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

Sully snapped his eyes open, gasping for air. He was laying in bed in their dark bedroom, the only sound crickets softly chirping outside and Michaela breathing deeply beside him, her hands resting atop her belly as she slept against a multitude of pillows. He shifted up quietly to look at her, quickly realizing it had all been a bad dream. Michaela was just fine. He raised his arm and touched her belly with the back of his hand, careful not to wake her, and then let out a big sigh of relief. He breathed deeply and willed his heart to stop pumping so hard against his chest, trying to calm himself down. When he tried to forget the nightmare and just go back to sleep, he found he couldn't even close his eyes. Restlessly, he slipped quietly out of bed and opened the door, padding downstairs.

Michaela reached her arm over to cuddle against Sully, immediately opening her eyes when she encountered his cool pillow. She glanced at the door, surprised to find it open. Perplexed, she slowly shifted up in bed and touched her feet to the floor, sliding on her slippers and standing up. She grasped her bathrobe from the end of the bed and opened the door wider, carefully making her way down the steep staircase. She found Sully in front of the sitting room fireplace, squatting down and stirring the logs with a poker.

"Sully?" she called.

He quickly glanced up.

She looked at the clock on the mantle. "It's two in the morning. What's wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep is all."

She joined him and rubbed his shoulder. "Come back to bed? It's chilly without you beside me."

He rose to his feet and leaned the poker against the stone fireplace. "Michaela, I been thinkin'. Maybe we should do what Andrew says. Deliver the baby now. Tomorrow mornin' I'll bring Andrew out and we'll break your water, take some of that castor oil and try to start your labor."

"No. No, it's still so early."

"I know that. But you ain't gettin' any better."

"A baby born this early could have all sorts of problems. Its lungs and other organs might not be fully developed. It might have a hard time breathing. It could have bleeding on the brain that could cause permanent brain damage. And it'll most certainly be underweight and extremely susceptible to things like pneumonia and catarrhs. We'll be lucky if the baby survives without any long-term effects."

"So what do ya plan to do? Ya wanna wait until ya have a stroke before we do anything?"

"You didn't see Kirk and Faye's baby. You didn't see how tiny she was. Sully, she never even breathed."

"It's a risk we're gonna have to take."

"No, I'm not doing it!" she protested.

He shook his head desperately. "Michaela, we don't got a choice here. Don't ya understand? You're gonna die if we don't!"

"Our baby is going to die if we do!" she replied resolutely.

He dropped his hands at his sides with frustration. "I don't know why we bother to bring Andrew out here in the first place. Ya never listen to what he thinks anyway."

"I just don't agree with him this time, that's all."

"If this were a patient of yours, if you were on the other side, what would you do?"

She swallowed hard. "I don't know."

"Yes ya do. You'd tell her you wanna deliver the baby right now before she gets any sicker."

"All right, maybe I would. But that's different."

"How?" he demanded impatiently.

She looked down at her belly and caressed it tearfully. "Because this is our baby we're talking about." She looked up resolutely. "We lost Jack. I'm not going to let us lose another. I can't do it again, Sully. I can't."

"Even if it means riskin' your own life," he muttered.

"Yes."

He grasped her hand. "Michaela, you know how much I love the baby. I wanna do everything I can to see to it it comes through this all healthy. But when it comes down to it, I'd rather deliver the baby early then take a chance you get so sick ya might not get better. As it is Andrew says ya might already be damagin' your kidneys. Michaela, we gotta do this now so somethin' worse don't happen."

"We're not going to have another baby, Sully," she whispered. "This child is our last chance. We have to wait as long as we can so that it has the best odds we can give it of surviving and doing well."

He gazed at her a long moment, slowly inhaling. "Tell me how I'm supposed to raise our baby without its mama. Tell me how all of us are supposed to go on if we lose ya."

She stepped toward him and touched his arm. "Sully-"

He took a step back. "Just, go back to bed. You're not supposed to be on your feet, remember?"

She slowly dropped her arm down, gazing back at him tearfully. Then she turned and headed for the stairs. She paused at the base, turning back around.

"Sully, I'm sorry," she called softly.

He ignored her and grabbed another log, dropping it on the fire forcefully. She gathered her nightgown and lifted it up a few inches and slowly ascended the staircase.

