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

"Mother!" Michaela barged into Elizabeth's room without even taking off her jacket. Elizabeth looked up with a start, her sewing basket and Brian's trousers in her lap.

"Michaela, you made me stick my finger!" Elizabeth scolded, pressing her index finger to her lips.

She paused, taken aback. "What are you hemming?"

"Oh, it's Brian's suit for the wedding. Isn't it lovely? It's Shetland wool and the buttons are brass. I had a feeling Loren would carry something like this. He has taste." She pushed her spectacles up on her nose and made another stitch on one of the pant legs.

"Dorothy showed me the invitations your wrote," Michaela began unsteadily. "And Grace told me about the menu."

"I was thinking a French theme," Elizabeth said as she continued to stitch. "In honor of Sarah's Louisiana roots. And who better to cater it than Grace from New Orleans?"

"Mother, you said he wasn't ready to be married. You called the entire thing ridiculous."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Did I? Well, I was taken off guard. I spoke in haste."

"No you didn't," Michaela protested. "You know how young they are. You know as well as I this is a mistake."

"Oh, they're not so young. I was younger than him when I got married. But your father and I worked hard at our marriage and built a very nice life for us and our girls if I do say so myself. I'm sure Brian and Sarah will do the same. It won't be a mistake."

Michaela took off her jacket and dropped it on the end of the bed, suddenly feeling very hot. "I always thought I would help plan his wedding, when the time came."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Michaela, you're the last person he wants to approach about lending a hand the way you overreacted!"

"Mother, you overreacted just as I did!" she retorted.

"Ah, so you admit it," Elizabeth said wryly.

"This is not going to happen this way. I won't let it."

"Really, Michaela, you should sit down. It's not good for you to become so anxious about everything in your condition."

"I'm not anxious and I don't need to sit down," she replied stubbornly. "And I can't believe you're just taking over his wedding without a word to me. Just like you tried to run my wedding."

"And just when do you think you'll have time to plan a wedding between looking after me and your family and going to the clinic every day? Michaela, I'm only trying to help. Besides, it's something for me to do. My days are so repetitive sitting here in bed. This is something to keep me occupied."

"Sully was right. You just want to stir things up because you're bored," she accused.

"Oh, nonsense. You're just angry because Brian asked me to plan his wedding instead of you. Well, you only have yourself to blame for that." She glanced at her intrepidly. "Besides, he probably knows I'll put on a better wedding anyway. Classy, elegant, traditional."

"I can't believe you, Mother," Michaela said hoarsely, grabbing her jacket and exiting the room.

Michaela slammed the lid on a barrel of apples and then took down several baskets of garlic, carrots, potatoes and other vegetables stored in the spring house. She had been rearranging it for half an hour, growing increasingly frustrated and upset as each minute passed.

Sully walked down the path to the doorway and grasped the frame. "Michaela?"

She turned with a start. "Sully! You scared me!"

"Sorry. Kids said you were out here. What're ya doin'?"

"This place is a mess," she replied, glancing up. "I've never seen it so disorganized. No one's putting things where they belong." She grabbed a stray apple on the shelf, opened the lid of the barrel and put it inside firmly.

"Careful, you'll bruise it," he murmured.

She gave him a stern glance and returned to the shelves, sorting through more baskets.

He folded his arms. "Uh, so ya see Brian's suit?"

"I saw."

"And?"

"And I can't believe she's doing this. She's completely taken over everything. I don't have any say at all in my own son's wedding."

"I don't think she thought about that."

"Oh, she's doing this to spite me, I know she is," she spat back. "She's still holding a grudge about what happened when she tried to plan our wedding. How much she and I disagreed. I got my way that time and she doesn't want it to happen again."

"Or maybe she just wants Brian to have a nice weddin'."

"Well, I see where your loyalties lie." She uncovered a pitcher of cream and sniffed it.

"Michaela, let me get this straight. You never wanted Brian to get married in the first place. Now you're angry because you're not the one plannin' the wedding?"

She put the pitcher back on the shelf. "Yes. What's your point?"

He took a step inside the spring house. "My point is ya can't expect Brian to be comfortable askin' ya to help out when he knows how ya feel about it. And maybe this'll be good for your ma. Give her something to do, somethin' to get ready for. Everybody needs somethin' to look forward to, especially somebody in the state she's in."

"She went behind my back. Now I know how you felt when she bought you those boots, and tried to send our children off to boarding school. I never should have questioned you."

"Well, maybe I was wrong about that," he murmured. "She was tryin' to do somethin' nice, just like she wants to do somethin' nice for Brian. Problem is I'm usually too stubborn to realize it."

"This isn't all about being nice. She always has ulterior motives. She manipulates everything to fit what she wants."

"Maybe she knows this might be the last weddin' of one of her grandkids she's gonna feel strong enough to help out with. Truth is I don't think anybody expects her to be around when Katie and Byron are ready to get married. She wants to make the most of it. Could be that's her motive."

"I suppose," she murmured.

"You know I'd be willin' to wear those boots, if you'd be willin' not to take all this so hard."

She smiled impishly. "I suppose it's Brian I should really be talking to. Not my mother. She's only doing what he asked her to."

He stepped toward her and grasped her hands. "Our little boy's growin' up, Michaela. It's all right to be a little upset about that." He caressed her cheek. "I'm sure he wants his ma to be a part of the most important day of his life, he's just too afraid to ask right now."

She hugged him. "I'm sorry, Sully. This is just so…so difficult. I'm supposed to let go of him in two weeks. I need more time."

"I want more time, too," he murmured. "But kids don't always do what their parents want. Your ma of all people knows that."

She nodded.

"But ya love 'em just the same," he added, kissing her cheek. "Hardest thing a parent has to do is watch their child make a choice they really don't want them to make. But your ma survived it. And we will too."

Sully took a small cracker out of a tin. Michaela was beside him in bed, sitting up, brow fixed as she tried to gauge how she felt. Her stomach was a little queasy, but it was not nearly as bad as most mornings. She was holding out hope she might actually make it through the day without vomiting, and Sully was eager to do whatever he could to help her achieve that.

"Here, eat this," Sully murmured, putting the cracker in her mouth.

She slowly chewed on it as he watched her every move diligently.

"How ya feel?" he asked.

She swallowed, resting one hand on her stomach. "I'm not sure. I think I might be all right."

"Good. Eat another one." She opened her mouth and he put another cracker in it, then caressed her cheek. "I can make ya somethin' bland for breakfast. Maybe some burnt toast again, some tea?"

"I don't think I've eaten breakfast in months," she replied. "At least not at this time in the morning. I'm afraid to."

"Ya gotta start tryin' harder to eat," he murmured, grasping her arm and gently squeezing. "You're lookin' so thin."

"I am trying. But it's not easy."

He lowered his eyes guiltily. "I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"That's silly. Why would you think that?"

He shrugged. "You know. I got ya like this. Pregnant."

"I was there, too, remember?"

He smiled softly.

"I for one am glad you got me like this," she whispered lovingly, drawing him close and kissing him. "Don't get up just yet? Stay with me?"

He smiled, putting his arms around her tenderly. "Be glad to."

She brought her hand up to his cheek, stroking the trace of whiskers that had appeared overnight, and pressed her lips to his in a rather ardent kiss. He was taken aback for only a moment before settling into it, letting out a soft, low moan from deep within his chest and working his hand beneath her nightgown to stroke her back. Finally, she pulled back and looked into his eyes affectionately as she stroked his scruffy cheek.

"My stomach doesn't hurt at all now. You cured me," she said wryly as they heard the sound of an axe splitting wood sharply.

He smiled. "Glad I could help."

She pecked his lips gently and then glanced at the window. "Is that Brian out there?"

"Must be."

"It's so early. I thought we were the only ones awake."

"What with everybody else still asleep, maybe now's not a bad time to go talk to him."

"I suppose you're right."

He patted her leg and she slowly got out of bed, stepping into her slippers and grabbing her bathrobe off the end of the bed.

"Stomach still feel all right?" he asked.

"So far."

"Michaela, just be honest with him. It'll be all right."

She nodded and opened the door, heading downstairs and outside.

Brian glanced up as she stepped down the porch, folding her arms against the early morning chill. He brought the axe down hard and split a large piece of kindling.

"Mornin', Ma," he called, stacking the kindling on a large pile.

"Good morning. You're up early."

"Have to get my chores done. Mr. Bray's gettin' a new shipment of dry goods today and I said I would help him go through it. He wants me in town to meet the mornin' train." He balanced another large piece of wood on the chopping stump.

"Oh? I didn't know you were working for him."

"Just this once. He knows I been lookin' for extra work." He raised his axe and brought it down hard.

She stepped closer to him. "If you'd like, the next time I get a shipment of medical supplies you could take care of that for me. I'd pay you."

"Really? Thanks, Ma. Sure."

"Why don't you invite Sarah for supper tonight. We haven't seen her in awhile."

He paused. "Thought ya didn't like Sarah."

"Brian, we love Sarah. I couldn't think of a sweeter young woman to be my daughter-in-law."

"But ya said I shouldn't get married."

"Of course I want you to fall in love and get married. You just took me off guard, that's all. It was all so sudden. But I'm better now."

He put the axe aside. "Then you're all right with us doin' this?"

"Well, I still think it would be a good idea if you wait. I think it would be better if you built your own house first. But you're certainly old enough to make your own decisions. So if this is what you want then Sully and I are going to do our best to support you."

He smiled. "Thanks, Ma."

She stepped toward him and hugged him. "I never did say it. Congratulations."

He grasped her shoulders. "Ma, you ain't upset about Gran'ma runnin' things, are ya? I just thought maybe it would cheer her up. I know how she likes to plan and organize things. I thought it would help her feel better, that's the only reason I asked her instead of you."

"Oh, you're so sweet," she murmured, caressing his cheek. "No, I don't mind anymore. In fact I think you're right, it's a good idea for her to have a project like this."

"I thought maybe you could help Katie pick out somethin' pretty to wear, do her hair, help her get her basket of flower petals. And maybe make a pillow for our ring bearers. If you don't think you're too busy."

"Yes, I'd love to do that."

"Good," he replied, taking off his gloves. "I best wash up and head into town."

"Wait, let me make you some breakfast first."

"That's all right, Ma. I'm fine."

"No, it's no trouble. I'll make you something quick. Just let me gather a few eggs."

"All right. Thanks."

She grinned wryly. "Besides, you're going to have a wife to make you breakfast from now on. This may be my last chance."

He grinned. "Guess you're right about that."

"Yes, just try to keep your hand steady," Teresa instructed as she sat beside Byron at his desk.

Byron bit his lip in concentration and carefully drew another capital S in cursive with his pencil and tablet. "I always forget how to do the S."

"Make one more of those and I think you'll have it perfect," she instructed.

He concentrated hard and wrote another letter. "How's this?"

She grabbed her red pen and drew a star on his paper. "Very good work, Byron. You can take that home to your parents."

He beamed. "Thanks, Miss Teresa."

She patted his shoulder and stood up. She suddenly spotted Curt leaning on one hand, dozing over his schoolwork.

She tapped his shoulder decisively. "Curtis?"

"Huh? What?" Curt muttered.

"Did you not get enough sleep last night, Curtis?" she asked.

"No, ma'am. I mean, yes, ma'am," he said, blinking up at her. "I got enough sleep."

She touched his paper. "You will stay after school and finish."

"I can't! I have baseball practice!" he blurted.

"You will stay and finish," she instructed firmly. "The rest of you are dismissed."

"Here, give this to Grace," Elizabeth said, handing Brian a small envelope. "More details about the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception." She put on her spectacles and looked through her paperwork. "Oh, and if you see Loren tell him we're going to have to order more champagne."

"I will. I gotta go, Gran'ma," Brian said, buttoning up his jacket and opening the front door.

"Brian, get Sarah's measurements. I need it for her veil. Don't forget!"

"I won't," he replied. "See ya later."

He rushed outside to the old wagon and climbed up just as Michaela was walking back from the barn with the children. Byron and Red Eagle were carefully carrying the milk bucket and Katie was holding Michaela's hand.

"Brian, where are you off to already?" Michaela asked.

"Got things to do for the weddin'. See ya at supper, Ma," he replied, giving the reins a slap.

"Bye, Brian," Katie called.

"Don't trip on the steps, boys," Michaela said. "Don't spill."

"We got it," Byron said breathlessly as they made their way up the stairs and inside.

Elizabeth glanced up from her writing with a smile. "Finished the chores already?"

"I brushed down all the horses," Katie said, taking off her shawl and hanging it up.

"And I see you're helping out your mother with the milk," Elizabeth said proudly, smiling at the boys as they carried the milk into the kitchen.

"Yep," Byron called. "Papa said to help."

"They've been wonderful helpers this morning," Michaela said, taking her sewing basket off the nearby cabinet and joining Elizabeth at the table.

"I'm going to be working on the wedding all day, Michaela," Elizabeth said, lowering her spectacles on her nose and glancing at her impatiently. "So if this is just going to infuriate you I suggest you go sit somewhere else."

"I'll sit here," Michaela replied, taking out some cream colored-fabric sewed in the shape of a small square and turned inside out. "I have to finish the pillow for the ring bearers."

"Now you're making the pillow? I thought you wanted nothing to do with this wedding."

She pulled out a few spools of thread. "Well, I was apprehensive about all this at first. But Brian and I talked and I've come to realize he's really matured in the past few years. I didn't realize it would be quite this soon, but I've always looked forward to his wedding someday. I want to help him with whatever he needs."

Elizabeth slowly smiled as Katie sat beside her and clutched her arm. "Good. We can plan it together."

"What's that, Mama?" Red Eagle asked, reentering the room with Byron.

Michaela cut a length of thread. "It's a pillow."

"Sure is small. Is it for the baby?" Byron asked.

She chuckled. "No. It's a ring bearer's pillow. You and Red Eagle can carry Sarah's ring on it at the wedding."

Byron folded his arms, glancing at the pillow skeptically. "Maybe Katie should do it."

"The ring bearer is always a little boy, Byron," Elizabeth explained. "It's tradition."

Byron shared a dubious glance with Red Eagle.

"Mama, I'm not sure I wanna carry that pillow anymore," Byron said boldly.

Michaela looked at them curiously. "Why? What's wrong?"

"We just…we think it's got too much lace on it," Red Eagle said gently.

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, I see. Boys, no one is going to mistake you for a girl just because you're carrying a beautiful pillow. Is that what's troubling you?"

"The ring bearer is the most important job," Michaela added. "Why, without you they couldn't get married. They won't have a ring."

"Really?" Red Eagle replied.

"Besides, I already have a job. I throw the flower petals," Katie said.

"Oh. Well, if you really need us," Byron said with a shrug.

"We do!" Michaela replied, putting her arm around him as someone knocked on the door.

Katie got up to answer. "Miss Teresa," she said with a smile. "Mama, it's our teacher."

"Good morning, Katie," Teresa replied, face set sternly.

"Mrs. Slicker," Michaela said, standing up. "What brings you out here?"

"May I speak with you please? It's important."

Michaela touched Red Eagle's shoulder. "Children, could you go play outside for a little bit?"

They obediently headed outside, shutting the door behind them.

"Is this is about the children because I'd like to hear, too," Elizabeth said insistently, gazing up at her. "After all, I'm their grandmother."

"Very well. I just wanted to let you know I've been speaking to my husband about all the problems my students have been having in school lately. He's agreed to convene the school board."

Michaela shook her head. "I don't understand. What problems?"

Elizabeth heaved a sigh. "Please don't tell me you want to hold Byron back again. For heaven's sake at the rate you're going he'll be my age by the time you let him out of that school."

"This isn't about Byron. In fact he's doing better than he ever has before. But the children on Mr. Lodge's baseball team are sleeping in class, are not turning in their homework and are performing poorly on their tests. They are spending so much time playing that game that their schoolwork is suffering."

Michaela nodded. "Well, that's something I'd love to discuss with Preston. I've always felt that he works those children too hard."

Teresa looked back at her resolutely. "The school board meets tomorrow night at seven. And I'm going to ask all of you to shut down this baseball league."

"She can't shut us down," Sully said firmly as he paced in front of the bed.

