed and watched his wife and daughter reverently. Sully didn't think he had ever seen a prouder father, except perhaps for himself. Kirk had barely taken his eyes off the two for the past few hours. He paced and fretted when the baby cried and insisted on being right with Faye while Michaela stitched the episiotomy.
With the exception of Sully, Michaela had seen most fathers shy away from so much as touching the infant, at least in her presence. However, upon Michaela's encouragement, Kirk even sat down for a few minutes and held the tiny little girl.
"I want you to take it slow," Michaela added. "You're going to need to stay in bed for at least a few days."
"All right, Dr. Mike," Faye said, suddenly growing tearful as she kissed the baby's head. "I will."
"What's wrong?" Michaela asked, taking her jacket from Sully and slipping her arms into the sleeves. "It's only for a few days. You'll want to give your body proper time to heal."
"It ain't that," Faye murmured, eyes focused on the baby guiltily. "It's just...I don't have a name for her. She was supposed to be Dan."
Sully rested his hand around Michaela's waist. "Give it time. Somethin'll come to ya."
"It's my fault," Kirk spoke up. "I shoulda had us pick out a girl name. Just in case. Now here she is and her ma and pa don't have one name in their heads to give her."
Michaela watched the baby thoughtfully for a moment, picking up her medical bag and tucking it under her arm. "You said you wanted to name the baby after Faye's father. Perhaps you can still do that."
"How?" Faye questioned, looking up.
"Well, you could call her Danielle," Michaela replied. "I think that's a lovely name."
Kirk nodded slowly. "It's awful sweet soundin'. Kinda different, too."
Faye gradually smiled. "Danielle. Oh, that is pretty."
Kirk knelt beside the bed, carefully reaching his hand out to caress his daughter's cheek. "What do ya think? How's Danielle sound to ya?"
The baby blinked tiredly at him, pursing her lips and letting out a soft grunt.
"I think she likes it," Sully said.
Michaela gently patted Kirk's back. "I'll see you tomorrow. If you need anything in the meantime you can come get me."
* * *
"Is it a girl?" Katie asked, eyes wide with anticipation.
Michaela smiled and gave her a hug. "Good morning, Katie."
"Mornin', but what is it, Mama? A girl?" Katie pressed impatiently.
"Yes, it's a girl!" Michaela replied.
Katie beamed. "Oh, goodie!"
Brian carried Jack down from the porch, Byron following him. "Faye all right, Ma?"
"Yes, she and the baby are both doing wonderful," Michaela replied. "They named her Danielle."
"I guess a girl is gonna be all right," Byron said. "Katie is the only one here."
"Well, ya need to get some rest," Brian said, eyeing his parents decisively. "Katie, get the lunch basket. Let's get going."
"Going where?" Michaela asked as Katie scurried back inside.
"We thought ya might like a little quiet to catch up on some sleep," Brian said. "We're gonna go on a picnic."
Michaela glanced at Sully with surprise. "Oh, Brian. You don't have to do that."
Brian smiled as Katie came back outside with a large basket in her hands. "No trouble. We'll be home this afternoon."
"Bye-bye, Mama. Have a good time," Byron said, hugging her waist.
Michaela chuckled and kissed his head. "You have a good time, too. Be careful."
Sully gave Byron and Katie a hug. "Take care of your little brother."
"We will," Brian said as they headed for the path in the woods. "See ya later."
Michaela and Sully waved and watched the children until they were out of sight. Finally, they turned and walked inside, joining hands and strolling over to the bed.
Michaela filled the basin on the nightstand with water and washed her face as Sully unbuttoned his shirt and laid it at the end of the bed.
"Katie's so happy they had a girl," Michaela said with a soft chuckle as she patted her face dry with a towel. "I think we really disappointed her with Jack."
"She was pleased," Sully said, circling the bed and unlacing the strip of rawhide she had tied back her hair with.
Michaela closed her eyes tiredly. "I'm glad you came with me, Sully. You really helped me keep them calm."
He turned her toward him, giving her head a soft kiss. "You're a wonder yourself."
She gently clutched his arms, letting out a sigh. "We're lucky things turned out so well. I would have operated if I could. I would never dare try to deliver a baby like that at the clinic. So many things can go wrong."
He eyed her hesitantly, raising his hands to her neckline and unbuttoning her blouse. "Well, they didn't."
"Yes, thankfully. I just wish Faye had allowed me to examine her earlier. I could have seen this coming and perhaps turned the baby before it was too late."