Sully stared into the fire, resting one arm up on the mantle. He slowly let his brow fall against his arm and closed his eyes, overwhelmed by everything they had been through over the past several days. He was terrified he was about to lose the woman he loved, had built such a wonderful life with, the woman who was his children's mother, and couldn't even begin to fathom how he would cope with that. He suddenly turned around as he heard a door open.

Elizabeth wheeled her chair out of her room, her face solemn.

"Elizabeth. We didn't wake ya, did we?" he called.

She wheeled her chair into the sitting room. "I couldn't sleep myself. I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear."

He strolled to one of the wingback chairs and sunk into it.

"We never shoulda had another baby," he murmured.

"Oh, Sully. You don't mean that."

"I do," he said firmly, looking up at her. "I wanted us to do this 'cause I thought it would help what with us losin' Jack. I never let myself think that somethin' like this might happen. All I thought about was myself, about me feelin' better."

"Oh, nonsense. You're the most selfless person I've ever met. You wanted to have a baby for Michaela's sake, not yours. You never do anything without thinking of her first."

"I just never shoulda let it happen. We shoulda been more careful. This was all a big mistake." He gazed at her. "Elizabeth, ya gotta talk to her. Convince her Andrew's right on this."

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "That's only going to make her resolute. No, I'm afraid Michaela's as stubborn as her mother. Once she's made a decision she sticks with it."

He looked up, permitting himself a soft smile. "So you're sayin' this is your fault then. Ya had to have a daughter just like you."

Elizabeth smiled back. "Yes, afraid so." She wheeled her chair close to him and reached out to squeeze his arm. "Sully, I completely agree with you and Andrew. I think that baby needs to be born immediately before something terrible happens. But Michaela's a mother. Her instincts are to protect her child, not herself. I do understand that. Something happens when a woman has a baby growing inside her. It's a powerful feeling. You just want to do everything you can to keep that precious life safe."

"Yeah, I know," he whispered.

"I'm afraid Michaela is the one who has the final say here. She's the one carrying that baby. She's made her choice. Now there's nothing we can do but support her and help her in that decision. And just pray that she made the right one."

He leaned forward and gently hugged her. He had never imagined that he would ever feel like he needed Michaela's mother around. Of course he loved her and was happy to help her as she aged, but he suddenly felt like he really needed her unwavering support and her wise words of reassurance. He wasn't sure how he would manage without Elizabeth helping them out and being there for them in the last few weeks before their baby was born.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," he murmured.

She nodded and held him a little tighter.

"Michaela?" Dorothy called from the stairwell.

Michaela shifted up in bed with surprise. She was clutching her handkerchief after crying on and off most of the afternoon. She was upset about the heated argument she and Sully had the night before, she was dreadfully worried about the baby, and she felt so helpless with nothing to do but wait and see if the toxemia got any worse. The last thing she wanted was to be left by herself, but she didn't have the heart to make Sully and the children miss their baseball game, and so she had insisted they go on without her. At least Brian was staying around the homestead, but he was so busy downstairs trying to catch up on all the chores he hadn't even realized how upset she was.

"Brian let me in," Dorothy said with a cheerful smile as she appeared in the doorway, clutching her basket under her arm.

"He's babysitting me today," Michaela said grimly. She sniffled. "I thought you'd be at the baseball game with everyone else."

"I was. But then I got to talking to Sully and he told me everything. I figured my best friend needed me more."

She dabbed at her cheeks with her handkerchief. "Sully's furious with me at the moment. He wants me to go to the clinic and try to induce my labor immediately."

Dorothy sat on the bed beside her and patted her hand. "He's not angry with you. He's just a worried husband and father. It's natural."

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, Dorothy," she said, shaking her head in exasperation. "If I wait too long I could take a turn for the worse. But if we deliver the baby now I'm so afraid of what kinds of problems it could have. We can't even be sure it would survive this early."

"Well, times like these you just gotta make a decision and stick to it. I think you're doing the best that you can staying on bed rest and staying quiet."

"Bed rest," Michaela said with a sigh. "I never imagined it could be this terrible. I can't take care of my family, let alone go to the clinic. I can't look after the house. Sully's had to shoulder all our responsibilities all by himself. He's exhausted. And meanwhile I'm missing out on everything important."