Michaela was reclining against several pillows, clutching a book. "She's gained this town's respect over the years. The school board will listen to what she has to say. And if she convinces them this baseball league is to the determent of the children's education she may just have enough votes to get what she wants."

"You're on the school board. You don't think we should be shut down, do ya?"

She closed her book. "No, of course not. But I do think Preston needs to stop working his team so hard. This isn't a military academy. It's supposed to be fun and relaxing." She sighed softly and gently pressed her fingers to her brow, closing her eyes. "Sully, as long as you're up could you get me a cool cloth for my head?"

He wrinkled his brow. "What's wrong with your head?"

"I just have a little headache."

He walked to the basin and grabbed a cloth, dipping it into the water and wringing it out. Then he returned to the bed and spread it across her brow. "Ya ain't gettin' sick are ya?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm just tired."

"How's this?"

"Better. Thank you." She puckered her lips and he leaned down and kissed her.

"Want some willow bark tea?"

"No, that's all right. Come to bed. Let's cuddle."

"Ya wanna cuddle, huh?" he murmured teasingly as he slipped off his boots and climbed in beside her.

"I'm afraid that's all I really feel up to right now. I'm sorry," she said, glancing at her large belly with a raise of her eyebrows.

He drew her into his arms. "That's all right. Sometimes just holdin' each other's nice, too," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

"Mm, yes." She pressed his hand to the side of her stomach. "It's kicking just there."

He felt it pensively. "We thought Byron was heartbroken when he had to miss one game. How's he gonna feel when the whole league gets shut down?"

"I know." She giggled. "Sully, it's tickling me."

He smiled. "What's it doin', rollin' around?"

She shifted up her nightgown, exposing her belly. "It's poking a leg out I think. Oh, that's so strange. I can't look." She grimaced and turned her head away, pressing her hand to the cloth across her brow. Even having been through it three times before, it was all still so remarkable and at times, overwhelming.

Sully on the other hand couldn't get enough. He ran his hand over the decisive bump on one side of her belly that did indeed feel like some kind of appendage. "Ya can see a leg. Ya can see the whole baby in there. Look at that." He pushed gently on the bump with two fingers and the baby wiggled right back and seemed to swipe an entire arm across Michaela's belly.

She covered her mouth and giggled. "She's tickling me."

"Michaela, ya see that?" he blurted. He pushed on her belly again and it squirmed vigorously in reply.

"Sully, stop. Don't," she pleaded. "That makes her do it more. It hurts."

He smiled softly. "Sorry. You all right?"

"I'm fine. It's good to feel her moving. I just don't know how I'm going to fall asleep with her this active tonight. She always wakes up when I'm ready to go to bed."

He eyed her impishly. "Don't it know it's nighttime?"

"Apparently not." Her belly lurched again and she grimaced. "Sully? I was thinking if she's going to be born in April, we could name her that."

"What do ya mean?"

"I mean I really like the name April for her. What do you think?"

He chuckled. "Ya want to name the baby after a month? Sounds kinda silly to me."

"Silly? It's not silly," she protested. "I happen to think April is a lovely name. And it goes nicely with your last name."

He shook his head. "No, I hate it."

"Tell me how you really feel," she said grimly.

"I’m sorry, Michaela, but we ain't namin' our child after a month. We name it that and it looks like we didn't even try."

"I just wish you wouldn't be so negative about this all the time," she protested. "I'm trying so hard to bring some good names to the table, and you always reject them all flat out."

"Well, maybe if ya come up with a name I like, I won't reject it so quick."

She couldn't help smiling a little. "You're impossible."

He smiled back and kissed her. "Think ya can try to get some sleep?"

She glanced at her belly. "I'll try. She's still moving around quite a bit."

Sully smoothed her hand gently down her rumbling tummy. "Gotta settle down so your ma can sleep, all right? She's got a big meetin' tomorrow."

"I'll do my best to convince the board how beneficial the league has been for some of the children. Try to prevent them from shutting it down." She took his hand and squeezed it. "It might help if you say something in defense of all this."

"You know those kinda meetins ain't my thing."

"You're going to at least go, aren't you?"

He glanced at her and leaned back against the headboard. "Yeah. I'll go."

"What a waste of time, dragging us all out here for something like this," Elizabeth griped as Sully lifted her chair up the church steps.

Sully spotted Michaela lingering on the first step, looking a little apprehensive.

"You all right?"

"I think so. I just felt a little unsteady for a moment there."

He padded back down the steps. "Here, let me help ya. Don't lose your balance." He held her hand and she made her way gingerly up the stairs.

"It makes me nervous climbing stairs so much when I can't even see my feet," she said sheepishly.

"Michaela, if you're not up to this we can go home. We don't gotta go to this meeting."

"No, I'm a member of the board. They need my vote."

"Just want ya to try to slow down at some point. We're gettin' close here."

"I'll have no choice but to slow down," she replied wryly. "Just look at me."

He smiled and rubbed her back, then grabbed Elizabeth's wheelchair and pushed it into the room as Michaela made her way to the front and took the empty seat on one end of the table next to Jake and Hank. Loren and the Reverend were waiting at the other end.

Jake looked at her as if a little annoyed she was a few minutes late and then banged his gavel. "This meeting's called to order. Our only order of business is a report from the teacher Teresa Slicker."

Teresa stood up at the front of the room and made her way to the podium. "Members of the board, I've asked you to meet tonight because I have some serious concerns about our town's baseball league. While I think all children would do well with some exercise and fresh air, I believe it is now interfering with their schoolwork."

"Are you saying they aren't doing as well because of baseball?" the Reverend asked curiously.

"Yes, Reverend. In particular, I'm talking about the children on Mr. Lodge's team. Their work is unacceptable, and now they're sleeping in class."

"I always slept through school and it didn't do me no harm," Hank said.

"Hank, I think we can all agree it's never a good thing when a child is so tired he's sleeping in school," Michaela spoke up.

"You sayin' you think we should stop the baseball league, Dr. Mike?" Loren asked.

"No, not at all. The baseball league's been wonderful for many of the children," Michaela replied. "My own children especially are actually much more attentive to their homework. They know homework comes before baseball and they have to finish first before they're allowed to play."

"Michaela, I'm afraid that's not the rule in every house," the Reverend said gently. "It sounds like a lot of children don't care about school anymore."

"May I say something?" Preston spoke up from the back of the room, standing up.

Jake pointed his gavel at him. "I guess so. You're the coach."

"Boxing was the best thing for me as a child," Preston said. "It gave me a sense of accomplishment, built character when I was a rather meek child. And it taught me how to work hard and never give up. So some children have been neglecting their studies. But overall baseball has been the best thing for the children of this town."

Teresa turned around. "I've seen you out there with your team in the pouring rain, practicing for hours on end, Mr. Lodge."

"Nothing wrong with pushing them a little, Mrs. Slicker," he said. "Winners never quit."

Teresa glared at him angrily. "You're teaching my students to work like mules at the expense of everything else, even their studies. Children need proper rest and time to just be children!"

"Forgive me, Mrs. Slicker, but I don't think you know anything about baseball," Preston said dismissively.

Jake banged his gavel. "All right, all right. Everybody calm down."

"Maybe Miss Teresa's right," the Reverend spoke up. "It seems like the priority of this school board should be the children's education."

"Well, maybe stopping the baseball league is the only thing to do," Loren admitted.

"I say we vote. All in favor of shutting down the baseball league raise your hands." Jake, Loren and the Reverend went to raise their hands but Michaela quickly shook her head.

"Wait, let's not be hasty," she protested, grasping the table and rising to her feet. "The children love playing baseball. But we want them all to get a good education. There's no reason we can't compromise."

"What kind of compromise?" Preston demanded.

"Preston, I think we should require you to limit your practices. Say to an hour twice a week at the most. And no practicing when the weather is poor."

"Two hours a week?" he exclaimed. "What am I supposed to do with them for only two hours?!"

"Now I think that's a good idea," the Reverend said. "Two hours sounds much more reasonable."

"Teresa?" Jake spoke up. "What do you think of that?"

Teresa sighed and folded her arms. "Well, that sounds better."

"All in favor say aye," Jake spoke up.

"Aye!" the school board all said.

"Opposed?" Jake asked.

"Nay!" Preston called firmly.

"You can't vote, Preston," Loren said.

"The ayes have it," Jake said, tapping his gavel. "Meeting's adjourned."

Sully smiled with relief and pushed Elizabeth's wheelchair up to the front.

"Good job," he said, grasping Michaela's hand.

"Thank you," she replied, giving him a loving smile.

"What a relief," Elizabeth remarked. "I was dreading telling those poor children they couldn't play baseball anymore."

Teresa brushed past Michaela without a word to greet Jake.

"Well, that's gratitude for you," Elizabeth said impatiently.

"Mother, shh," Michaela scolded.

"Don't shush me!" she exclaimed.

Sully smiled and grabbed the back of her wheelchair. "It's late. Let's head home."

The crowd cheered as Davey stepped up to the plate. Byron was on the hurling mound, holding the ball behind his back.

Davey took a few practice swings and then finally Byron wound up, pitching the ball across the plate. Davey connected hard with the ball, sending it high and up in the air all the way out toward the church cemetery. Preston's team cheered and Byron lowered his head sadly.

"Oh, no," Michaela murmured

"What?" Elizabeth asked, holding her parasol over her head.

"He hit a home run. They just scored again."

"Oh, no," Elizabeth echoed as Kirk erased the chalkboard and gave the Eagles another point.

"The poor things. If they could just win one game," Dorothy remarked softly as she wrote in her reporter's notebook.

Sully called a time out and jogged out to the pitching mound, placing his hand on the child's shoulder.

"I can't throw strikes today, Pa," Byron remarked. "I stink."

"Don't worry about that. Let's just think about the next batter. You really been workin' hard on your curve ball. Let's try throwin' some curve balls."

"Think that'll work?"

"Just do your best." He patted his back and jogged back to his team, then folded his arms and watched the field.

"Good job, sweetheart!" Michaela called encouragingly. Byron waved back at her then turned his attention to the plate.

"Play ball!" Loren shouted.

A little boy from Preston's team approached the plate and took some practice swings. Byron wound up, clutching the ball between his thumb, index and middle finger. Then he raised his hands, lifted his right leg off the ground for an extra bit of force and let the ball fly across the plate. The batter stepped back, deciding not to swing at it, and the ball bounced on the plate and leaped right back up, striking Loren hard in the knee. He groaned and hunched over, wrapping his hands around the knee.

The crowd gasped and Byron watched in horror. "Mr. Bray!" he shouted.

"Loren!" Dorothy cried. She and Michaela rushed over to him.

"I'm all right. I'm all right," Loren said dismissively. He suddenly lost his balance and Dorothy immediately grabbed his arm to steady him.

"You're not all right! You're hurt!"

"Sit down, Loren," Michaela instructed. "Let me take a look."

Sully and Preston joined them and Byron walked over and watched from a few feet away, eyes welling with tears. The spectators and the baseball players made their way over to gather around and watch.

"What do ya need, Ma. Ice?" Brian asked.

"Yes, could you go bring a block to the clinic, Brian?" she replied.

He immediately raced off as Michaela pushed up Loren's pant leg and probed her fingers around the knee. Loren cried out at her gentle touch.

"I'm sorry, Loren," she said. "I need to know if you can bend your knee."

He cringed and bent his leg a little.

"Good. I don't think it's broken. But it's probably going to be very bruised. Let's get you to the clinic."

"Oh, Loren," Dorothy murmured.

"If that boy didn't hurl so good maybe I coulda jumped out of the way," Loren replied, giving Byron a soft smile.

Byron smiled back and struggled to keep tears in check.

"Everybody back up," Sully instructed, nudging some of the boys aside. "Give us some room."

Sully got down on his left side and Preston got on the other and they hoisted him to his feet, helping him limp off the field toward the clinic.

Byron sat at Michaela's desk and rubbed at his tears, clutching his baseball in one hand. He could hear his mother talking to Loren in the nearby recovery room as she examined his knee and replenished his ice pack.

Michaela suddenly opened the door and walked to her medicine cabinet, searching through it. She spotted Byron watching her despondently.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?"

Too upset to speak, he could only shake his head.

She grabbed a bottle of morphine powder and walked to the desk. "Why don't you come see Mr. Bray? He can have visitors now. Come on, it's all right."

He slid down from the chair and crossed the room, following her back into the recovery room. Elizabeth was sitting in her wheelchair beside the bed, talking softly to Loren and making him smile. His leg was propped up on a few pillows and a large, damp towel containing ice rested atop his knee.

"You have a visitor," Michaela said as she spooned some powder into the glass.

Byron lingered in the doorway shyly. "You all right, Mr. Bray?"

"Course I am! You think you can throw that baseball hard enough to stop a tough ole man like me?"

Reassured, he approached the bed and wrapped one hand around the post. "I don't know why but I always get in lots of accidents."

"Yep, I s'pose you do," he said with a soft chuckle. "That's all right. I had two left feet myself when I was your age."

"Two? What do you mean?"

"I mean I got in my share of accidents, too. Don't worry, you'll grow out of it."

"Oh. That's good. I'm sorry, Mr. Bray. Hope you're not hurt too bad."

He held out his arm and drew him into a gentle hug. "It's all right. You didn't mean any harm."

Michaela smiled softly and handed Loren the glass. "I'll go tell Dorothy she can come in now." She walked out of the room and crossed the front room, heading to the door. She found her friend waiting anxiously on the bench next to Sully.

"How's he doin', Michaela?" Dorothy asked. "It ain't broken, is it?"

"No, I'm fairly certain it's not. He'll need to keep lots of ice on it the next few days, and stay off his feet."

"Oh, of course. I'll help him. Whatever he needs to do."

"You can see him now," Michaela said, stepping toward Sully and putting her arm around his shoulders.

Dorothy walked inside and headed to the recovery room. She stopped short as she heard Byron and Elizabeth giggling. She paused just outside the doorway. Byron was sitting up on the bed next to Loren, looking up at him reverently. Loren was telling them some story about a funny customer, his eyes animated.

"No you didn't!" Byron exclaimed.

"Loren, shame on you," Elizabeth added.

"It's true! I swear it!" he replied, and they all laughed some more.

Dorothy backed up, not wanting to disturb them. Loren could very well have been mistaken for the child's grandfather at that moment, and Elizabeth his wife. They made such a happy picture she suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and more then a little left out. She walked to the back door and quietly opened it, slipping out unnoticed.

Michaela finished hanging the last damp stocking on the clothesline as she spotted Sully on Flash galloping toward the homestead. She gathered her skirts and made her way down the incline to greet him.

"Thought I told you I'd do the laundry." Sully jumped off the horse and grabbed the bridal.

"Sully, it's perfectly all right for me to keep doing the chores and housework. As long as I don't overdo it."

"Back feelin' all right?"

She shrugged, touching the small of her back with both hands. "It's a little sore. But sometimes it feels better to be on my feet."

"I took her for a good ride," Sully said. "About eight miles."

"Good. Did she behave?"

"Except for the couple times she threw me? Yeah, she was fine."

She smiled and rubbed Flash's nose. "Did Sully take you for a good ride?" She kissed her nose. "I bet you miss Mama. I miss you. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

He took off his gloves. "Talk to that horse like she's your child."

"She is," she replied.

He chuckled softly and led Flash toward the barn.

"How's your ma?" he asked.

"Fine. Napping."

"Good."

She folded her arms in front of her. "Do you know what today is?"

"Today? I didn't forget somethin' important, did I? Our anniversary?"

She smiled, amused. "No. Today marks six months since Mother moved in with us."

"Is that so? Six months, huh?" He opened the barn door and led Flash inside. Michaela followed him and watched as he unbuckled Flash's saddle. "She ever mention what her plans are?

"Plans?" she replied.

"When she wants to go back to Boston."

"Oh. No, not really."

"Ya know, if she wants to, she can stay on. It's all right by me." He unbuckled the last strap and then hoisted Flash's saddle onto the side of her stall.

She looked up at him hopefully. "Indefinitely?"

"Sure. We've had our disagreements from time to time, but nothin' more than I expected. I think it's worked out real good havin' her stay here, don't you?"

"Oh, Sully. You mean that?"