"You did the best ya could. Ya can't force people into things," Sully said sensibly, slipping the blouse down her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. "What are we gonna do with ourselves, now that it's finally just us in here?"
"We're supposed to be sleeping," she said, grinning up at him mischievously.
"I ain't tired anymore," he whispered, dipping his head and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Are you?"
She brought her hands up to his neck enticingly, her grin widening. "I'm exhausted. I want to sleep."
He scooped her off her feet and placed her on the bed, crawling up beside her and nuzzling her neck.
She giggled, pushing on his chest and forcing him to his back. "Well, perhaps I could put off sleep for a few minutes."
"Just a few minutes?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows and tickling her neck. "Ya must not have much faith in me."
She smiled and leaned over him, caressing his hair. "Sully? Were you thinking about our children? When Danielle was born."
"Some," he whispered. "Mostly I was thinkin' about you. How good ya are at what ya do."
"I just did what I knew how," she replied.
He caressed her cheek. "And I was also thinkin' that ya got yourself some patients now."
She smiled, the thought never having crossed her mind until Sully pointed it out. "Yes, you're right. I do. I have patients."
"See, I told ya. Folks out here just need some time to warm up to ya."
"Well, let's not overstate this, Sully. One family willing to let me examine them hardly means everyone has warmed up to me."
"But folks'll hear about how ya saved that baby's life," Sully said assuredly. "Sooner than ya know it everybody'll want to come to ya."
"Mm-hm," she whispered.
Sully chuckled, drawing her closer. "But before ya start seeing to all those patients, I think we both need to get some sleep."
"I like that idea," Michaela whispered wryly, pressing her lips to his and running her fingers up his chest.
He shifted farther up, suddenly letting out a startled groan and arching his back.
"Sully? What's wrong?" Michaela immediately asked.
"Somethin's pokin' me in the side," he said, reaching behind him and pulling out the wooden engine to Jack's train. He waved it in the air with a smirk.
Michaela chuckled, taking it from him and setting it on the night table. "They're still interrupting us, and they aren't even here."
"No more interruptions. I want ya all to myself this time," he said, growling good-naturedly as he turned her over on her back and claimed her lips once more in a loving caress.
"Sometimes it seems like this winter is never going to end," Michaela said, handing Katie the last breakfast plate to dry.
Byron climbed up onto a chair at the table and clutched the back of it. "Mama, what's Danielle look like? No hair and all squished up and little like when Jack got born?"
"Yeah, tell us, Ma," Brian said, crossing the room and sitting beside his little brother.
Michaela turned from the sink and reached behind her waist, untying her apron. "Well, she has a little hair. It's red just like Kirk's. She's very sweet. She has pink lips and cheeks, and tiny fingers and toes."
"Eyes like me, Mama?" Katie asked, standing on her toes and stacking the plate on one of the shelves above the sink.
Michaela folded her apron and laid it on the counter. "I'm not sure. I don't think she had opened her eyes yet."
"Could we go see her?" Katie asked. "I want to see."
"I'm going out there again this afternoon. I suppose you could come with me. Would you like that?" Michaela asked.
"Yeah," Katie said with a wide smile.
"We better get our schoolwork done then," Byron said, sliding down from his chair and walking to the crate that held their school supplies.
"Wait, Byron," Michaela called, a mischievous smile on her face.
Byron lifted up the crate. "Come on, Mama. Let's get it done so we can go see Danielle."
Michaela bit her lip. "What would you think about having a day off today? A day off from school."
"A day off?" Brian echoed. "What for?"
Michaela walked over to Byron and took the crate from him, putting it back in its place. "Well, we've been working very hard lately. When was the last time we played a game together, or read a book? Or had a picnic?"
"A picnic?" Brian blurted. "How we gonna have a picnic? It's freezin' outside."
"We can have it inside!" Byron shouted excitedly.
"Exactly, Byron," Michaela said with a laugh, lifting Jack from his highchair and giving him a kiss. "Go take the quilt off of Mama's bed. We can lay it in front of the fire."
"Can we play leapfrog?" Katie asked, eyes brightening.
"I suppose we could," Michaela replied. "If we're careful!"
"I don't understand, Ma," Brian said. "Ya always say we gotta do our studies. That we'll get behind if we don't work hard."
Byron trooped back to the group with the quilt and Michaela helped him spread it out on the floor.