"Well, that's why I'm here, to make this a little easier," Dorothy said, reaching into her basket. She pulled out a few novels and stacked them. "'The Portrait of a Lady.' I hear that's good. 'Through the Looking Glass.' I thought you might like to read that with Katie and the boys."

Michaela opened the covers of one of the books. "Dorothy, you're a Godsend."

"There's more," Dorothy said wryly. She pulled out three copies of Harper's Weekly. "They're a little old, but I don't think you've read them, have you?" She took out two skeins of light pink yarn. "And maybe you could knit the baby a blanket. That'll pass the time."

"So you're in the camp who thinks the baby's a girl, too?" Michaela asked with amusement, picking up one of the skeins.

"Oh, I'm sure of it, aren't you? You look just like you did when you were carryin' Katie."

"Yes, I think it is. But Sully thinks we should be prepared for a boy, too."

"But why if it's a girl?" Dorothy asked, blinking.

"That's what I keep telling him," she replied.

"Oh, one more thing," Dorothy said, pulling out a newspaper. "This week's edition of the Gazette. With the latest baseball story across the front page."

Michaela looked at the headline. "Eagles beat Wolves nine to five." She sighed. "Sully tries so hard. But he just can't seem to win. I think it's really starting to get to him."

"The way Preston's been practicing with his team it's going to catch up to them eventually. I see him out in that field all the time doing all kinds of drills with those poor boys. They're going to be so tired they won't be able to do their best anymore."

"Loren'll be upset you're missing the game today. The umpire needs fans, too."

She averted her eyes. "Oh, he'll be fine. After all, he's got Mrs. Quinn there to cheer him on."

Michaela studied her curiously. "Dorothy? Does it bother you Loren and my mother have become such good friends?"

"Why would it bother me?" she blurted.

"I don't know. You two are so close. Neither Sully or I think that their relationship is anything but platonic, if that's what you're wondering." She thought back with a soft smile. "I remember when Loren proposed to you, the look on your face when you told me."

Dorothy chuckled. "Oh, did that man catch me off guard!"

"Do you remember coming here to the homestead and spending the night here? You said you couldn't be under the same roof with him."

"Well, I turned him down. Twice. I s'pose I got no right to be feelin' this way." Dorothy sighed and rested the yarn in her lap. "Oh, Michaela. I don't know why it's gettin' to me. I like your mother. It's got nothing to do with her."

"Feeling a little left out?"

"I just…I don't want things to ever change. Me and Loren, we're like family. We have supper together and talk about what we read in the Denver Post and work together in the store. We're just like all those sweet old couples I always see. At least we used to be."

"You know in Latin, the words for friend and lover are very similar."

Dorothy's cheeks flushed and she drew in her breath.

"Dorothy, have you ever thought perhaps you want it both ways? You don't want to marry him, but you still want all the support and companionship of that kind of relationship."

"I s'pose I'm not bein' very fair, am I?" she murmured.

"You and Loren can still make other friends, nurture other relationships, and still care about each other."

"I s'pose you're right," she said with a soft smile. She held up the skein. "Well, should we start on this blanket? Where's your knittin' bag?"

Michaela smiled with a sigh. "Yes, let's."

"Strike two!" Loren shouted.

Red Eagle backed out of the batting box and took a few practice swings. Elizabeth, Faye and Kirk, and Sarah were among the several spectators at the game, doing their best to cheer the children on as enthusiastically as possible given that Michaela, the team's biggest supporter, couldn't be there.

"Keep it up, Red Eagle!" Sarah called as she waved her pennant flag.

Preston clapped his hands. "One more, Davey. One more."

Sully glanced up from the batting order. He had been rather subdued throughout the game and unable to give his team his full attention, too worried about Michaela and anxious to get back to her. He trusted that she would be just fine under Brian's watchful eye, and he liked the fact that Dorothy said she was going to go out and pay her a visit, but he still didn't like leaving her for more than a few hours at a time.

"Strike three!" Loren shouted. "You're out!"

Sully stood as Red Eagle jogged over to him with his bat.

"I struck out, Papa. I thought that one was gonna be a ball," he said sadly.