He walked out of the stall and caressed her arm. "If you're askin' me if your ma can stay on, far as I'm concerned she's welcome here the rest of her days. Problem is this ain't up to us."

"You're right. It's up to Mother."

He grabbed a bucket and put his arm around her. "Let's get that feisty child of yours some water. She ran a long ways."

She chuckled and walked with him out of the barn.

Teresa stood in front of the class, her arm around a new student. He looked back at the other classmates critically, brow narrowed. He wore a brand new, expensive shirt, britches and polished black boots.

"Children, this is Herman Sexton. His father is in Colorado on business and he'll be enrolled in our school while he's here." She paused. "What do you say?"

"Mornin', Herman," the children mumbled.

"You may take a seat over there, behind Byron and Mark," Teresa instructed, pointing down the aisle.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, sauntering down the aisle and sliding onto the bench.

"Children, take out your readers and study chapter two," Teresa instructed, opening her pocket watch and returning to her desk.

Red Eagle felt a pencil poke into his back.

"Ow!" he whispered.

"What are you? Some kind of chief?" Herman asked.

Byron spun around to look at him, narrowing his brow angrily. Red Eagle flipped a page and tried to ignore him.

"Hey, chief. Chief!" Herman said. "What page we on?" He poked Red Eagle with his pencil again.

"Stop. Leave him alone," Byron pleaded.

"Shush up, runt. Nobody asked you, runt."

"Oh, yeah?" Byron replied. "Well, you're….you're-"

"Don't pay any attention," Red Eagle whispered to his brother.

Byron swallowed hard and slowly turned back around, opening his book and doing his best to ignore the taunting.

Michaela ground up some dandelion root with her mortar and pestle as her mother sat in a wheelchair nearby and polished the glass globe of a lantern.

"You're procrastinating," Elizabeth accused.

"No we're not," Michaela said defensively. "We just can't agree."

"Henrietta. Your cousin twice removed. Now I think that's a lovely name."

"I suppose it's all right."

Sully opened the door, holding Michaela's satchel that was bulging with green leaves. "Got that klamath weed."

"Oh, you found it! Where was it?" Michaela asked.

"Just along the side of the road."

She smiled and stepped toward him to kiss him appreciatively. "Thank you."

"Sully, what do you think of Henrietta?" Elizabeth spoke up.

"Never heard of her."

"I mean as a name. A name for the baby," she retorted impatiently.

"Who's this? Some great aunt again?"

"Cousin," Elizabeth said defensively. "On Josef's side of the family. Henrietta Quinn. You could call her Hetty."

He raised his eyebrows. "Hetty? We're havin' a baby, not a chicken."

Michaela giggled as she removed the leaves from her satchel.

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open. She placed the globe on Michaela's desk and folded the cloth. "What do you mean? You mean to say you don't like it?"

"Nope," Sully replied simply.

"Well, what name do you want, exactly?" Elizabeth demanded. "I've yet to hear any suggestions from you, Sully."

He glanced at Michaela, grabbing her satchel and hanging it on the hook near the door. "I got plenty of suggestions. Michaela just don't like 'em."

"That's not true, I like some of them," she protested. "I'm just not sure I would want to name my child any of those, that's all."

"I'd love to hear one suitable name," Elizabeth said skeptically.

He folded his arms. "All right. Alexander, for starters."

"Sully, I already told you I don't care for that," Michaela protested.

"Alexander! Oh, Sully, that's just terrible," Elizabeth retorted, scrunching up his face. "Where on earth did you hear that one?"

"Alexander's a little boy on our baseball team. What's so bad about it?"

"Too regal," Elizabeth said dismissively. "Too much of a mouthful. And it sounds ridiculous with your last name. Everyone will call him Alex which is even worse. Alex Sully? Horrible. Besides, it's a moot point anyway. She's having a girl."

"What, ya can see inside now? What if it's a boy? Don't ya think we better have somethin' picked out just in case?"

"No, not necessary. I think I know when my daughter's carrying a girl. I've had five of them." Her eyes suddenly brightened. "Your Aunt Frances! You remember her, Michaela."

Michaela raised her eyebrows. "I have an Aunt Frances?"

Sully let out a soft chuckle. "Frances? Ya gotta be jokin'. Elizabeth, I know ya mean well, but this ain't helpin'. Michaela, tell me ya don't like that."

"I knew this was going to turn into another fight. All we do is fight about this," Michaela said despairingly. "We're never going to agree on anything. Our baby's never going to have a name."

"Course it will," Sully said, reaching his hand up to rub her back. "We'll hit on one we both like soon. Don't fret about it."

"I can't help it. I'm due in eight weeks and we're no better off than when we started."

"Well, if we don't got a name by then, soon as we see our baby it'll come to us."

"Are you certain?"

He kissed her reassuringly. "I promise."

"Hm, well I'm afraid I'm not as optimistic as you are," Elizabeth said just as someone rang the clinic bell.

"Hey, tell 'em you're closin' up," Sully said. "We need to head home so you can take a nap, get some rest."

She nodded and walked to the door, opening it. "Oh, good afternoon, Horace."

"Afternoon, Dr. Mike. Telegram came for your ma."

"Thank you," she said, grasping the yellow sheet of paper and shutting the door as Horace left.

"It's for you, Mother," Michaela said, approaching the wheelchair and handing it to her.

"Probably your sisters again, wondering if I've been scalped yet. They're so relentless," Elizabeth remarked, turning the paper toward her. Her face suddenly fell. "Oh, it's from Edward. Oh, no!"

"What's wrong?" Sully asked.

She looked up, stunned. "Edward says my house was robbed. Thieves took the silver and some jewelry and artwork!"

"What? But there hasn't been a burglary on Mount Vernon Street in ages," Michaela protested.

"They knew no one was home, that's what happened," Elizabeth said resolutely. "No one's been living there for six months. The house must look all but abandoned. No wonder it attracted thieves."

Michaela put her arm around Elizabeth sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, Mother."

Elizabeth read the telegram again. "Edward wants me to come home and attend to this."

"He wants you to come all the way back to Boston? What does he expect you to do?" Michaela asked. "Why do you need to go back?"

"Why do you think? Michaela, my house was just robbed!"

"You don't need to go back for that. That's silly. Edward and everyone can handle matters. I know this is upsetting but there's not much you can do even if you were there."

"I'll wire him, talk to him about installing some good locks," Sully suggested. "This won't happen again."

Elizabeth rested the telegram on Michaela's desk "When exactly am I going back anyway? Back home. We've never discussed it."

Michaela shrugged. "I don't know."

"It's been six months, Michaela," Elizabeth remarked. "Six long months."

"If you want to go back I'd like to go with you to help you settle in," Michaela replied. "We'll need to hire you another nurse. But I'm afraid I won't be able to go anywhere until after the baby's born and is weaned."

"Well, isn't that convenient," Elizabeth muttered.

"Mother, what are you saying?" Michaela retorted. "I'm not keeping you here."

Sully stepped toward her. "Elizabeth, Michaela and me been talkin'. We like havin' ya live with us. We think it's worked out real good for the most part. And ya can see for yourself how much better you're doin' out here. If you want to stay on, we'd be happy to have ya."

"What are you saying? You mean permanently?"

"That's right," Michaela said.

"No, I couldn't do that," Elizabeth replied.

"Cheyenne families always take the grandmothers and grandfathers into their tepees when somethin' like this happens," Sully explained. "You know, old age is just a part of life's journey. Where one path ends, another begins. Cheyenne welcome it. There's no shame in it."

"Well, we're not Cheyenne, are we?"

"Mother, we want you to do what makes you happy," Michaela added. "If you really feel you need to go back to Boston I won't stop you. But we'd like it very much if you moved in with us permanently. I'd feel a lot better about you if you were under our own roof, if we're caring for you ourselves."

Elizabeth bit her lip solemnly. "I just…I don't want to be a burden."

"Oh, Mother. You're not a burden," Michaela immediately said. "You'll never be a burden. Not as long as you're my mother."

Sully grasped her arm. "Elizabeth, we're family. Cheyenne or not, families oughta take care of each other."

"You once cared for me when I was helpless," Michaela added. "Now I'd like to take care of you."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm afraid that's not true. Martha was the one who looked after you when you were an infant. She's the one who lost sleep, not me. Why don't you go pester her to move out here?"

Michaela chuckled softly. "Well, maybe I will."

"Just think about it, Elizabeth," Sully said, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"I'll send that straight off to Boston right away," Horace said as he sat at his telegraph and began tapping on the wire.

"Thanks, Horace," Sully replied, sticking his hands into his pocket and walking back outside to his horse.

"Sully," Preston called, making his way down the street. A dignified, well-dressed man was at his side, opening his pocket watch and looking at it. A long roll of paper was tucked under his arm. A younger man, looking uncomfortable in a similar suit, tagged along behind them as he read the Gazette, followed by a little boy about Katie's age, dragging a stick in the dust.

Preston clutched his shoulder. "I just ran into Michaela and Mrs. Quinn. How terrible. Who would rob a helpless old woman like that?"

Sully nodded, gathering the reins.

"If there's anything I can do for her," Preston went on.

"She'll be all right. Important thing is nobody was hurt." He moved to mount his horse but Preston grabbed his arm.

"Sully, this is Stephen Sexton. He's an investor visiting from back East. Tennessee, wasn't it?"

"Memphis. Mr. Sully," the older man replied, giving him a firm handshake. "I understand you're a wheelwright."

Sully glared at Preston, annoyed. "He tell ya that?"

Preston smiled innocently. "Well, Sully, you do make wheels. That makes you a wheelwright, doesn't it?"

"I made wheels before. What's it to ya?" Sully murmured.

Stephen put his arm around the older of the boys and gave his shoulder a playful shake. "My son here is going to be turning twenty and I'd like to give him a new set of wheels for his surrey."

"Plenty of folks who could do that for ya," Sully said dismissively.

"Pa, Pa?" the youngest child spoke up. "Pa, can we go over and take a look-see at the store, see what toys they got?"

"Quiet, Herman. Let me talk to Mr. Sully first."

"Pa, come on, Pa!" he protested.

"Just a minute, Herm!" he scolded. He dug into his pocket, pulling out several bills. "Here, go on ahead. I'll meet you there."

Sully raised his eyebrows as the little boy took the cash and went racing off to the store eagerly.

Stephen sighed and looked at Sully again. "Not just any wheels. I want them custom made. I've made some drawings. I'd like them to be black with gold trim and I want the hubs to have spikes on them, like the Roman chariots." He held out the rolled paper.

Preston smiled and nodded eagerly.

"I appreciate this, but ya got the wrong man." Sully quickly mounted his horse and drew up on the reins.

"I'll pay you fifty dollars," Stephen said firmly.

Sully stopped short. "Fifty dollars? Just for wheels?"

He removed his hat, revealing thinning gray hair. "Well, this is specialty work, Mr. Sully. I wouldn't trust just anyone."

Sully brushed back his hair from his eyes, mulling it over. "That kind of work would take time."

"That's all right. His birthday's not until next month and I'll be here in Colorado on business for awhile."

"Can I get back to ya on this?" Sully replied.

"Sully doesn't do anything without his wife's permission," Preston explained with a cheeky nod.

He put his hat back on. "Ah, well, always a good idea to consult the misses. Yes, think about it for a few days. You'll find me at Mr. Lodge's hotel."

Sully reached down and took the plans from him, then turned his horse, cantering out of town.

"I just can't believe it," Elizabeth went on, clutching her knife and fork as the family ate supper. "The idea that someone could just waltz right into my home like that, steal all my nice things without a care. It's positively cold-blooded."

"Our house won't get robbed, right, Gran'ma?" Byron spoke up, voice slightly unsteady.

Michaela glanced at the children. The robbery was beginning to frighten them a little, and they had forgotten about their food and were staring at Elizabeth as she carried on.

"We'll be all right," Sully said reassuringly. "We got a good lock on our door."

"Sides, that kind of thing usually don't happen around these parts," Brian added. "Mostly the city."

The children looked a little reassured and resumed eating.

"Mother, perhaps we could change the subject?" Michaela spoke up hesitantly. "Talk about something a bit pleasanter at the table."

Elizabeth nodded. "I apologize. Yes, let's talk about something else. Learn anything useful today, children?"

Katie took a sip of milk. "We have a new boy in school."

"Oh? Who?" Michaela asked, taking a bite of her ham.

"His name is Herman from this place called Memphis," Katie replied. "He's kinda tall for eight."

She cut another slice of ham. "Eight? Oh, good. Perhaps you could invite him over here to play with the three of you sometime."

"Maybe he could even join our baseball team," Brian added.

"No!" Byron blurted.

"No!" Katie said at the same time.

Michaela paused. "No? Why?"

Byron scratched his nose. Red Eagle was staring at his plate and eating, not saying a word.

"Somethin' happen, son?" Sully said perceptively.

"He made fun of Red Eagle and me," Byron admitted in a whisper. "He teased us."

Michaela shared a glance with Sully.

"Oh?" she murmured, clearing her throat. "What was he teasing you about?"

"I don't know. Stuff," Byron muttered.

"His first day at school and he has to pick on them already?" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Where was Mrs. Slicker in all this? Didn't she stop him?"

"Did you ignore it?" Michaela asked, gazing at the boys.

"Yes, ma'am," Byron murmured.

"Good." She eyed them a moment longer. "Were your feelings hurt?"

Byron glanced up, clutching his fork. "Yes, ma'am."

"Red Eagle?" Michaela probed.

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

She took a sip of her coffee. "If he does it again I want you to come tell Mama and Papa, do you understand?"

"Somethin' like this is happenin' at school, we wanna know," Sully said.

Michaela reached out to squeeze Byron's arm. "I was teased when I was your age, too. I know how badly that can feel sometimes. But you did the right thing ignoring it. If he doesn’t get any reaction out of you, I think he just might stop."

Byron nodded and took a bite of mashed potatoes.

"With a name like Herman I suspect he's probably endured his fair share of teasing as well," Elizabeth remarked.

"Gotta think about things like that when ya name your child," Sully spoke up sternly.

"What? I never suggested anything as bad as that!" Elizabeth protested.

"Frances?" Sully reminded her.

"I have an idea to name the baby," Katie spoke up.

Michaela smiled at her. "You do? What is it?"

"Lily."

Michaela smiled wider. "Oh, I like that, Katie. Do you know someone named that? Someone at school?"

"No. I just thought of it." She took a sip of milk.

"Very good, sweetheart. Oh, that's so pretty. Sully?" She looked across the table.

"Sorry, Kates. Don't like it," he said dismissively.

Elizabeth heaved a sigh. "Sully, what's not to like about a beautiful name like that?"

He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. "I don't know. Makes me think of lily pads, then I think of frogs."

"Oh, that's ridiculous," Elizabeth griped. "Honestly."

"Ribbit!" Byron squeaked, bursting into giggles.

"Well, the baby likes it," Michaela said, clutching her belly. "She's kicking me."

"Maybe it's kickin' ya cause it don't like it," Sully suggested, shooting her a soft smile.

"I know what she likes. Pie," Byron said. "It's time for dessert!"

Michaela laughed and reached for the pecan pie in the center of the table to dish it up. "I think you're right!"

Sully placed his lantern on Elizabeth's nightstand, gently grasped her arm and squeezed.

"Elizabeth," he whispered. "Elizabeth."

Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes. "Sully, is that you? What time is it?"

"About two. How ya doin'? Let's get ya turned."

She held onto his arm and he shifted her to her other side.

"Ya need anything? Outhouse?"

"Just an extra blanket. It's chilly tonight."

"Rain's really comin' down," he remarked, walking to her bureau and pulling out another quilt. He returned to the bed and spread it across her. "How's this?"

She nodded. "Sully, thank you."

He smiled softly, picking up his lantern. "You're welcome. G'night."

Sully carefully opened the bedroom door, surprised to find Michaela out of bed. She was sitting at her vanity, resting her elbows on it and burying her head in her hands as she slowly breathed.

"Michaela, what're you doin' up? What's wrong?"

She looked up briefly at his reflection in the mirror. "Nothing. Just a little contraction."

"Contraction?" Sully echoed in disbelief, approaching her. "Should I get Andrew?"