"Yes, but everyone deserves a day off once in a while," Michaela replied, sitting down on her knees and settling Jack in her lap. Delivering Faye and Kirk's child had filled her with an exhilaration and optimism she hadn't felt all year. In less than two months, Sully's contract with Harper would be complete, they could leave the snowy, frigid, mountainous terrain of Yosemite and go back to Colorado. She would see the town, the homestead, the clinic and their friends again. She would be a doctor again. Michaela was newly confident she could make it through the last few months. They had come this far and they might as well make the most of the time remaining.
"A day off. All right," Brian said, smiling. "I s'pose you're right. What should we do first?"
"Play cards!" Byron said, taking the deck off the mantel and clutching them to his chest. "I'll show ya my trick, Mama."
"B., Ma don't wanna see that," Brian said quickly, clearing his throat. "Let's put the cards away."
"Of course I want to see it, Brian," Michaela said. "Why wouldn't I? Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me."
"Pick one," Byron told her, thrusting the deck in her direction and covering his eyes with his free hand. "Don't let me peek."
Michaela pulled the ten of hearts from the deck and glanced at it. "All right. I have one."
"Now put it back in real tight," he instructed. "Don't show me. Don't let me peek."
"I won't," she said with a grin, sliding the card back into the deck and preparing to humor the little boy. "Now what? Are you going to tell me what it was?"
"Yep," he replied, putting his hands behind his back and quickly coming up with a card. He whipped his hands back in front of him and showed her the ten of hearts. "This it?"
Michaela stared at it, mouth dropping open.
"Mama, is this it?" he pressed impatiently.
Michaela slowly took the card from him, glancing at Brian in disbelief. "Yes, this is my card. How did you do that, Byron? Who taught you that? Sweetheart, how did you do that? How did you...?"
Byron giggled. "It's magic."
"Did you teach him that, Brian?" Michaela asked, pulling the card away as the baby tried to grab it.
"Don't look at me," Brian said.
"Byron, someone must have taught you that," Michaela said. "That was a wonderful trick, sweetheart, but someone must have taught you. Not your papa. Was it Papa?"
Byron swallowed hard. "It was Jim," he said in a whisper.
"What? Jim?" Michaela replied, blinking. "Jim Donovan?"
Byron nodded guiltily. "He's good at magic."
"Ma, it was my fault," Brian spoke up, voice hoarse. "I had the boys come in for breakfast the other day while you were still helpin' Faye."
"I told 'em not to," Katie added matter-of-factly.
"Brian, you know they aren't supposed to come here," Michaela scolded. "I can't believe you did that. What if something had happened?"
He swallowed. "I was just wonderin'...well, why can't they come over anyway? They were real good when they were here yesterday. Even helped us clear the table."
"You know Mrs. Donovan and I agreed it would be best the children didn't see each other," Michaela began firmly. "Jim and Luke, they're...they're too old for Katie and Byron. They're ready to swim and climb trees on their own and Katie and Byron aren't. That just means trouble."
"We could look for things they all can do," Brian said. "Things like fishin', maybe. I'd help ya watch 'em, Ma. I wouldn't mind. They won't find themselves lookin' for trouble again."
"I'm afraid this isn't open for discussion, Brian," Michaela said uncomfortably.
"All right," Brian murmured. "I'm sorry, Ma."
"I'm sorry, Ma," Byron added plaintively.
"Ma?" Michaela blurted, eyeing the little boy with raised eyebrows. "Where did that come from, Byron?"
"That's what Jim and Luke call their mama," Byron replied simply.
"Yes, but you're not Jim or Luke, thank heaven for that," Michaela muttered, drawing him to her side. "You've always called me Mama, sweetheart. I don't want you to stop."
"But they're big boys," he protested.
"Precisely. Too big for us," Michaela replied, kissing his head. Just two more months, she thought. Two more months and they could go home.
"What's wrong with their cow, Ma?" Brian spoke up, eyeing the restless animal behind the pen. She was stamping her foot uncomfortably, tossing her head and letting out low, drawn-out groans.
"That's strange. She acts like she hasn't been milked," Michaela said, slowing her steps.
Brian walked over to the fence, shifting Jack to his hip. "She don't got any water in her bucket. And her pen ain't been cleaned either. Maybe Faye's been busy with the baby and don't got time."
"Why don't you take care of her, Brian," Michaela said, lifting Jack into her arms. "I think Faye would appreciate that."