"That's all right. Ya did your best," Sully said, patting him on the back firmly. He took his bat and handed it to Katie.

"You're up, Kates. Remember, just keep your eye on the ball."

Katie nodded and jogged over to the plate. Davey wound up and pitched a fastball. Katie swung hard and missed.

"Strike one!" Loren said.

"That's all right, Kates," Sully called.

"That's all right, Katie!" Elizabeth called.

Davey pitched another fastball down the line and Katie missed again.

"One more and we win Davey," Preston shouted.

Sully rose to his feet and put his clipboard aside. His entire team was hanging their heads, disappointed they were about to lose yet another game. Katie glanced back at Sully dejectedly.

"It's all right. Watch the ball. Finish strong," Sully called.

Davey rubbed his sweaty hand on his pant leg and then wound up. Suddenly the ball slipped from his hand before he had a chance to swing and dropped straight down to the pitcher's mound.

"Whoops," he said with embarrassment, bending down to pick up the ball.

"That's all right. Go on, pitch another one," Preston said.

Sully took a step forward, stunned. "Wait. Wait, stop. It's a balk. It's a balk!"

Loren straightened. "A what?"

"Time out!" Sully shouted, jogging over to Loren. "It's a balk. It's when the pitcher drops the ball when somebody's on base."

Preston ran over. "What's the hold up?" he demanded. "Stop stalling, Sully. Let Davey pitch one more strike so my team can get to celebrating yet another win."

Sully crossed his arms. "It's a balk. Look it up in any rule book. Your pitcher dropped the ball. The batter takes her base. Since the bases are loaded, we score a run."

Loren grabbed his rule book from his back pocket and flipped through it.

"I know what a balk is and that wasn't a balk. The ball wasn't in play," Preston protested.

"Yes it was. He was windin' up. You're the one always sayin' we gotta play by the rules."

"All right, quit your arguing," Loren said. "Here it is right here. You're right, Sully." He shoved the rule book back into his pocket. "Batter take your base!"

"Go to first base, Katie. Good job," Sully said, taking her bat from her. He glanced at the child on third. "Aaron, come on home."

The little boy beamed and ran to home plate. Sully clapped his hands and rejoined his team. The crowd cheered and Sarah leaped to her feet.

"We love the umpire!" she shouted, waving her flag.

Loren grumbled and shooed his hand at her, then returned his attention to the game as Faye got up and changed the score on the chalkboard.

"All tied up!" Kirk shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Let's go Wolves!"

"What happened, Papa?" Byron asked, standing up on the bench. The rest of the boys were on their feet, suddenly filled with hope.

"The pitcher made an error," he explained. "He dropped the ball. That means Katie took a base and we scored the tying run. We just need one more run and we win."

"Think we might win this time, coach?" a little boy asked.

"We'll just do our best," Sully said, patting his back. "That's what counts."

"Uh-oh. I'm up next," Byron said, putting on his baseball cap and picking up a bat.

Sully bent down. "You'll be fine. Take your time. I want ya to bunt it so Charlie can make it home. Ya understand, son?"

"Yeah," he said worriedly, marching up to home plate.

Sully clapped his hands. "Let's go Wolves."

"Swing it hard, Byron!" Elizabeth called. "Hit a home run!"

"I can't, Gran'ma," Byron shouted back. "Papa told me to bunt it!"

"Oh. Never mind!" she called back as the crowd laughed.

Byron choked up high on the bat and waited for the pitch. Davey wound up and sent a fast ball down the line. It connected with Byron's bat and went off to the left, surprising the third baseman.

"Run, Charlie!" Sully shouted. "Run home!"

The little boy ran with all his might toward home, sliding there just as the third baseman was picking up the ball.

"That's it!" Loren shouted, permitting himself a small smile. He usually had no trouble being impartial, but it was nice to see Sully's team finally get a chance to celebrate. "Wolves win it!"

The crowd broke into thunderous cheers and the players shouted and clapped and jumped up onto their bench. Katie and Byron ran off the field toward Sully, tackling him and throwing their hats aside. Sully picked up Katie and threw her into the air a few inches, laughing.

Preston tapped Sully on the shoulder. Sully spun around, surprised to see him.