She shook her head. "No. It's just the practice kind. Just a little cramping. It's not really labor. I've learned to tell the difference."

"Practice? Ya never got those before."

"Yes, I did. You've just never caught me before." She closed her eyes and went back to her slow breathing as Sully rubbed her arm, watching her worriedly.

"Ya want something?" he whispered. "Some water?"

She didn't reply, too focused on her breathing. He smoothed her hair from her brow and watched her intently, his heart pumping hard.

"Mm, it's down in my back, Sully."

"Down here?" he asked, running his hand down to her lower back and rubbing.

"Yes, that's good," she murmured, opening her eyes.

He rubbed her back a little harder. "It goin' away?"

She breathed a few more seconds and then slowly straightened. "It's over. Let's go back to bed."

He sighed with relief and she held onto his arms as he helped her out of the chair. They walked to the bed and she fluffed her pillows and then reclined against them with a sigh. Sully sat beside her and nervously helped smooth out her nightgown and fluff her pillows some more.

"Here's the one for your legs," he murmured, positioning a smaller pillow between her knees.

She glanced at him. "Sully, stop looking so worried."

"I ain't," he protested, drawing the covers up over her. He sighed, lowering his eyes. "Guess seein' ya have a contraction…Michaela, it ain't too late to change our minds. We can go stay at the clinic tomorrow and wait there."

"No, I've made up my mind. I'm having our baby here."

"Ya tell your ma about that?"

"Yes. She was actually very supportive. My sisters and I were all born at home. Women never used to go to hospitals. She said she'll look after the children when the time comes."

He tenderly stroked her belly with the back of his hand. "That'll be a big help. Don't want 'em to be scared."

"Sully, I just want to be where I feel the most relaxed, the most safe. As much as I'm comfortable at the clinic, it's just not home. I've had all my babies somewhere else. I've never been able to make it to the clinic. I've never needed to."

"Well, maybe we got lucky. Guess I just keep thinkin' what if ya need an operation? Or somethin' else goes wrong?"

"That's partly why I don't want to be at the clinic. It makes me anxious to think about all those instruments there ready to cut me open. If I'm not around all that, I think I'll feel more confident in my ability to do this." She cuddled against him. "If it comes down to it, we'll have the wagon ready to go to the clinic. It's not far. I'm perfectly willing to submit to medical care. But only if it's necessary."

He shifted forward and tenderly caressed her face. "Just want you an' the baby to get the best care possible."

"The best care doesn't necessarily mean a lot of medical interventions," she said. "Sometimes the best care means sitting back and letting nature take over from here."

"Sounds funny, comin' from a doctor. Seems doctors are always tryin' to stop nature, or at least control it."

"I have a feeling most doctors haven't given birth," she replied wryly, pressing her lips to his and smoothing back his hair. She patted his place in bed to her left. "Get under the covers. You need to rest, too."

He climbed over her and got in beside her, then helped her shift down onto her side and cuddle up against him.

"How was Mother? Warm enough?"

"Just fine. I turned her, got her another blanket."

She rested her hand across his chest and sighed. "I feel so terrible about what happened. I should have known her house would attract thieves if no one was living in it. She must feel so helpless all the way out here."

"She sounded ready to take the next train out of here."

"If I weren't about to have a baby I'm afraid she might have." She sighed again. "I just don't understand it. She must realize if she goes home I'll have to hire her another nurse. A nurse she's probably going to hate no matter who I hire. She has to prefer living with us to having a stranger look after her."

"It ain't about that. It's about Boston bein' her home as much as Colorado Springs is our home. We gotta give her time to think this through." He glanced at her. "It weren't easy for you to leave home and come out West, remember? Leavin' your family and friends and everything you've ever known."

"That's true. Of course I wanted to get away, to do something new, but it was still frightening. I cried all the way to the train station. I remember Harrison driving me there and not knowing what to make of me. He didn't know what to do."

He smiled softly. "Your ma's goin' through the same thing right now. So maybe she needs to have a few tears about this before doin' it. Or maybe she'll decide the best thing to do is go back to Boston. Either way, she'll need us to stand by her."

"I wouldn't have cried so much if I had even an incline of what was waiting for me in Colorado Springs," she said, gliding her hand a little lower to caress her belly.

He grasped her hand and kissed it. "It's late, try an' get some sleep."

She sighed softly. "All right."

"Wake me up if ya get another contraction," he added.

"What? No, that's silly. Sully, it's nothing."

He glanced at her. "Just wake me."

She smiled wryly. "All right. I love you. Goodnight."

Sully laid a hammer, chisel and tenon cutters on his work bench, doing a brief inventory of his tools. Then he unrolled Stephen Sexton's drawings, studying them. He didn't like the idea that Preston had found him a customer. It made him feel indebted to him. But he had all the right tools to make the wheels Stephen wanted, and fifty dollars was so tempting. He leaned over his workbench, smoothing the drawings with one hand as he heard the barn door swing open.

"Morning," Michaela called cheerfully, wearing her shawl and carrying the egg basket.

He looked up with a soft smile. "Mornin'."

She slowly made her way over to him. It seemed her belly was growing larger and more cumbersome every day. Pregnancy was really starting to slow her down, and he wanted to do whatever he could to make it easier on her.

"Ya get any more contractions?" he asked worriedly.

"No, none. You were up at the crack of dawn. What are you doing?"

"Preston introduced me to a Mr. Sexton. Some rich businessman from back East. He wants these special wheels made up. Ya know that boy in school kids were talkin' about? Herman? That's his other son."

She gazed at the drawing. "What are those things? They look like spikes."

He glanced at her with amusement. "They are. Wants it to look like a Roman chariot."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Well, that's…original."

"And dangerous. I think I'd have to round 'em off so they wouldn't hurt anybody," he said, squatting down and sorting through a box of tools beneath the workbench. He found an axle gauge and another wrench and placed them above him on the bench.

"So does this mean we're starting our wheelwright business?" she asked hopefully.

"I ain't even said yes yet. I wasn't lookin' for customers. Preston just dumped him on me."

"Well, I think that's rather thoughtful of Preston to refer someone to you. How much do you think you would charge him?"

"He offered fifty dollars."

"Fifty dollars!" she exclaimed. "For wheels?"

"I said the same thing. He says it's hard to come by somebody who can do somethin' like this."

"Well, Sully, you have to take it. Fifty dollars? We wouldn't have to worry for months."

"I don't have to take anything." He slowly rose to his feet.

She gently clutched his arm. "I don't mean you have to. I just mean….I think we should seriously consider it. We could use the money, and he's sure to love your work. It'll help your reputation."

He sighed. "I ain't sure I want to get a reputation like that. You know how I feel about this kind of work."

"I know you don't exactly love it. I'm sorry about that." She stroked his arm. "You shouldn't feel you have to do anything you're not comfortable with. If you want to turn it down I'll support you."

He glanced at her belly, thinking about everything they would have to have for the baby in the coming months. She was right, they needed the money. Men went to work every day at jobs they didn't like to support their families. There was no reason he couldn't either.

"I'll tell him yes," he said resolutely.

She couldn't hide a bright smile. "You will?"

"We got a family to think about. A growin' family. Sides, it's just one job. If I don't like it, it'll be over soon enough."

"Yes. And perhaps this will be a good opportunity for you to try out being a wheelwright," she said hopefully. "Perhaps you may find you enjoy it more than you think."

"What do ya say ya go into town and look through Loren's catalogue, order yourself a new dress?"

"New dress? I don't need that."

"Wouldn't ya like to wear somethin' new at Brian's weddin'?"

She couldn't help looking pleased. "Yes, I suppose."

"Put it on our account. I'll pay it off soon as Sexton's wheels are done."

"Are you certain?"

He caressed her shoulder. "I'm certain."

She beamed. It had been awhile since they had last been able to justify such a luxury. She wore the clothes she had had for ages and just kept letting out the waists as her belly grew. She had to admit she had always had a weakness for beautiful fabrics and patterns and fashionable clothing, and sometimes missed Boston and how easy it was to keep up with the latest styles there. And she would especially love to have a new dress for Brian's wedding, as long as they could afford it.

"Oh, Sully. Thank you."

"Meantime, let me gather the eggs," he said, taking the basket from her. "You gotta take it easy."

"Sully, they're just eggs. I'm fine," she protested.

"In fact I think I better start takin' over most of your chores from now on."

"Sully," she said with a sigh.

"Don't worry, ya got plenty of other things to keep ya busy enough. Your ma for one. How's she doin' this mornin'?"

"Still carrying on about the robbery," she replied. "At this moment she's writing a long letter to the city police commissioner demanding that a constable be sent to patrol the area. And she says she's going to send a letter to the editor to the Boston Globe, too."

"That's your ma," he replied. "Let me take the kids to school, pick 'em up."

"You may be taking over my chores, but I'm still going into the clinic," she said resolutely.

"Only until two o'clock. Then I'm bringin' ya home."

"I know. Two o'clock," she grumbled.

He put his arm around her reassuringly. "Two more months. We can do it."

"Brian, you'll come down here on the right side with Matthew and come up to the front," the Reverend instructed from the front of the church, clutching his cane.

Brian got up from his seat in the front pew with a smile. Matthew stood up behind him and they walked up to the front. Sully watched him proudly from his seat on another bench beside Michaela. The children were playing catch with the ring bearer pillow in the back and doing their best to be patient and cooperative while the rehearsal went on.

Dorothy stepped forward and arranged the men carefully. "Now remember where you are. Go to the same spot next time," she instructed. "Brian, make sure you're turning inward slightly."

"Yes, ma'am." Brian smiled and gazed out at Sarah lovingly. She was standing in the back of the church with her mother, poised to walk down the aisle.

"All right, they're all set," Dorothy said, clasping her hands together.

The Reverend nodded. "Good. Then after Brian goes up to the front, the mother and father of the groom will walk down the aisle with the brass candle lighters and come light the candles that will be up here."

"That's us," Sully said. He glanced at Michaela, surprised to find her eyes closed. He gently squeezed her arm, rousing her. "Hey, Mother of the groom?" he murmured.

She opened her eyes. "Hm?"

He glanced at the Reverend. "Uh, we got it. We know what to do."

"Good," the Reverend replied. "Now once the candles have been lighted and the ring bearers and flower girl have walked down the aisle, Sarah'll walk down with Anna Marie."

Sully watched as Sarah grasped her mother's arm and they slowly made their way to the front of the church. He put his arm around Michaela. "I think maybe ya better take tomorrow off. Stay home," he whispered.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know, maybe cause you're so tired you're fallin' asleep in the middle of somethin' as important as this."

"I didn't get my nap today, that's all," she protested. "Just nudge me in the ribs next time."

"You're workin' too hard," he said impatiently, removing his arm from around her back.

"Sully, I'm leaving at two every day as it is. I'm being good."

"Maybe two ain't early enough."

She looked up at the front as Dorothy arranged Brian and Sarah to face each other and the Reverend began explaining something to them.

"I can certainly handle working for five hours," she said. "Besides, what are my patients supposed to do if I take off any earlier?"

"So we have Andrew come in and help. He said he would any time. You can't convince me you ain't tired. And now you're gettin' contractions, too?"

"It was one contraction," she whispered sternly. "It's perfectly normal to get them at this stage. It has nothing to do with how hard I may or may not be working."

"Still think you're doin' too much," he muttered.

"Fine. Think that," she said.

He sighed. "Michaela, I'm just sayin' I want ya to slow down, that's all. I don't wanna fight about it."

"You started it," she retorted.

He crossed his arms. "You're just mad 'cause I'm right."

"Mama, Red Eagle and Katie made the lace loose," Byron said, rushing over to her waving the ring bearer pillow. "Look."

Michaela took the pillow from him and examined the lace. A portion of it was coming off on one side. "How did this happen?"

"I didn't do it," Red Eagle protested. "It was him."

"It was not!" Byron cried. "I get blamed for everything! It was Katie!"

"It's not my fault," Katie said, joining them. "It wasn't my idea to play catch."

"Well, it's nothing Mama can't fix," Michaela said. "But I want you to treat this pillow a lot more respectfully from now on. Don't be playing catch with it."

"Remember the last time ya threw things inside?" Sully said, playfully grabbing Byron's arm and drawing him into his lap.

Byron giggled. "Yeah."

"Usually ain't a good idea, right?"

"Right," he said with another giggle.

"Right," Red Eagle echoed.

"Right!" Katie exclaimed.

Dorothy helped arrange Sarah and Brian to face the audience.

"And then I'll say, 'I now present Mr. and Mrs. Brian Cooper," the Reverend explained with a smile. "Sarah, you take his arm and you walk down the aisle."

"Now do we clap?" Byron asked loudly.

The Reverend chuckled. "Yes, now you clap."

The children clapped enthusiastically and the adults joined in as Brian and Sarah sauntered down the aisle, beaming from ear to ear.

"Good-lookin' couple," Sully remarked. He glanced at Michaela. "Almost as good-lookin' as us."

She glanced at him and smiled softly, clutching his arm.

Sully hung up Michaela's jacket on the rack in the clinic as she tied her apron.

"I'll be over at Robert E.'s if ya need me," he said. "Thought he might want to take a look at Mr. Sexton's plans. See what he thinks."

"That's a good idea."

"Have a good day," he replied with a smile, grasping her shoulder and kissing her.

"You, too," she replied with a sweet smile.

"Hey, don't overdo it," he added.

"I won't," she vowed.

She headed to her desk and sat down, sorting through some loose papers. She suddenly paused and pressed her fingers to her forehead. Another headache had developed on the drive to town. She had been so busy talking to Sully and the children she had more or less been able to ignore it, but now it was really throbbing.

She was convinced the headaches were just her body's way of telling her she should rest more and work less. She certainly hadn't counted on cutting back any more on her clinic hours than she already was, but now she might be forced to. In fact she was beginning to wonder if Sully was right, and she should just entrust the clinic to Andrew and really cut back on her hours before the baby was born instead of working right up until her due date like she had originally planned. She could rest at home and take it easy and get things ready for the birth and the new baby and spend time with the children. She hated to miss out on anything happening at the clinic, but she might be glad she took the time to rest, given how tiring the labor and delivery was sure to be, not to mention caring for a newborn. She decided she would talk to Sully about it tonight, though she had a feeling he would be all for it regardless, the way he was always harping on her to slow down.

Just as she was deciding maybe she should try to take a nap before her first appointment, someone banged on the door. Before she could even walk to the door Kirk threw it open, guiding his wife inside. Faye was in tears, cradling their baby in her arms. Her blouse and the baby's forehead were soaked with bright blood.

"She tripped on the porch stoop, Dr. Mike," Kirk explained frantically. "Hit her head hard."

"Put her on the table," Michaela instructed, heading to her cabinet and gathering a basin, some carbolic acid and some clean cloths.

"I was just makin' breakfast and I turned my back for one second," Faye said, shaking her head as she clutched a bloody dishtowel. "Just one second."

Michaela headed to the table and dampened a cloth with the carbolic acid. "Did she lose consciousness at all? Or has she acted lethargic since this happened?"

"Oh, no. She's been cryin' real hard the whole drive out here," Faye said.

Michaela pulled back the baby's eyelids and did a quick check of her pupils, then cleaned away some of the blood from her hairline. "Let's take a look at what you've done, sweetheart."

Danielle looked up at her and whimpered, suckling on her fingers.

"What do you think?" Kirk demanded.

"Oh, she'll need two or three good stitches," Michaela said.

"What about all the blood?" Kirk replied. "There was blood everywhere."

"Head wounds tend to bleed quite a bit because there's lots of blood vessels close to the skin. It looks a lot worse than it is. Here, hold that there." She pressed Faye's hand to the cloth and headed to her cabinet in search of her suturing needles and thread.

"Don't worry, darlin'," Faye soothed. "Dr. Mike's gonna fix you good as new. Mama and Daddy'll stay right here with ya." She glanced up. "We can stay with her, right, Dr. Mike?"

She smiled as she found her scissors and some cotton. "Of course."

Kirk suddenly looked very pale as he eyed the curved suturing needle she held up to the light. "I think I'll, uh, I'll wait outside." He scrambled outside and shut the door.