"Sure thing," he said. "Katie, B.? Wanna help?"
"Go on," Michaela said, taking the basket from Byron. "Help your brother."
The children followed Brian into the pen obediently as Michaela knocked on the door of the tiny cabin. "Faye? It's Dr. Mike."
"Come in," Faye called back.
Michaela opened the door, letting out a startled breath. Faye's once neat and tidy cabin was close to shambles. The bed was unmade, breakfast dishes sat on the table and in the sink, a basket cluttered with laundry stood by the door and empty cans were scattered on the counter.
Faye was sitting at the table, her sleeves rolled up and a damp towel draped over her shoulder as she patted the baby's back after a feeding. "Hey, Dr. Mike."
"Faye...what happened?" Michaela asked, quickly crossing the room and coming to the young woman's side. She sat Jack on the floor, taken aback by the dust and dirt that had gathered on the floorboards.
Faye looked up exhaustedly, wisps of hair falling from her loose braid. "I...I don't know," she began. "I've been up with her since before sunrise. If she don't want to nurse she wants a diaper change, and if that ain't it she wants me to walk her or burp her or pick her up or put her down or Lord knows what all else." She shook her head desperately. "I ain't had time for a decent bath in days. Every time I start fillin' the tub she's cryin' again and I have to tend to her."
"Give her to me," Michaela said, taking the baby from Faye and cradling her in her arms. "Go ahead and have a bath. I'll watch her."
"Oh, Dr. Mike. Thank you," Faye said, slowly falling into tears. "I just...I feel downright awful. I ain't a good ma at all. Not like you. I don't know what I'm doin' half the time."
"Don't be silly. You're a fine mother, Faye," Michaela said, putting the basket on the table and pulling back the lace cloth. "We brought you some of Jack's old shifts, stockings and booties for Danielle. They looked about her size. I know he's a boy but most of them are white, see? She can wear them, too."
Faye wiped at her tears modestly. "Thank you."
"This is soap from Boston," Michaela said with a smile, setting the bar in her hands. "It smells like lavender. And do you have a vase somewhere? The boys picked these flowers for you. Aren't they pretty?"
"Nothin' looks pretty anymore," Faye said despondently.
"You're getting adjusted to having a new baby," Michaela said, standing up and finding a mug on one of the shelves to put the flowers in. "It's always difficult at first."
"No. It's more than that. Kirk and me, we was prayin' for a child somethin' fierce. But now...I don't think I...I want her anymore," Faye said, dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief. "I ain't fit to care for her proper."
"You're just tired," Michaela said reassuringly, setting the flowers in the mug and bringing them back to the table. "We don't know why, but sometimes new mothers ... well, they may grow quite melancholy after the baby is born. I know I went through a period after each of my children where I felt very discouraged. I thought I was a terrible mother."
"You did?" Faye said, looking up hopefully. "You?"
"Yes, especially after Byron," Michaela said softly, patting her hand. "But it passed and everything was fine. This won't last long. I promise."
"But what do I do now?" Faye said. "The cabin's in bad shape. I know it is. I just can't tend to it. Not that and the baby, too. It seems the harder I try the more behind I get. Poor Kirk. I ain't had a hot meal for him ready since before Danielle was born."
Michaela looked around hesitantly, rubbing the baby's back. "I'll help you. I'll come out here and help you until you're feeling better."
"You would?" Faye asked quietly. "Oh, Dr. Mike. I'm sorry. This is just harder than I ever thought. I can't believe you'd come out here just for me."
"You would do the same if it were me," Michaela said. "Besides, we're friends."
"Oh, you're the best friend I ever had," Faye said, taking her hand.
Michaela nodded quickly, not sure how to reply. Dorothy was still her best friend and she missed her dreadfully. But she felt very close to Faye, despite their age difference. Faye was easy to talk with and never passed judgments. Michaela found Yosemite so much less lonely when she and Faye were together. She always looked forward with great anticipation to when she would see and visit with the young woman next.
"Here's the milk, Ma," Brian said, opening the door and balancing a heavy bucket in his hands. He glanced around the cabin, raising his eyebrows.
"Faye, your house is all messed up and ya forgot about chores and milkin' the cow!" Byron spoke up accusingly, scurrying across the room to Michaela, Katie following him.
"Byron, hush," Michaela scolded, drawing him to her side. "Go take a bath, Faye. We'll handle things here."