"Congratulations," Preston said amicably, shaking his hand. "Of course, if you're content winning because of a technicality."

"I'm content to win by the rules," Sully said, slapping him on the arm.

"See you next Saturday. Assuming it's not raining."

"Wouldn't count on that," Sully replied.

Katie tugged on Sully's shirt. "Mama missed it, Papa. She missed us winning."

"Oh, she'll be disappointed, huh?" he murmured, caressing her head. "Let's get your Gran'ma, go home and tell her all about it."

"And then Papa said look in the rule book, Mr. Bray," Katie went on breathlessly as she leaned on the bed. "And he said it's in there."

Michaela nodded as she listened to the children recount all the excitement of earlier that afternoon.

"And then Mr. Bray looked," Byron cut in. "And there it was. And then he said Katie could go to her base. Then that means we scored a run. And Coach Lodge was mad!"

"Uh-huh," Michaela said with a soft smile.

"Then Byron went up to bat," Red Eagle said.

"And I did a bunt!" Byron said, climbing up onto the bed and holding out an imaginary bat in demonstration. "Just like this. Crack! It hit my bat and went over past Jim. He was playin' third base for the Eagles. And he couldn't get it and then Charlie ran to home and we scored! We won!"

"We won, Mama!" Katie echoed.

Michaela forced a smile. She was thrilled the children had won, but crushed that she had missed it. She had been at every single game and sat in the front row, that is until today. Now the one time she couldn't be there and they had won.

"That's wonderful," she said unsteadily. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"That's all right, Mama," Red Eagle said reassuringly. "You can't help it."

"All right, you're awful muddy," Sully remarked, glancing at the children's mud-caked shoes and dirty uniforms. "Why don't ya go get out of your uniforms before supper."

"They probably need baths, too, Sully. They're filthy," Michaela remarked, taking note of the streak of dust across Katie's cheek and Byron's chalky hands.

"Yeah, your ma's right. Gran'ma and me'll give ya all a bath after we eat."

"Aww," Byron said with a little pout.

"Who's gonna do the laundry?" Red Eagle asked curiously. "Mama can't. She's in bed."

"Mama can't do much of anything right now," Michaela said dismally.

"All of us will help do the laundry," Sully said. "But tomorrow. All right, go on with ya."

The children headed out of the bedroom and Byron paused in the doorway, clutching the frame.

"Don't worry, Mama. You just missed one game," he murmured.

She nodded bravely, giving him a little wave as he headed to his bedroom. Sully approached the bed.

"How ya feelin'? Dizzy at all?" He grasped one of her hands and scrutinized it for any signs of swelling.

She glanced at him dryly. "So you win when I'm not there? Maybe I'm bad luck."

He returned her hand to her lap with an amused grin. Her eyes suddenly welled with tears and her lip trembled.

He looked at her in utter confusion for a moment, then shifted a little closer and clutched her arm. "Michaela, what is it? It's all right. You ain't bad luck. That's silly."

She burst into soft sobs, shaking her head. "I missed it."

"I know. I'm sorry," he murmured, gathering her into his arms. "Wasn't much fun stayin' behind, was it?"

She cried harder and held onto him helplessly.

"Hey, shh." He smoothed her hair. "Like Byron said, it's one game. You'll be at plenty others. Shh."

"I hope so. Right now this feels like it's going to last forever. I can't do this, Sully. It's so difficult."

"Yes ya can. We'll help ya. Yes ya can."

She held him all the tighter, desperately trying to get control of her emotions as he kissed her head and rubbed her back reassuringly.

Sully took his chisel and carefully carved a hole on the inside of the outline of the wheel that would receive a spoke. Byron watched him intently, careful not to disturb his concentration but getting as close as he could nonetheless.

"Trick is to get the iron tire real hot," Sully explained.

"How come ya gotta heat it up?"

"When ya heat metal like that, it expands a little. It gets bigger. Just big enough to nudge it on the wheel with my hammer."

Byron looked up at him, in awe of his vast knowledge. "Metal can grow?"

"Somethin' like that," he said with a grin. "Then you cool it off with some water and it shrinks down tight around the wheel."

"Whoa," Byron murmured. "Amazin'."