Faye glanced at the door with a sigh. "Kirk's not good with blood," she explained.

Michaela smiled and walked to the table. "Many men aren't. You'd be surprised." She peeled back the cloth again and examined the baby's wound. Danielle let out a low sob, eyes filled with tears. "Shh. This'll just take a moment and you'll be good as new."

She glanced at the clock as she went to work, trying to disregard her headache and the nagging soreness in her back whenever she stood for awhile. A patient needed her, and her own discomforts were irrelevant at the moment.

"Did that gown I ordered come in, Loren?" Michaela asked as she stepped inside the store, her basket tucked under her arm.

"Sure did, right here," Loren said, grabbing a large box and placing it on the counter, then taking off the top.

"Afternoon, Michaela, Loren," Dorothy said as she stepped inside. "What's this?"

"It's a gown I ordered to wear at Brian's wedding," Michaela said, pushing aside the tissue paper and lifting out the bodice.

"Oh, Michaela! That's beautiful!" Dorothy exclaimed, fingering the light blue silk. It had a tight fitting cuirasse bodice that extended far down past the waistline and a long line of pearl buttons.

"I hope it fits. It looks tight," Michaela said timidly.

"You can take it upstairs, try it on in my room. Go ahead," Loren offered.

Dorothy picked up the box. "Yes, go try it on upstairs. I'll help you."

Michaela smiled and followed her to the staircase.

Michaela made one last attempt to button the back of her skirt, and then dropped her hands at her sides and looked at her reflection dejectedly. The gown was ravishing and the color quite flattering on her, but unfortunately it was far too snug around the belly and more than a little uncomfortable around the bust.

"Oh, no," Michaela muttered. "I thought I ordered it large enough."

Dorothy tried to gather the fabric together in the back. "Well, you'll just have to let it out a little more."

"Between working at the clinic and looking after my mother, I don't know when I'll ever have time to make the proper alterations to it. The wedding's in four days."

"I'll do it," Dorothy immediately offered.

"Oh, Dorothy. I'm sure you're very capable, but you're busy yourself."

"I'll find the time. Sides, it's such a beautiful gown it'd be such a shame to send it back."

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. Thank you, Dorothy."

She smiled wryly. "You'll make it up to me someday. Now get dressed and I'll go get a tape measure from Loren so we can get your measurements right." She walked out of the room and shut the door.

Michaela looked at her reflection one last time, raised her eyebrows in disbelief and reached behind her to unbutton the gown. She slipped it off her shoulders and stepped out of it, then carefully laid it across Loren's bed to fold and put back in the box after she was dressed.

Just as she was reaching for her blouse strewn across a chair the room suddenly spun and she had to grab the bedpost to keep from falling. Perplexed, she clutched her belly and panted, blinking quickly and trying to regain her balance. Then, even more frighteningly, everything went dark for a moment. She sat on the bed and rubbed her eyes with her fingers. When she opened them again, her vision was clear and the room had stopped spinning. She sighed with relief and tried to regain control of her breathing.

Dorothy tore open the door, unraveling a tape measure. "Here we are. Oh, I’m sorry, Michaela! I thought you'd be dressed by now."

Michaela looked up at her with a wrinkled brow.

"Michaela, what's wrong?"

"I…Dorothy, could we take my measurements later? I think I should head home. I'm not feeling very well."

Dorothy approached her and eyed her skeptically. "Everything all right?"

She managed a nod. "Hm-hm. I think I'm just tired."

She rolled up the tape measure. "I'll drive you home. Finish gettin' dressed."

"Dorothy-"

"No buts," Dorothy said, patting her back. "The least I can do."

"Winifred," Elizabeth suggested as Michaela sat in a chair beside the bed and mixed some medicine with a glass of water.

Michaela shook her head.

She suddenly brightened. "I know! Temperance!"

"Claudette would love that one." She held the glass to Elizabeth's lips.

"Not more of this," Elizabeth protested.

"Take it," Michaela said persistently.

She sighed and drank it down. "What about Beatrice?"

"Good heavens, no. Mother, please. I have a headache and you're not helping."

"You have a headache? Well, what are you doing down here talking to me? Go lay down."

"No, that's not necessary. I'm fine." She put her stethoscope in her ears and leaned forward to listen to Elizabeth's heart. "Besides, we haven't done your afternoon exercises yet."

"Oh, Michaela. Can't we skip them just this once?"

"No, we can't skip them. We need to start working on stairs. I know you're ready." She put her stethoscope around her neck and wrote down Elizabeth's heart rate in her chart.

"Stairs!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "No, I'm not doing it! I can't!"

"You haven't even tried," Michaela replied. "Mother, you can do this. You have to listen to your doctor."

"That's a good one. Since when do you listen to your doctor? When's the last time Andrew saw you?"

"I saw him," she protested. "A month or so ago."

"It was two months ago and I think we should bring him out here and have him take a look at you. Why is it I have to submit to medical care but you don't?"

"Mother, that's different. I'm a doctor myself and I know the baby's fine. The heart rate's as strong as ever and it's been kicking me constantly."

"I'm not talking about the baby. I'm talking about you. I just have a feeling something might not be right," Elizabeth said worriedly. "Call it mother's intuition but there's something different about you."

Michaela swallowed hard. It seemed there was nothing that escaped Elizabeth. She had been feeling rather out of sorts lately, uneasy and nervous, but had managed to convince herself she was just imaging things and that nothing was wrong. But after becoming so dizzy at the store earlier, she had to admit she was really starting to worry that Elizabeth could be right.

"I think you're just trying to put off your exercises," Michaela murmured.

"I don't have to do them if I don't want to," Elizabeth retorted.

"With that attitude you'll never climb stairs even if you could."

"I can have whatever attitude I want. You may be able to control most things about me but you can't control that!"

"Oh, is that how you see it? That I'm controlling you?"

"Oh, Michaela. You control everything. You throw a fit if you're not the one in charge. Always have. You're just like your father."

"Good, I'm glad I'm like him," she retorted defensively.

"I put up with him for nearly half a century. I suppose I can put up with you."

Just then Sully opened the front door and ushered the children inside.

"Gran'ma!" Byron called, rushing into Elizabeth's room.

"Welcome home," Elizabeth said, holding out her arms.

He ran to her and hugged her, handing her a piece of paper with a purple figure sitting in a green wheelchair beneath a bright yellow sun.

"I drew this in school today. It's you."

"Oh, looks just like me," she said, kissing his head. "Thank you, sweetheart. We'll hang it on the wall."

Sully entered the room He immediately noticed the anger flickering in both women's eyes, and without even having to ask he knew they had been fighting. He quietly lingered in the doorway as Katie and Red Eagle filed in and hugged Elizabeth.

Michaela cleared her throat, packing her stethoscope back in her bag. "How was school?"

"Hey, Mama. Good," Byron replied, getting up from the bed and giving her a hug.

"We have a spelling test tomorrow," Katie said, taking a seat beside Elizabeth and clutching her arm. "Can you help, Gran'ma?"

"Of course," Elizabeth said, softening and leaning forward to give the child's forehead a kiss.

"Me, too, Gran'ma," Red Eagle said, taking a seat beside Katie.

"Byron, I want you to study, too," Michaela instructed, smoothing back his hair. "Go study with Grandma."

"All right," he muttered.

"All right, monkey. I'll make you some hot cocoa," she replied, pausing to cast a wry smile at Sully. She placed one hand on the bed for balance and got up from the chair.

Suddenly she felt a wave of dizziness overcome her and her vision blurred again. She pressed one hand to her brow and grabbed the back of her chair with the other. Before Michaela could fall Sully rushed to her side and grabbed her arms securely.

"Michaela!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Michaela, what's wrong?" Sully demanded, slowly guiding her back to the chair. "Here, sit down."

"Mama, you all right?" Byron asked hoarsely.

"I just got up too quickly," she said timidly, opening her eyes and forcing a small smile. "I was just dizzy for a moment."

Sully clutched her arm worriedly. "Does it hurt?"

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"Well? Aren't you going to tell him?" Elizabeth demanded, glaring at Michaela.

"Mother," Michaela said sternly. "It's nothing."

"What's nothin'?" Sully asked.

"She has a headache, Sully," Elizabeth explained. "A severe one. I think you should take her to Dr. Cook's immediately."

"I never said it was severe," Michaela protested.

"Seems like ya been gettin' a lotta headaches lately," he remarked.

"It's nothing," she protested. "They're so mild. I'm just tired."

"Just the same I think your ma's right," Sully said. "I think we better go see Andrew. Sides, been awhile since ya had a checkup."

"Of course I'm right," Elizabeth added.

"Sully, this really isn't necessary. I'll just drink some willow bark tea."

He helped her to her feet and put his arm around her securely. "No arguin'. Let's get your shawl. Elizabeth, can ya stay with the kids?"

"Of course," she murmured, putting her arm around Katie and swallowing hard.

Michaela took slow, deep breaths as Sully stared at her intently. He glanced at Andrew. He had placed Michaela's legs in stirrups, draped a sheet over them, and had been conducting a rather detailed examination for several minutes now. Sully couldn't tell by his rather studious expression whether it was good or bad news. Occasionally Michaela looked a little uncomfortable, but she wasn't saying a thing.

"What's goin' on?" Sully finally asked, his patience fast running out.

"Well, nothing. Cervix is closed, there's no dilation," he remarked, straightening. "Have you noticed any unusual discharge? Any spotting or fluid?"

"No, none," she replied.

Sully looked at her, then Andrew. He wanted to ask what all of that meant, if it meant Michaela was going to be fine, but he didn't know where to begin. As if sensing his thoughts Michaela reached her hand up and clasped his, squeezing it reassuringly and giving him a soft smile. He smiled back, not wanting to let on how frightened he was, and smoothed back her hair.

"Hey. You're beautiful," he whispered.

"Sully," she scolded, though she couldn't help smiling at him lovingly.

Andrew unraveled his cloth tape measure and placed it at the top of Michaela's belly, then drew it down to her pubic bone.

"Thirty-one centimeters," he said, quickly rolling up his tape measure and placing it aside. He drew the hospital gown over her belly and then dug into his pocket for his watch.

"Thirty-one. That good?" Sully whispered as he leaned against Andrew's examination table and tenderly continued to stroke Michaela's hair.

She nodded and squeezed his hand.

Andrew opened his pocket watch and pressed his fingers to Michaela wrist. He slowly glanced up.

"Have you been getting headaches frequently?" he asked.

She swallowed. "No. Just a few in the past month."

"She's been havin' contractions, too," Sully said.

Michaela sighed. "Hardly contractions. More like strong cramping. Only once."

"Oh, well, that's normal," Andrew replied. "What about the dizziness?"

She hesitated, glancing at Sully and moved by the look of dire concern in his eyes as he gazed at her.

Andrew closed his pocket watch. "Michaela, I can't help you to the best if my ability if you're not honest with me. You have to tell me everything that's been going on. I'm your doctor."

She nodded with a soft sigh. "I've blacked out a few times, when I stand. My vision blurs and then I can't see. But just for a moment."

Sully wrinkled his brow. "Ya shoulda said something," he murmured.

"Well, your pulse is normal, and the baby seems to be developing at a normal rate." Andrew grabbed her chart and opened it. "What concerns me is your urine is a little albuminous."

Michaela tensed and Sully looked at Andrew in confusion.

"It's, um, protein in the urine," he explained patiently. "It could be an indication of any number of things. Kidneys, the liver. Or it could be nothing."

"It could be toxemia," Michaela breathed.

"Or you might just have a bladder infection. That's not uncommon during pregnancy." Andrew grasped her hands and gave them a quick glance, taking note that her wedding band still fit her finger comfortably. "You don't seem to be retaining water. That's a good sign."

Sully swallowed nervously. "What's this toxemia?"

"Pregnancy nephritis. Kidney disease during pregnancy," Michaela explained, struggling to remain calm. "It can be dangerous if it escalates. I could get very sick, have convulsions, even a stroke."

"So how do ya stop it?" he asked. "Medicine?"

Her eyes welled with tears. "There's not much we can do. Except deliver the baby."

"Deliver the…We can't," Sully replied, shaking his head. "It's too early."

Andrew patted Michaela's hand reassuringly. "Right now I don't think your condition warrants that we deliver the baby. But we'll have to monitor you very closely from now on. If you start showing any more signs of toxemia, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He sighed. "Michaela, babies delivered at thirty-two weeks have been known to survive. If it comes down to it, I think we'll have a chance." He grasped her arm. "Here, why don't you sit up." Sully quickly moved to hold her other arm and they helped her sit up on the examination table.

Andrew scribbled some notes on her chart. "I'm going to put you on a low does of valerian in case it is just a bladder infection. It won't hurt you even if it's not."

"Valerian? But that'll make me sleepy," she protested.

Andrew closed her chart. "That's not such a bad thing."

"Andrew, I have children to care for. A mother to look after. Patients to see. I can't be drowsy and incoherent all day."

He put her chart on his desk. "About that. I don't think you should be making the trip into town anymore. In fact I know you don't want to hear this, but I strongly recommend we put you on bed rest."

Michaela glanced at Sully and nodded bravely. "All right. For how long?" she asked.

"I don't know yet. Probably the rest of the pregnancy if we have to."

"The rest of the pregnancy!" she exclaimed.

"Frankly, Michaela, at your age any complications concern me greatly. The only thing I know to prescribe is total pelvic rest. That means no activity whatsoever. It's the best thing you can do for yourself and your baby. You would prescribe the same thing if you were in my shoes."

"But two months of staying in bed?" she replied in disbelief. "I can't do that!"

"Michaela, for every day you stay pregnant, your baby is going to be one more day stronger once it's born. I'm trying to buy time here. The second you take a turn for the worse we're going to need to deliver your baby. Premature or not we'll have no choice."

She glanced down at her belly and caressed it worriedly.

Sully put his arm around her. "We can do this, Michaela."

Andrew squeezed her shoulder. "I'll check in on you tomorrow. We'll test your protein levels again. But come get me anytime if anything changes. I'll leave you to get dressed."

Andrew shut the door and Sully reached for the buttons down the back of the hospital gown and unfastened the top one.

Michaela suddenly let out a soft sob, struggling to hold back tears. He quickly moved in front of her and drew her into a tight hug.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine," he whispered, rubbing her back.

"Sully, something's wrong," she said, tears flowing down her cheeks as she held onto him desperately. "Something doesn't feel right. I haven't been feeling right for weeks. I just didn't realize it could be this."

He pressed his lips to her cheek. "We just had a scare is all. Now we just gotta keep ya in bed and everything'll go fine."

"You heard what he said. It's toxemia. Sully, I've seen patients die of that."

"That ain't what he said. He said he ain't sure," Sully replied firmly. "We're gonna have to watch ya real careful from here on out."

"Sully, how are we going to do this?" she replied, her tears increasing. "Now we have two people in our house in bed. I can't believe this. I never thought it would come to this."

He smoothed away her tears with his thumbs. "We'll figure it out. We'll make it work. I'll stay home and take care of ya."

"You're going to be dead tired looking after both Mother and I."

"No, I won't," he protested. "Sides, the kids can help. We can all work together on this. And I'll tell Mr. Sexton I changed my mind. I can't make his wheels right now."

"No, you need to work now more than ever. If I can't work what are we going to do? You have to make those wheels, Sully. We can't pass up that money."

"Ya sure?"

She nodded bravely. "Besides, at least you'll still be home. You'll only be a stone's throw away in the barn."

He kissed her cheek reassuringly. "It's gonna be all right. We'll all look after ya. It's gonna be fine. You and the baby both, you're gonna come through this just fine."

Sully opened the front door and guided Michaela inside, shutting the door after them. He took off her shawl and hung it up as Byron, Katie and Red Eagle rushed to greet them. Brian had since come home from the Gazette and was in Elizabeth's room.

"Mama, you're all right!" Katie exclaimed, hugging her.

Michaela stroked back her hair. "Of course I am. Something smells good. I'm starving."

"We helped Gran'ma cook supper," Katie explained. "It's almost done."

Brian wheeled Elizabeth into the front room and they both looked at Michaela worriedly.

"Are you still dizzy, Mama? Did Dr. Cook take a look at your tummy?" Red Eagle asked, grasping her hand.