Faye clutched the lavender soap to her chest, nodding shyly. "Thank you, Dr. Mike. Thank you."
Michaela smiled, picking up a towel and wiping up the breakfast crumbs from the table. "You're welcome."
He stood up, resting one arm on the mantel with contentment. All the time they spent keeping the fire up was worth it. The sight of the landscape of Yosemite, covered with a blanket of radiant snow under the low-rising winter sun, was worth all their efforts to keep warm.
Sully paused in his thoughts, picking up Byron's spectacles resting beside a candle on the mantel. "These belong to someone we know?" he spoke up, turning to face Michaela.
"He leaves those everywhere," she said, glancing up with a sigh. "I think he's purposely trying to lose them."
He smiled, placing them in the center of the kitchen table for the little boy to take care of in the morning. "Maybe."
"Do you know what your son called me today?" Michaela went on, returning her focus to the button.
"What?" he asked curiously.
"Ma," Michaela said sulkily. "He called me Ma, Sully."
He chuckled, sitting in the chair beside her. "Where'd he pick that up? Brian?"
"Jim and Luke," she explained. "They came here and ate breakfast with the children while we were at the Davises. I must say I'm very upset with Brian for allowing them inside."
Sully rested his hands on his knees. "I don't see the harm in it."
"I'm concerned about the influence those children are having on Byron," she said firmly. "If he says what they say, he'll do what they say as well. In fact he's already proven that."
"You concerned about that, or just scared he's growin' up? Nothin' wrong with him thinkin' maybe he's ready to call ya somethin' different now."
"He can't, Sully," Michaela protested. "I wanted to cry when he said that. I couldn't help it. I've always been Mama to him. Why does that have to change now? Because Jim and Luke told him so?"
"Maybe it's time ya talk to Carrie about this whole thing," Sully replied. "Don't ya think it's gone on long enough? It's gettin' a little foolish, Michaela."
She sighed, resting her hands in her lap. "I felt very foolish today," she admitted quietly. "And dreadfully stubborn. Brian wanted to know why the children couldn't see each other and I couldn't come up with very much to tell him."
"It's gone on so long, ya forgot why this started in the first place," he replied, gently caressing her hand. "All I see is four kids that just want to play together and can't. And for not much reason at all."
"That's not the message I want to give our children," she said. "That one should hold grudges against others and delay making an apology. But I just..." She shrugged. "Well, Carrie was the one who first said she didn't want Luke and Jim playing with the children."
"You said it, too," Sully replied. "It don't matter who went first."
"I'm not sure how to put a stop to all this now," she whispered.
"Maybe you and Carrie could talk about lettin' the kids play together again. Ya don't gotta make up right off, but at least then the kids won't be punished for this, too." He raised his finger to her chin, gently tickling it. "Michaela? What do ya think?"
"I suppose that's a good way to begin," she reluctantly admitted.
He leaned forward and gave her lips a tender kiss. "Then ya can go from there. What I want to know is how's my shirt comin'?"
"All finished," she said, handing it to him with a smile. "And good as new. Are you going to try it on?"
He draped it over his arm. "Nah. I trust ya."
She placed her spool back in her sewing bag and drew it closed. "Well, would you like me to get out the checker board? We haven't played together in awhile. Or we could look at the latest copy of the Gazette Dorothy sent us today."
"Maybe later," he murmured.
"Sully? I was wondering, did anything come from Ethan today?"
"Nothing," Sully replied. "Just the letter from Dorothy."
"That seems odd. There's been a letter from him for Brian on nearly every shipment, hasn't there? I wonder if he and Lillian are all right."
"I'm sure they are," Sully replied, stretching his arms in front of him. "Uh, ya think the kids are asleep?" he asked. "...Very asleep?"
She glanced at the cots, swallowing. "I think so. You know how they are. They sleep through anything."
"They sure do," he murmured as he gently grasped her hand, surprised at the sudden shyness he felt. "I'm kinda tired myself. How 'bout you?"
"Actually, no. Not really," she blurted, slowly rising to her feet.
He brought his hand up her arm to caress her shoulder, gazing into her eyes. "How do ya feel about goin' to bed anyway?"
She slowly smiled, raising her hands to embrace his face. She stood on her toes, caressing his lips with hers for a long, quiet moment. Finally, she pulled back, pressing her brow to his. "Yes...I'd like that."
He draped his arm around her waist with a grin and led her across the room. "Good. We can keep each other warm."
continue