Sully smiled softly at his curiosity. Working out in the barn on a project he was never really that enthused about was certainly a lot more tolerable when he had his son for company.

"Hey, Pa. I just got in from town," Brian said, appearing in the barn doorway.

"Ya have a good day at the Gazette?" Sully asked as he continued to work.

"Yep. I picked up a big crate that come in from the afternoon train for Gran'ma. Can ya give me a hand bringin' it inside?"

"Sure, let me finish this up," Sully said as he put the finishing touches on the hole.

Byron picked up one of the spikes Sully had carved for the Sexton's wheels and began waving it around as if he were fencing an imaginary opponent. "What came, Brian? A present?"

"I don't know. We'll open it and find out."

Byron thrust his spike in the direction of the barn post. "On guard!"

Sully wiped his hands off with a rag and stood up, swiping Byron off his feet. "What're ya tryin' to do, start a war?"

Byron giggled. "I like the spikes. I want spikes on my wagon when I'm older."

"Ya do, do ya?" Sully took the spike from him and put it aside on his workbench. "Let's go help Brian."

"Well, the mail couldn't have taken any longer. You would think I had the thing sent by pony express," Elizabeth announced from her wheelchair as Brian and Sully carried the crate inside.

"What is it? What is it?" Byron demanded, climbing up onto the table to see better. Katie and Red Eagle gathered around the crate impatiently as Elizabeth beamed.

"You'll find out. Open it," Elizabeth instructed.

Sully took out his knife and pried open the top, then pulled out an incredible amount of shredded brown paper until he finally came across what was inside. He reached in and pulled out Elizabeth's expensive, heavy phonograph that she kept in the parlor in Boston.

"Gran'ma! It's your phonograph!" Byron exclaimed ecstatically.

Sully put it on the table with a big sigh.

"The phonograph!" Katie cried. "Me first! Me first!"

"I get to wind it first!" Red Eagle protested.

"No me!" Byron said.

"You sent for this old thing?" Sully asked.

Elizabeth looked up at him innocently. "I was missing it so I asked Rebecca to have Martha pack it up and mail it. And I thought it would be nice to give the children some culture out here. A little classical music in the wilds of Colorado territory."

"We're a state now, Gran'ma," Byron said. "Can I wind it first? I'm the youngest."

"I'll wind it first," Elizabeth said. "Then you can all have a turn, I promise."

She beamed and turned the crank several times until she felt some resistance. Then they all sat back and waited for the music to begin.

"It's not starting," Byron whispered impatiently.

"Shh," Katie scolded.

Suddenly strong cellos began playing an ominous introduction. Soon after the oboes and clarinets began the melody with the violins offering a haunting accompaniment. Elizabeth and the children were immediately enthralled.

"What piece is that, Gran'ma?" Brian asked curiously.

"That, dears, is the Unfinished Symphony. Oh, isn't it gorgeous?"

"Schubert," Brian said, removing his hat and listening with a smile.

"Sounds kinda depressin' to me," Sully remarked.

"Oh, stop it, Sully," Elizabeth scolded. "It's absolutely brilliant."

"Oh, no, is it gonna stop in the middle, Gran'ma?" Byron asked, staring at the phonograph. "I like this song."

"No, why would it do that?" Elizabeth replied.

"You said it's unfinished."

She chuckled. "It's called the Unfinished Symphony because the composer only wrote two movements. Symphonies have four songs, Byron. But for some reason this only has two songs."

"Wish Mama could come down and listen," Katie remarked sadly.

Elizabeth looked at Sully eagerly. "You know what you could do, Sully? You could bring her up supper and then listen to the phonograph together."

"I'm not gonna drag this heavy thing all the way up the stairs," he protested.

"Brian will help you," she said simply.

"Sure, Pa. Any time ya want an evenin' to yourselves we'll watch the kids, too."

"She needs to be courted, Sully," Elizabeth said astutely. "She needs a massive amount of cheering up if she's going to make it through all this bed rest."

"Ya think she'd like that?" he asked, warming up to the idea.

"Oh, it'll be just like you're sitting in box seats at the Boston Symphony. She'll be thrilled!"

"What's for lunch today?" Herman demanded, crossing his arms and gazing down at Byron and Red Eagle.