"Everything's fine. Dr. Cook just thinks I'd better stay in bed and stay quiet for a little bit so the baby can grow nice and strong."

Byron raised his eyebrows, glancing at her belly. "I'm not sure how he's gonna grow any bigger! He must be crowded in there!"

"She," Katie corrected.

"Well, she's crowded, too," Byron replied, crossing his arms.

Sully tugged on Katie's braid with a soft smile. "Why don't all of ya take Mama upstairs, get her tucked in? Can ya do that? I'll bring her up some supper in a minute."

"Come on, Ma," Brian said, walking toward her. Byron grabbed Michaela's left hand and Red Eagle grabbed her right and Katie led the way.

"Let's get you to bed so the baby can grow, Mama," Byron said, guiding her to the stairs.

Sully watched them head upstairs and then slipped out of his jacket and hung it up. He slowly turned to face Elizabeth as she looked up at him solemnly.

"What's wrong, Sully?" she whispered perceptively.

He sighed and bent his head. "Dr. Cook put her on bed rest until the baby's born," he said unsteadily.

Elizabeth pressed her hand to her mouth. "Oh, no. Oh, Michaela."

"She's all right. She's fine right now," he said, approaching her wheelchair. "She's havin' a few symptoms that look like somethin' called toxemia. Means her kidneys stop workin' right."

"That sounds serious," Elizabeth said fearfully.

He slowly squatted to her level and rested his hand on the arm rest. "It can be. It could make her pretty sick. But now that we know about it, we know what to look for."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Oh, Sully. I knew something wasn't right with her. I couldn't put my finger on it."

He squeezed her arm. "It's a good thing ya said somethin', made her go see a doctor. Sendin' her to bed straight away is the best thing we can do right now. She probably shoulda been on bed rest weeks ago."

She took a deep breath, noticing the fear and concern in Sully's eyes. "Are you all right, Sully?"

He nodded bravely. "Yeah. Just a little shaken up maybe."

She patted his arm. "She'll be all right. The baby, too. Especially with all of us breathing down her neck. We won't let her get away with so much as a twinge. Not anymore."

"Thanks for bein' here."

She smiled softly. "I'm glad I am."

Byron straddled a log in the meadow and unpacked his lunch tin, unwrapping a ham sandwich and taking a bite.

"Wanna play marbles after we eat?" Red Eagle asked, joining him on the log.

"Sure."

"I just traded Billy a couple shooters for this butterfly agate." He held up a quartz marble with a few bands of red color.

Byron looked at it in admiration. "Oh! Good trade!"

"Hey, runt! Runt!" Herman called from across the schoolyard.

Byron spun around angrily.

"Byron, we gotta just ignore him like Mama said," Red Eagle told him.

"How come he doesn't bother you? He makes fun of us!" Byron exclaimed.

"Course he bothers me. But kids been teasing me my whole life. There's nothing you can do to make him stop. He's bigger than us."

"Lookie here. It's the chief and his sidekick the runt. How you two doin' today?" Herman jumped up onto the log, hands on his hips.

Byron glared up at him and took a bite of his sandwich.

Herman grabbed Red Eagle's lunch pail. "What's for lunch today? Your mama pack you a bottle to suckle on?"

"Hey!" Byron protested.

Herman dug through the lunch pail until he found a raisin cookie, then grabbed it and dumped the pail on the ground.

He took a big bite, jumping down. "Thanks. That's a real fine cookie."

"Give it back! That's not yours!" Byron cried.

"It is now." Herman raised his hand and pushed him firmly off the log. Byron fell hard on his side.

He whimpered and clutched his shoulder.

"What're ya gonna do now, baby? Go run cry to your mama?" Herman taunted. "She'll clean you up and give you a diaper change while she's at it."

"I don't wear diapers!" Byron shouted angrily.

Red Eagle scrambled off the log and helped Byron up.

"Ignore him," he said firmly.

"He took your cookie!"

"I don't care. He can have it."

Herman laughed and strolled back toward the schoolhouse, eating the cookie and searching for other children to pick on.

Byron gasped a few times and worked as hard as he could not to cry.

"You hurt?" Red Eagle asked softly.

"No." He inhaled unsteadily and picked up his lunch pail. "Come on, let's eat. You can have half of my cookie."

"Thanks," Red Eagle murmured, climbing back onto the log.

Brian wrote down a few figures in his ledger as Sarah clutched his arm and watched him as they sat in the café.

"Weddings sure can get expensive. Even small ones," he remarked, picking up his mug and taking a sip of coffee.

"Oh, here's my egg money from Mr. Bray," Sarah said, opening her purse and pulling out a few coins. "Add this to the books."

"Looks like we may have to do without music," Brian murmured as he scratched down the number. "We can't afford to pay anybody."

"That's all right," she said quietly.

He eyed her for a moment. "We'll find a way to get music. I'll scrape together every penny."

"No, it ain't that. It's just…I really been missin' my pa lately. You think it's a little strange, having my ma walk me down the aisle?"

He put his arm around her reassuringly. "It makes sense to me."

She hesitated. "It's just, I thought that ain't allowed."

"Who says? Ma's pa passed on, too, so my gran'ma walked her down the aisle when she married Sully."

She smiled, reassured. "Well, if Dr. Mike did it I think I can, too. How is she today, by the way?"

Brian sighed. "Ma? I don't know. All right I guess. Pa's real worried and seeing him like that makes me worried, too."

"Well, she'll be feelin' better soon and everything's gonna be fine."

"Dr. Cook said it might be awhile. She might even have to stay in bed until the baby's born."

Sarah swallowed hard. "I didn't know it was gonna be that long. How will she make it to the wedding then?"

Brian bent his head. "Maybe she's not gonna make it."

Sarah squeezed his arm and gazed at him pensively for a long moment. "Brian…what're we gonna do if she can't make it? We'll have to…we'll have to postpone."

He sighed. "We made so many plans. We got everything worked out to the last detail. Now to change everything?"

"But it's your ma. She can't miss it. I'd cry if my ma had to miss my wedding."

He shrugged. "I guess I just didn't want ya to feel like I'm ruinin' things for ya."

"Oh, Brian. We're gonna be sharin' a life together. If your family is going through something serious like this than so am I."

He gazed at her, never more in love with her. He gave her a soft kiss. "Then you sayin' you're all right with puttin' it off?"

"Well, I am a little disappointed. I love you and all I want to do is marry you. But not unless everybody we care about the most is there. We're just going to have to wait until your ma feels better and can come. If that's after the baby is born then so be it."

"More coffee for the lovebirds?" Grace asked with a big grin as she strolled over with her pot.

"Thanks, Miss Grace," Brian said with a smile.

She refilled their mugs. "Well, you two must be so excited what with that weddin' only three days away. Don't worry, I'm going to close the café all day and just cook your food. Oh, and the cake, I'm gonna make you New Orleans King cake and you're gonna just love it!"

"Miss Grace, we were wondering, would it be too much trouble to hold off on all that food?" Brian asked.

"What for?"

"My future mother-in-law isn't going to make it to the wedding, and I just can't let us get married unless she's there," Sarah explained.

"Dr. Mike? Why, what's the matter?" Grace asked with concern.

"Dr. Cook says she has to stay in bed for awhile, put her feet up," Brian explained. "She might have to stay there until the baby's born."

"Oh, no," Grace said. "Well, I hope she's all right. Sure, I'll hold off as long as you want. You just tell me when."

"Thanks, Miss Grace," Brian said, putting his arm around Sarah and gazing at her with a relieved smile.

Sully opened the bedroom door, carrying a few stalks of leaves in one hand. "Hey, ya awake?"

Michaela closed her book and instantly brightened. "Sully. Did you talk to Cloud Dancing?"

He sat on the bed and kissed her in greeting. "He sends his best. Says he'll come out to see ya when ya can. He wanted to give ya this." He handed her a few cuts of an herb with oval, shiny leaves and small, light blue flowers.

She sniffed the leaves. "What is it? It smells like lemon."

"It's sweet balm. It'll make a good tea."

"I didn't know the Cheyenne have a remedy for toxemia."

"They don't. He said to listen to your doctor. But this is supposed to help ya relax."

She smiled appreciatively and placed the leaves on the nightstand.

He grasped one of her hands in his hands and ran his fingers down hers. Then he caressed her face, pleased there didn't seem to be any change in her appearance. "No swellin' that I can see. Ya dizzy at all? Headaches?"

"No, I feel all right at the moment. But that medicine's making me sleepy just like I knew it would."

"Well, just rest then."

She let out a soft chuckle. "The irony is I really was going to slow down. I was going to talk to you about cutting back at the clinic next month and just relaxing here at home until my due date."

"Guess we'll just have to do that a little earlier than we planned. Andrew come by this morning?"

"Yes. He said there's no change."

He stroked her leg lovingly.

"I've had a lot of time to think about names today," she said. "There's not much else to do frankly."

"Come up with any more I hate?" he asked with a wry smile.

"I was actually thinking about her middle name. I was thinking, as much as I know my father adored my sisters and I, it would have been nice to carry on the Quinn name. He was so counting on me being a boy. He must have been a little disappointed, at least at first."

"I for one am glad ya were a girl."

She smiled softly. "Anyway, I was thinking it might be nice for her middle name to be Quinn. To carry it on."

He nodded agreeably. It was the first time he wasn't cringing at one of her suggestions. "Or if it's a boy his middle name can be Quinn, too."

"You actually like it?" she asked with surprise.

"Sure. I like your last name. I think ya got a good idea. Good way to keep it goin'."

She beamed. "We agree!"

He chuckled. "I guess we do. There's a first."

She hugged him. "I think Mother's going to like it, too. I think she'll be moved."

"Let's keep it a secret, not tell her until the baby's born."

"Oh, I'm so relieved we agree on something," she said with a chuckle. "I was beginning to lose hope."

He smiled and rubbed her back. "You come up with more good names like that and we'll be doin' a lot of agreein'." He kissed her cheek. "Hey, Brian's here. Wants to know if you're up to visitors."

She smiled. "Brian's here? Oh, of course. Yes, I want to talk to him."

"I'll send him up. And brew some tea," he replied, grabbing the herb, standing and heading out the door.

Michaela put her book aside and sat up a little straighter in bed, smoothing the covers. A moment later Brian rushed up the stairs to the doorway.

"Hey, Ma," he said, approaching the bed and hugging her warmly. "How ya feelin'?"

"Oh, sweetheart. Much better. I feel much better."

"Sorry ya gotta be in bed."

"Oh, Brian. I'm sorry all this is happening three days before your wedding. I'm supposed to be helping with everything and instead I'm stuck up here."

"About the weddin'. We're thinkin' what with you on bed rest we better hold off."

"No, we mustn't do that. After all the preparations we've made?" she protested.

"But can ya even come to the weddin'?" he asked. "Thought Pa said you're not allowed to get out of bed."

She swallowed hard. "Well, Dr. Cook told me I could get up if it's necessary. I would certainly think attending my son's wedding is necessary."

Brian smiled softly. "I don't think that's what he meant by necessary."

Her lip trembled ever so slightly and she struggled to put on a brave face. "Well, I may have to miss it. Sully and the children will tell me all about it."

He grasped her hand. "I can't get married without you there, Ma. It wouldn't be right. We want everybody most important to us there. If you can't make it then we gotta hold off."

She squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry, Brian. This is all my fault."

"No it ain't. It's fine. Honest," he said reassuringly. "Sides, we were thinkin' maybe we'd like to have a house built first after all. It's kinda noisy in town. It might be nice to get away from it all at the end of the day. Sides, the boardin' house don't have any place for Sarah to raise her chickens."

"Speaking of that, Brian," she began tentatively. "Sully and I were thinking about that land on the south end of our property, down by the creek."

"What about it?"

"I know how hard it is to save these days. And I know you just want to get married and start your lives. I was thinking it might be a little easier if you built your first homestead down there."

"Ma, you sayin' ya wanna give us a piece of land?"

"It's not going to be much. Just a few acres. But at least it's a start."

"Not much?" he murmured in disbelief. "Ma, I can't tell ya how badly we need that. Our own piece of land would help more than ya know."

"Well, then you take it. We can have Mr. Lodge draw up a deed for you."

He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know what to say. It's the best thing anybody ever wanted to give me. Thank you, Ma."

She smiled tenderly. "It's the least I can do after spoiling your wedding."

"Nothin's spoiled. We just want ya to be all right," he said. "Me and Sarah both. That's a lot more important to us than when our weddin' day is."

She hugged him lovingly, smoothing back his hair. "Oh, thank you, Brian."

"Just worry about havin' a healthy baby brother or sister for me. I want 'em at my weddin'," he replied with a soft smile.

Sully opened the front door, carrying a large black wheel with gold trim. Stephen Sexton and his son followed behind him. Sully laid the wheel on the table, then gestured at Michaela who was sitting in a wingback chair with her feet up, the chair turned to face the table so she could help Sully with his customers. She had a folder and a pile of paperwork in her lap and was holding a pencil, poised to write down anything they needed.

"My wife Michaela," Sully said, giving her a soft smile.

"I would get up but I'm afraid my doctor says I shouldn't be on my feet," Michaela said as she reached up and shook Stephen's hand.

"Oh, please. Stay where you are." He glanced at his son. "My son Frank. The birthday boy."

"Good morning," Michaela said.

"Ma'am," he replied, giving her a wily grin and removing his hat.

"It's fifty inches from top to bottom," Sully explained. "That's good oil-based paint with a clear seal. Should last years."

"Where are the spikes?" Stephen demanded.

Sully folded his arms. "I wanted to talk to you about those. I think they're dangerous. What if ya get into an accident?"

"My boy won't get into an accident."

"It's just if he does the spikes could seriously injure another horse or even a person," Michaela explained. She glanced up at Frank, who was staring at her intensely. She fidgeted a bit under his disturbing gaze and averted her eyes.

"I hired you to do wheels with spikes. Now I want them made with spikes," Stephen said firmly.

Sully slowly nodded.

"Yes, I like the paint. I like everything else," Stephen said, running his hand down one of the spokes.

Michaela glanced at Frank, who was standing behind his father and still staring at her. Suddenly he grinned widely and opened his mouth. He flickered his tongue at her in a provocative manner, and then licked the air a few times, staring at her the whole time. Shocked and embarrassed, Michaela quickly looked away again, suddenly feeling very helpless. Sully and Stephen were still examining the wheel, oblivious to Frank's vulgar actions. Under normal circumstances she would have stood up for herself, but she was afraid of costing Sully the job. They needed the fifty dollars no matter how rude these customers were.

"Well, go ahead with it, Mr. Sully," Stephen said firmly. "I'm very pleased. Frank?"

Frank quickly looked at him. "Huh? Yeah, sure. I just want sharp spikes."

"Don't you got any better toys? These toys stink," Herman protested, gazing down at the wooden soldiers and horses Katie, Byron and Red Eagle had set up on the porch.

"We don't have a lot of toys," Red Eagle said quietly, positioning a miniature canon in the center of the battlefield.

"How come? Are you poor?"

"No," Byron said defensively. "We mostly play baseball."

"That's a stupid game. I played it once in Memphis. Stupid."

"No, it's not," Katie said. "It's not stupid."

"It's not stupid," Byron retorted. "My pa coaches us."

"If I say it's stupid then it is. You have to listen to me."

"No we don't," Katie said, standing up angrily.

"Yes you do because your pa is workin' for my pa. My pa is the boss of yours, so that makes me the boss of you." He raised his foot and kicked the toy soldiers, sending them flying across the porch.

"Hey, you knocked it all over!" Byron cried, scrambling to gather the prostrate soldiers and horses. "Stop! Don't!"

Herman just laughed and jumped down the porch steps, climbing up into his father's wagon.

"Don't sit up in the wagon by yourself," Byron protested, clutching a handful of horses. "You could get hurt."

Herman took the reins. "You're such a sissy boy! You listen to everything adults tell you, don't you?"

"Please don't do that, Herman," Katie said. "You'll get hurt. I have to tell my pa."

"You tell and I'll lick all three of you good. Shush up and go play your stupid baby game." He gave the reins a light slap and clicked his tongue. "Come on, boy. Let's go for a ride. G'up."

"You can't drive! You're too little!" Red Eagle exclaimed, racing down the porch.

"Oh, yeah? Watch this." He slapped the reins harder and the horse whinnied and began a slow trot toward the road.

"Wait!" Katie cried. "Stop!"

Sully walked outside with Stephen and Frank, shutting the door after them. Stephen shook with Sully.

"I'll stop by next week. Let me know in the meantime of any problems," Stephen said.

"Papa, Herman took the wagon!" Katie said, running to him.

Byron and Red Eagle pointed out at the road frantically.

"He's out there, Pa!" Red Eagle added.

Sully looked out at the road, shielding his eyes.

"Herm! Now get back here with my wagon!" Stephen called, jogging down the steps.

Sully bolted after the wagon and quickly caught up with the horse. He grabbed the bridle. "Whoa, whoa! Easy boy, easy. Whoa."

Herman dropped the reins in defeat. "Aw, come on. I wanted to take a ride."

Sully quickly walked up to him and reached his arms up, lifting him down to the ground. "Son! That's dangerous!"

"Look at here, look at this big boy driving the wagon!" Stephen said with a laugh, picking him up. "I can't leave you alone for a second, Herm, can I?"

Sully eyed him impatiently. Stephen didn't seem to see anything wrong with his son's antics. He just kept laughing and tousling his hair. He glanced at Sully. "Right, I'll see you later, Mr. Sully. I'm looking forward to those wheels."

Sully folded his arms with a sigh. He returned to the porch and put his arm around Katie, rubbing her back.

"Papa, did you see what he did!" Red Eagle cried.

"I saw. You know horses can be dangerous sometimes, right? Ya always wanna make sure ya got me or your ma or an adult with ya when ya go near 'em."

"We know, Papa," Byron said, hugging him. "I just don't think Herman knows."

Sully gradually awoke as Michaela became restless beside him again, rearranging the covers and impatiently fluffing her pillows and she shifted on her side to face Sully.

She suddenly noticed he was awake and instantly stilled. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Ya don't sound too comfortable. You all right?" he whispered back.

She reached her hand behind her to hold her lower back. "It feels like the baby's pushing against my spine. It's stuck. I can't coax it to move."

"Back pain ain't a symptom of toxemia, is it?"

She smiled softly. "No. Just a symptom of pregnancy."

"Good." He paused. "I mean, it's not good your back hurts. But at least it's normal."

"Sully, you're not helping." She shifted again awkwardly, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "What should I do? How 'bout a warm compress?"

"No. Just go back to sleep."

Not satisfied with that, he propped himself up on one elbow. "Maybe if we elevated your legs? I'll find another pillow."

"All the extra pillows in the house are in bed with us right now," she replied dryly. She suddenly flinched, clutching her stomach. "Your child just punched me in the ribs."

He smiled softly. "How come it's always my child when it's causin' trouble?" He reached across her and touched her lower back, squeezing and kneading her sore muscles. "Try an' close your eyes, get some sleep."

"I can't sleep when I'm this uncomfortable," she said irritably. "What do you think I've been trying to do all this time?"

"All right, I got it. Hang on," he soothed.

"Sully, my back," she whimpered.

He pressed all the harder on her back, shifting up a little higher to get a better angle.

"No." She closed her eyes exhaustedly and reached behind her, touching her fingers to the small of her back. "Right there."

He quickly adjusted his hands to where she had pointed. "I got it. I got it. Just stay calm." He rubbed and rubbed devotedly, desperately trying to work away the pain and soreness.

"It's better. It's better," she murmured at last.

"Good," he murmured, easing the pressure a bit as he continued massaging.

"I'm so sorry, Sully. You must be so tired between looking after me and Mother and trying to make Mr. Sexton's wheels."

"It's all right. I ain't tired."

"Where did you say he's from?"

"Mr. Sexton? Tennessee, right?"

"Oh."

He paused a moment. "What'd you think of him?"

"I don't know. He seemed all right I suppose. It was his son who made me a little ill at ease."

He worked his hands up to rub her shoulders. "I noticed him starin' at ya. I'm sorry, I shoulda said somethin' to him."

She turned her head to look at him. "He's your customer. You have to be polite," she murmured, the troubled expression on her face betraying the fact that she was a lot more upset than she was willing to let on.

"Michaela, he didn't do anything else did he?"

"Sully, I don't want you to overreact. It was nothing."

"What'd he do?" he demanded. "Michaela, tell me."

"He just he…he was moving his tongue in a suggestive manner. Just for a moment."

"At you?" he blurted.

She nodded.

He fell back against the pillows, irritated. "Ya shoulda told me before."

"I didn't want you to lose them. They might very well have walked out if I spoke up."

"Fifty dollars ain't worth seein' ya put in a position like that."

"Don't say anything. Just make their wheels," she said, caressing his arm reassuringly.

"This is exactly why I never wanted to get into a business like this. People from all walks of life comin' into my home."

"Well, I've learned you just can't avoid things like that. I've certainly had several less than polite patients come into my clinic. But fortunately I've found there's a lot more kind and generous people out there than unpleasant ones."

"I won't let him come near ya again, all right?" he murmured, smoothing back her hair. "I won't let that happen again."

"I know you won't." She kissed him appreciatively.

"Mama," Byron suddenly cried plaintively through the door. He knocked softly and then let out a series of wet coughs. "Mama."

"Sully," Michaela murmured.

He drew the covers up to her shoulders. "Shh, I got him. Just stay here." He stood and opened the door just enough so he could slip out. He stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind him.

Byron was standing in his nightshift, looking up at him tiredly. "I want Mama," he murmured.

"Mama's gotta stay in bed. Tell Papa what's wrong."

"Papa, I keep coughin'. I can't sleep."

"Ya feel an asthma attack comin'?"

He touched his chest. "Yeah. Maybe a little one." He coughed again, hard, and Sully squatted down to his level, smoothing back his hair.

"Hang on, son," he soothed. "Papa's gonna take care of ya."

Michaela suddenly opened the door, wearing her bathrobe and holding onto the doorframe for support. "What's wrong?" she murmured hoarsely.

Byron immediately brightened and ran to her, hugging her. "Mama!" he cried.

She caressed his head as Sully watched her worriedly.

Byron broke into wet coughs again, losing his grip on Michaela and hunching over. He suddenly brought up some mucus, and Michaela just as quickly grabbed a handkerchief from her bathrobe pocket and held it beneath his mouth.

"It's all right, sweetheart. Here, spit."

He spit it out and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry, Mama."

"Hush. Mama'll take you downstairs." She held Byron's hand and glanced at Sully. "He needs a breathing treatment."

He nodded in agreement, gently clasping her arm to steady her as she led the little boy toward the stairs and down to the kitchen. He certainly didn't want to see Michaela out of bed, but their son needed her help. They would just have to hope that the breathing treatment would take effect quickly, Byron would feel better and they could put him back to bed, and then return to bed themselves.

Sully lifted Byron onto the table as Michaela lit the stove and put the tea kettle over a burner.

"Could you get my medical bag?" she asked.

Sully hurried to the cabinet near the door and found Michaela's bag. He quickly returned to the kitchen, putting it on the table.

She sat at the table and pulled out her stethoscope, putting it in her ears.

"Breathe deeply if you can," she instructed, drawing in her breath and letting it out in demonstration. She pressed the bell to the little boy's back and listened intently, moving the bell around his back. Then she shifted to listen to his chest.

"Wheezin'?" Sully murmured.

She nodded, removing her stethoscope and putting it in her bag. "Could you get a basin and put the mullein in it? And we'll need some towels."

He rushed to do what she had asked, finding a basin beneath the sink and the packet of herbs in her medical bag. He tore it open and dumped them all in the bowl, then found some fresh towels in one of the drawers.

Byron rubbed his eyes tiredly and continued to cough intermittedly and Michaela held his hand, doing her best to put aside her own discomfort for the moment as they waited for the water to boil.

At last the teakettle began steaming and Sully brought the basin to the stove, picking up the kettle with a towel and pouring the hot water over the dried leaves. He carried the basin to the table and set it on the table. Byron shifted down to the chair beside his mother and leaned over it.

"Here we are, my darling," Michaela murmured, unfolding a towel and placing it over his head. "Breathe it in."

"It smells bad," he protested.

"Shh, deep breaths. In and out," she instructed. She shifted in her seat and suddenly stood up, walking to the sink restlessly.

Sully watched with raised eyebrows as she hunched over the sink and touched her hand to the small of her back. She was clearly in a lot of discomfort, but until now she had managed to keep a straight face around Byron so he wouldn't be frightened.

"Michaela, let's get ya back in bed."

She shook her head, grimacing. "No, I'm not leaving my son like this."

"I think he'll understand," he whispered.

"Sully, please. I'm all right."

"What's going on here?" Elizabeth demanded, wheeling her chair into the room. She was in her nightgown and her hair was in a long braid down her back.

Sully stepped toward Byron and laid his hand on his back. "We had to give him a breathin' treatment. He was coughin'. Sorry to wake ya."

"Don't be sorry," she murmured, making her way slowly to the table.

"I'm havin' a breathin' treatment, Gran'ma," Byron said from beneath the towel.

"Yes, dear," she murmured, patting his back. She glanced at Michaela and then Sully. "She's supposed to be on bed rest, remember? Sully, take her back upstairs this instant. I'll sit with him. Michaela, listen to your mother and go back to bed."

"Let's take some of this hot water up, Michaela," Sully said, grabbing a basin and filling it with water from the teakettle. "Get ya a warm cloth for your back."

"What's the matter with your back?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Nothing," Michaela said dismissively. "The baby's just in an uncomfortable position. She won't move."

"Michaela, you look like you're in agony," Elizabeth said.

"No, I'm all right," she insisted. "It's Byron I'm worried about."

Elizabeth turned back to the table where Byron had taken the towel off his head and was watching his mother apprehensively.

"Your back hurt, Mama?" Byron whispered, swallowing hard.

Michaela slowly approached him. "A little. Do you think you can sit with Grandma so I can lay down?"

"All right," he said agreeably.

"Good boy," she murmured, kissing his head.

"Let me know if he doesn't get better, Mother. Call me," Michaela said.

"I will. Now go to bed. I have him," Elizabeth said insistently.

"Come on, Michaela," Sully whispered, gently putting his arm around her waist and guiding her to the stairs.

Elizabeth shook out the towel and folded it in half.

Byron watched her a long moment. "What's the matter with Mama?"

She patted his arm. "Sometimes having a baby doesn't make you feel very comfortable. Don't worry, she'll feel all better once your new sister is born. Your pa and your grandmother are going to take care of her until then."

"Oh. Good," Byron said with small smile. "Good thing you live with us now."

She smiled softly, draping the towel over his head. "Let's finish your treatment, sweetheart. Breathe deeply."

"That ain't too hot, is it?" Sully asked as he poured a bucket of steaming water into the tub. The children were in school, Brian was in town and Elizabeth was taking her morning nap. He decided it was a good time to treat Michaela to a relaxing herbal bath.

"No, it's fine," she replied with a soft smile.

"How's your back?"

"A lot better. Warm water feels nice."

"Good. I'll heat some more," he said, returning to the stove and grabbing the kettle. Just as he was walking to the sink to fill it Michaela abruptly shifted in the tub.

He spun around as she leaned all the way forward, got on her knees and grabbed the edge of the tub. She bent her head and closed her eyes, pressing her brow against one arm.

"Michaela, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm having a contraction again."

"Another one?" He put the kettle aside and crouched beside her, tenderly rubbing the back of her hand as she closed her eyes and focused on breathing. "Ya look so tired," he murmured. "I love you."

He was reassured when she smiled softly and turned one hand over to gently clasp his. He stroked her hair and waited patiently for it to be over. Finally she opened her eyes and looked at him with surprise.

"What's it feel like?" he asked. "Just cramps still?"

"In the tub it feels like nothing," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Just a little tightening around my belly. It wasn't painful at all."

He kissed her head. "That's good. The warm water helps."

She glanced at the water, intrigued. "Warm water does help. Sully, perhaps I could use the tub when I go into labor."

"What do ya mean?" he asked curiously.

"I mean labor in here. If the water helps when I'm having practice contractions, I don't see why it wouldn't help when I'm having real ones." She squeezed his hand. "Would you mind terribly bringing the tub upstairs and filling it? I know that's going to be a chore."

He swallowed, a little taken aback by her unusual suggestion. "No, it ain't that. It's just, what if the baby comes out in the water? It could drown."

"No, it wouldn't drown. Besides, I would get out to deliver the baby."

He raised his eyebrows, not convinced.

She paused. "You and Mother have both used the hot springs as therapy. It did wonders for both of you."

"Just don't think that's the same."

"Well, it was just an idea," she said softly. "We don't have to."

"No, that's fine. Whatever ya wanna do. If ya think water's gonna help then I'll fill the tub for ya. Just tell me when."

She looked at him with relief and pure adoration. "I appreciate you so much, I haven't told you that lately," she said, gently clasping his shirt and drawing him close to kiss him. "Other husbands would just make me go to a hospital. They'd never be receptive to any of this."

"I figure you're the one havin' the baby. How ya go about that should be up to you."

"But you're the baby's father. You should have some say, too."

He gently caressed her cheek. "I appreciate ya givin' me some say. But I want you to just do whatever ya feel ya need to do. And don't feel like we can't change our minds if somethin' ain't workin'." He kissed her head. "Michaela, fact is we gotta prepare ourselves there's always a chance ya might need an operation. All our plans won't matter then."

"You know what else I appreciate about you?"

"What's that?"

"That you want to be here when our baby's born," she replied, gazing at him lovingly. "That you want to be with me, support me."

"I need to," he replied, gently kissing the tip of her nose. He stroked her hair from her brow. "How ya been doin'? Any dizziness, headaches?"

"Not at all. And that uneasy feeling that something's wrong has completely disappeared. I feel much improved right now."

He smiled with relief. "Glad to hear that."

"I'm hoping it was just some sort of bladder infection. I'm thinking perhaps I could even get out of bed."

"We'll see about that. We'll have to ask your doctor."

"I thought I was the doctor," she said defensively.

"Not right now. You're the patient," he replied wryly. "And that means ya gotta listen to us for once."

Sully spotted the children outside the schoolhouse, the last three students left. Teresa was waiting patiently on the porch, wearing her shawl and holding her purse and a basket. He suddenly realized he must be a little late, and he increased his pace. He wasn't always as punctual as Michaela tended to be, relying on the sun as his guide for what time it was when Michaela was always consulting a clock or her father's pocket watch and had probably never been late picking them up. But the children didn't seem to mind his tardiness. Katie was happily chatting with Teresa, Red Eagle was drawing in the dust with a stick and Byron was rolling a wooden hoop and dowel nearby.

Byron was the first to notice him. "Papa!" he called. He lost control of the hoop and it went wobbling in Sully's direction. Sully caught it with a smile and moments later reached Byron and picked him up, hugging him.

"I'm not too late, am I?"

"It's all right, Papa," Byron said, hugging him tighter.

"I'm sorry, Miss Teresa," Sully said, putting the hoop over Byron's head playfully. "I know ya must want to get home yourself."

Teresa stood and put her arm around Katie. "Don't give it another thought. We had a nice talk."

"Papa always has to pick us up now because Mama has to stay in bed," Byron explained.

"She got big! She's almost gonna have a baby!" Red Eagle added.

"Yes, I know," Teresa replied with a soft smile. "How is everything at home? How is Dr. Quinn today?"

Sully nodded. "As well as can be expected. Thanks."

Teresa handed him the basket. "Fresh vegetables from my garden. Carrots and fennel and rhubarb."

He looked inside the overflowing basket in disbelief. "This all for us?"

"I know how hard it must be with Dr. Quinn in bed. I haven't had time to cook you a whole meal. But I thought this would help in the meantime."

"Thank you, Miss Teresa. It does. Everybody's been real generous."

Teresa handed Byron his schoolbooks. "I'll see you tomorrow, children. We'll be studying a new explorer. Ferdinand Magellan!"

"Bye-bye, Miss Teresa," Red Eagle called.

"Bye!" Katie echoed as she grabbed Sully's hand.

"Ya have a good day at school?" Sully asked as they headed toward town.

"We're learning about explorers," Red Eagle explained. "And we're gonna make a map of the world that shows all the places they sailed."

"Sounds good," Sully said.

"Is Mama all right?" Katie asked.

"She's all right. She's just at home bored in bed. You ready to go home and cheer her up? The wagon's over by Robert E.'s."

"Sounds good!" Byron said with a smile as they crossed the bridge.

Sully chuckled and patted his back just as he spotted Stephen Sexton's son Frank stepping out of the saloon.

"Oh, Mr. Sully," he called, his legs slightly unsteady as he stepped down from the porch.

Sully narrowed his eyes at him and put Byron on his feet.

"There's that man you're makin' the wheels for, Papa," Red Eagle said.

"How much longer are those wheels going to take?" Frank asked.

"You'll get 'em on time," Sully said rigidly.

"Are you heading home now? I'll follow you, take another look at how it's coming in."

Sully stepped toward him angrily. "I think it's best ya stay away from my property from now on. And my wife. You wanna see your wheels I'll bring 'em out to you."

He held up his hands. "Hey, take it easy. What'd I do?"

"You know exactly what I'm talkin' about," Sully retorted loudly.

He chuckled and folded his arms. "Well, I've just tried to be friendly. Trying to be a good southern gentleman. Didn't know folks around here don't take kindly to that."

Sully eyed him angrily and then picked up Byron, not wanting to make a scene out of it in front of the children. "Let's head home," he murmured, grabbing Katie's hand again.

Sully gathered the several boys and girls on his baseball team at the bottom of the porch. He removed his baseball cap and rested one leg up on the first step. Michaela was watching the practice from the porch, reclined on the bench against a thick pillow, an afghan spread across her lap as she clutched a book. If she wasn't going to be able to travel into town to see their game, she at least wanted to be at their practice.

"All of ya worked real hard today," Sully said as the children looked up at him reverently. "Simon, ya made some good plays at third base. Byron, your curve ball gets harder to hit every time. And the girls have really gotten better at hitting."

Katie smiled and held her glove to her chest.

"Tomorrow I want ya to bring just as much heart to the field," Sully went on. "We're gonna try our best, use everything we've learned, and we're not gonna let the Eagles be in charge of us. Let's have a good fair game. All right, go on home and get a big supper and some sleep."

"Thanks, coach!" several of the players shouted as they all gathered their bats and balls and gloves and headed out to the main road.

Byron eagerly ran to pick up the bean sacks they used as bases and Sully ascended the porch.

"Good practice," Michaela said with a smile. "That was good fielding, Red Eagle."

"Thanks, Mama," he said, approaching her and giving her a kiss.

Byron ran up the stairs with the bases, his energy never-ending. "Did you see my curve ball, Ma?"

"I certainly did. I don't know how you do it."

Sully took off Byron's baseball cap and tousled his hair. "Go inside and get washed up. Ya smell."

Byron grabbed the hat from him, scowling teasingly.

"Get a glass of milk and some cookies," Michaela called. "In the icebox."

Sully crouched beside her as the children rushed inside. "How'd we look?"

"You're really coming together, Sully. Certainly everyone's improved since your first practice."

"Still don't know if we're gonna be much competition for Preston's team. Maybe the Wolves shoulda got themselves a better coach."

"Sully, it's not your coaching," she said resolutely. "If you worked those poor children every day for hours on end rain or shine they'd be able to play like Preston's team can, too. But that wasn't the point of the baseball league."

"You're right. Point was to have fun."

"And are you having fun?"

He smiled softly. "Yeah. It's nice to do somethin' like this with our kids."

"It's nice watching you with them," she replied lovingly.

He glanced at her hands and was pleased to see they looked normal. "How ya feeling? I don't think there's any swellin'."

"So much better. You know, I'm glad Andrew put me on bed rest. This has been a good chance to relax a little and catch up on some sleep."

"Good."

"In fact I'm feeling so well right now I think I'm ready to be up and around again."

"Not unless Andrew says ya can," Sully replied resolutely. "I want his permission first."

"I was thinking perhaps you could bring him out here and see what he thinks."

"Now?"

"Yes."

He thought about it a moment. "Tell ya what, let's give it one more day. Ya still feel good in the mornin' I'll ride out and get him, we'll have him take another look at ya. Ask him if ya can get up."

She smiled. "Thank you, Sully. I can't wait until tomorrow."

He caressed her cheek. "I know ya just wanna get up, get back to normal. Just want us to make sure that's the best thing for you and the baby before we do anything."

She nodded. "I know. Me, too."

He glanced at the book in her lap. "What's that? That the baby names book?"

She opened it with a sigh. "Required reading from Mother. I'm supposed to make my way through it by tomorrow and report back to her."

"Come across any ya like?"

"You really want to fight about this right now?"

"Ya found one," he said perceptively.

"Well, there is one that I've grown rather partial to." She opened up the book to the Ms and looked at him hopefully. "Maggie. That's a pretty name, don't you think? Maggie Quinn Sully."

Sully tried to keep a straight face. He swallowed hard and lowered his eyes.

"You hate it," she said dejectedly, closing the book. "I knew you would. You hate all the names I like. This is hopeless."

"No, I don't hate it," he protested. "It's nice."

"Sully, at least give it a chance to grow on you. Just because you don't like it initially doesn't mean you'll never like it."

"I like that one. I do," he replied, resting one hand on her knee. "It's just, Michaela, it don't mean anything."

"Yes it does. It means pearl."

"That ain't what I mean. I'm sayin' there's more to it than just findin' a name that sounds good to us. We named Katie after my ma. My ma was the most important person in my life until she died. And Byron's my namesake. Those names, they're special to us."

She took a deep breath, slowly nodding. "Well, is there anyone who you feel you want to recognize right now?"

He shrugged. "Just Cloud Dancing."

"Sully, I adore Cloud Dancing, but giving our baby an Indian name? It's difficult enough for Red Eagle."

"I know. I don't want our child to feel like its name is a burden to it either."

"There's just so much to think about. Does the name sound nice to us, will the child like it, how does it sound with your last name? Can we somehow honor those most important to us in the process? No wonder Mother's worried she's going to be born without a name."

"That's another thing. Your ma's got ya so convinced you're havin' a girl ya don't even wanna think about that not happening. We're gonna have to start from scratch this baby turns out to be a boy."

"We don't need to look at boys' names. I know it's a girl."

"Michaela, there's no way to know for sure. This ain't a good idea. Just our luck it'll be a boy, and you're gonna be real disappointed."

"I'm just not going to know what to do if it's a boy," she murmured, tenderly stroking her belly. "What if he reminds us of Jack?"

He swallowed hard. "That why ya don't want a boy?"

She grasped his hand. "Sully, of course I want whatever child we've been blessed with. Boy or girl I'll be thrilled. I'm just afraid a boy will feel like we only meant him to be a replacement for the child we lost."

"He won't feel that way. Not if we don't let him," he said resolutely.

"That's not what we're doing, is it, Sully?" she whispered, looking up at him as her lip quivered ever so slightly. "Having a baby just to replace him."

"We're havin' a baby cause we love each other and we want our family to grow," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it. "I understand that scares ya. But remember what the kids said? Jack sent this baby to us. I think they're right. In case ya forgot we didn't exactly plan on this happenin'."

"We weren't exactly careful either."

"Michaela, we tried to get ya pregnant for six months. We tried everything, remember? We got so discouraged we quit. Then ya thought ya were goin' through the change. Now it happens without even thinkin' about it? Far as I'm concerned this baby's a miracle."

"You're right, she is. She is a miracle," Michaela replied tearfully. She quickly covered her mouth. "Sorry. He. It, I mean. It."

He laughed softly, leaning forward to kiss her. "But I guess it would be nice to have another girl, huh? I think Katie'll cry she ends up with another brother."

She smiled, nodding and giving him a loving hug.

"All right. Let's get ya back up to bed," Sully said, rising to his feet and removing the afghan from her legs.

He placed the afghan over the side of the bench and then held out his arms for her to hold onto. Getting up was becoming so awkward and next to impossible without help, but Michaela was grateful Sully was usually right there to assist, and never teased her about it. She smiled at him sheepishly and slowly rose to her feet. Just as he was grabbing the afghan to place over her shoulders she stumbled a bit and closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to her brow.

He immediately reacted, dropping the afghan and tightly clutching her arm. "Michaela, what is it?"

She wrinkled her brow, shaking her head.

"Are ya blackin' out?" he asked fearfully. "Michaela, talk to me."

"My vision's blurry," she explained hoarsely.

"Sit down," he said, guiding her back to the bench. "Are ya dizzy? Maybe if ya bent forward a little. Put your head between your knees."

She blinked several times and struggled to lean forward with her belly in the way.

"Katie!" Sully shouted.

Katie immediately appeared in the doorway, holding a cookie.

"Kates, go get your mama some water, all right?" he told her nervously.

"All right," she said, watching her mother fearfully for a moment before rushing back inside.

"Take some deep breaths," Sully instructed, rubbing her back. "I got ya."

"It's better now that I'm sitting," she finally spoke up. She blinked a few more times and straightened. "My vision's clearing now. It's passing."

"Good," he murmured as Katie returned with a glass of water. He took it from her and gave it to Michaela. "Drink some of this. Then we're gonna get ya inside where it's cooler."

"What's the matter, Mama?" Katie asked hoarsely.

"Mama just got a little dizzy," Sully explained. "Think you and Gran'ma could stay with her while I go get Dr. Cook?"

Katie nodded bravely and clutched Michaela's hand.

"All right, we gotta get ya in bed. Let's try this again," Sully said, putting the glass aside and holding onto her arms. "Take it easy."

Andrew felt Michaela's pulse and looked at his pocket watch. Sully stood beside him and watched dotingly, gently clasping Michaela's free hand in his. She gave him a soft, reassuring smile and rested back against the bed pillows tiredly.

"She still got dizzy, even though she got up real slow," Sully said worriedly.

Andrew closed his watch. "Any more headaches?"

She shook her head.

"That's a good sign. She's gonna be all right," Sully spoke up softly. "Right?"

"Your protein levels are still on the high side," Andrew explained. "I'm worried about what effect this could be having on your kidneys to see it continue like this for so long." He opened his bag and pulled out a dark bottle, placing it on the night table.

"Castor oil?" Sully murmured, glancing at the label.

"You think I should try to induce labor," Michaela said solemnly.

"I think we should seriously consider it."

"No," she replied simply. "It's too early."

"Your cervix is dilated slightly. We could break your water. If we put it off too long and you suddenly become ill, we may not have time to wait for you to deliver naturally. I'll have to perform a caesarian section."

She took a deep, brave breath. "I'm willing to risk it."

"You know how dangerous that surgery can be. You don't want to subject yourself to it if at all possible. Michaela, you've made it to thirty-three weeks. I'm certainly much more comfortable doing this now than I was when this first happened." He sighed. "You could be causing permanent damage to your organs in the meantime. Michaela, I wish we had some sort of conclusive test for toxemia, but we don't. I'm just worried that you could be sicker than you look. It's one of the most difficult disorders to diagnose. And we know so little about it."

"I know how I feel, and I'm not ill enough to warrant this," she replied firmly. "I'm concerned about why I'm spilling protein just like you are. But not enough to intentionally deliver my baby when I know how premature she is right now."

"It's often difficult to gage how ill a patient with toxemia is until it's too late. I'm telling you, this is the safest option."

"The safest option for me, perhaps," she murmured. "But not for my baby."

"The decision is yours and Sully's. Just think about it," Andrew replied, closing his medical bag and standing up.

"Thanks for comin' out here," Sully said quietly as he opened the bedroom door. Katie, Byron and Red Eagle quickly backed up from the door and leaned against the hallway wall, looking up at Sully guiltily.

"Afternoon," Andrew said with an amused smile.

"Afternoon, Dr. Cook," Katie whispered, watching as he headed downstairs.

Sully couldn't be upset that the children had been spying. They had picked up on the fact that all was not right with their mother, and they only wanted to make sure for themselves that she was all right, just as he did.

"You wanna see Mama?" he asked softly.

They all nodded eagerly and rushed into the room. Michaela instantly brightened and held out her hand to them. Katie clasped it tightly.

"Mama, you all right?" she whispered.

"Were you listening?" she asked. "It's all right. Mama's not angry."

"Yeah, we were trying to. But we couldn't hear much," Byron explained. "Just lots of big words."

"Well, Dr. Cook just thinks the new baby might be coming a little sooner than we planned," Michaela told them gently. "But that's all right. We'll just have to get everything ready for her as quickly as we can."

"We'll help," Red Eagle said.

"Yeah, what should we do, Mama?" Byron asked. "I can go get some blankets."

"Right now I just want you to sit with me," she said, lovingly caressing his cheek. "Come sit up by Mama."

They all climbed up beside her and hugged her tenderly. Sully folded his arms and glanced at the bottle of castor oil. He knew Michaela was never going to want to induce her labor until she absolutely could not carry on with her pregnancy a moment longer. But this time, he feared her optimism and resoluteness could cost her her life.

Sully opened the drawer near the door where they kept their loose cash and pulled out a few bills. He handed them to Andrew.

Andrew glanced at them reluctantly. He knew Sully was staying home with Michaela and hadn't been working very much, and right now Michaela wasn't working at all. "Sully, if you'd like, we could put off the payments. Some of my patients have accounts with me just like Loren offers credit as his store." He smiled softly. "Don't tell Preston that."

"No, it's all right. I wanna pay ya upfront," Sully said.

Andrew slowly took the money and put it in his coat pocket. "All right. Thank you."

"Thank you," Sully replied softly.

Andrew put his medical bag on the cabinet and folded his arms. "Sully, I'm hoping it won't come to this. But I think I should tell you what to do if she does have a seizure."

He swallowed hard. "Is that gonna happen?"

"I don't know. As long as she stays pregnant it's certainly a possibility." He unfolded his arms. "The important thing is to stay calm. Get her flat on the floor or the bed if you can, and then turn her head to the side."

"Would water help?"

"No, no. Don't give her any fluids. And there's no need to hold her down. Just allow the seizure to run its course. It should stop momentarily."

He nodded slowly, eyes filled with fear.

He touched his arm reassuringly. "Sully, she's welcome to convalesce at my clinic. Certainly I could monitor her a lot better there."

"She wants to be at home," Sully said with a soft sigh. "Still wants the baby to be born here."

"Well, I'll do all I can to support that decision. I don't see why things can't continue as planned as long as she doesn't require an operation."

Sully shook his hand. "Thank you, Andrew. Michaela appreciates this. And so do I."

"You're welcome," he replied. "And don't hesitate to come get me, day or night."

"We won't," Sully replied, opening the door and seeing him out.

Byron threw up the front door frantically and ran out onto the porch. He shielded his eyes, spotting Sully in the corral brushing down his horse.

"Papa!" he screeched. "Papa, come quick! It's Mama!"

Sully dropped the brush and climbed over the fence, running toward the house. He raced up the stairs and inside.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he blurted, out of breath.

Elizabeth was sitting in her wheelchair near the wingback chairs, in hysterics. "Sully, do something!" she pleaded tearfully. "Oh, please help her!"

He bolted toward them, shocked to find Michaela sprawled on her back on the floor, her eyes closed. Katie and Red Eagle were crouched beside her, helplessly holding onto her arm.

"Michaela!" he uttered, falling to his knees and drawing her head into his lap.

"Mama, Mama," Katie whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

"I was just reading to her and all of a sudden she just fell forward and slumped to the floor," Elizabeth explained, shaking her head.

Sully pressed his hand firmly to his wife's chest, desperately feeling for a heart beat. It was very weak. He laid her head back on the floor and listened for her breath, pressing his ear up to her mouth. "Michaela!"

"Oh, my God. She's had a stroke," Elizabeth said, pressing both hands to her mouth.

Sully looked up at her in sheer terror, then looked at the children. They were all crying, just as petrified as he was.

"Mama!" Byron pleaded, kneeling down and grabbing her hand. "Papa, wake her up! Wake Mama up!"

"I can't," he replied helplessly. "I can't."

"No! Mama!" Katie screamed.