Byron looked back up at him defiantly, clutching his lunch pail tightly. "You're not getting it. It's not yours."

"What'd you say?" he blurted.

Byron shared a fearful glance with his brother.

"Just give it to him, Byron. Please," Red Eagle murmured.

"No. I won't," he said unsteadily.

"Gimme it," Herman said, suddenly grabbing Byron's arm and twisting it hard.

Byron screeched and gritted his teeth.

"No!" Red Eagle cried frantically. "Stop, let him go! You're hurtin' him!"

Herman laughed hysterically and twisted Byron's arm harder. Byron burst into tears and threw his lunch pail at the older boy.

"Take it! Take it!" he sobbed.

Herman pushed him away and grabbed the lunch pail. "Thank you."

"Oh, Byron," Red Eagle whimpered, putting his arm around him. "Why did you do that? We're supposed to ignore him. Mama said."

Byron rubbed his arm tearfully. "My arm."

"Is it broken?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. It hurts."

"What do we do? Do we tell Miss Teresa?"

"I don't know," he said despairingly, shaking his head.

Red Eagle hugged him reassuringly. "Don't worry. Don't worry."

"Feeling all right, Michaela?" Elizabeth asked as she wheeled her chair toward the sitting room.

Michaela lowered her book in the wingback chair, a bit aggravated. "Mother, I'm fine. Everyone's watching me like hawks."

"Of course we are." Elizabeth rearranged the quilt across Michaela's legs. "Would you like me to build up the fire?"

"No. I'm comfortable if you are."

Sully opened the front door, guiding the children inside.

Michaela brightened. Now that she was home all day on bed rest, she found herself really pining for the children. She always looked forward with great anticipation to when they came home from school and she could talk with them, help them with homework and play with them.

"How was school?" she asked. She stopped short. All three of the children were looking tired and dejected. They placed their books on the table and Red Eagle and Katie put their lunch pails beside the books. Michaela immediately noticed Byron was without his lunch pail.

"What happened to your lunch? Did you forget it?" she asked.

He swallowed hard. "I lost it."

"Lost it? How?"

"I don't know, Mama, all right?" he replied impatiently. "It's just lost!"

"Hey, hey," Sully said, clutching his shoulder. "Calm down, son. We ain't mad. We just wanna find out what happened."

Elizabeth gasped. "Was it that Sexton boy? Did he steal your lunch pail? Michaela, that young man is positively cruel to them. We've got to do something."

The children all stared at their feet.

Michaela exchanged a worried glance with Sully. He looked about as helpless and uncertain as to how to handle the situation as she did. She wasn't sure whether to confront the boy's father about this or talk to their teacher, which might make it worse for the children, or to somehow help the children learn to handle such things on their own.

"Byron, come here," Michaela called, holding out her arm. "All of you come here."

The children trudged over to her chair.

"He's still teasing you, isn't he?"

Byron eyes welled with tears and he managed a nod.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry," she murmured, caressing his cheek.

"He calls me a runt," Byron muttered. "And he calls Red Eagle chief."

"I don't mind, Mama. I ignore it," Red Eagle spoke up.

"Still, it must be hard to hear comments like that. That must hurt," Michaela said.

All three of them nodded.

"What do we do, Mama?" Katie asked. "He won't stop."

She swallowed hard. "You know, oftentimes children who make fun of others are actually feeling very insecure about themselves."

"Insecure? What's that?" Red Eagle asked.

"Well, I think Herman might be feeling a little frightened about coming all the way out here, leaving everything he knows in Tennessee and having to go to a new school and not knowing a soul. Making fun of others is how he feels important and powerful."

"Guess he doesn't have much friends at school," Katie admitted.

"Well, there's a surprise," Elizabeth remarked.

"I think Herman is very unhappy right now," Michaela explained. "Perhaps that's why he keeps teasing you." She drew Byron into a hug. "I'm proud of you for trying to ignore it. I know how difficult that is."

"We're tryin'," Byron murmured.

"Good." She rubbed his arm lovingly. He suddenly cringed and backed away, clutching it.

"Byron, what's wrong?" Michaela asked.

Sully stepped toward him, brow wrinkled. "What is it, son? Ya hurt your arm?"

"Byron, let me see," Michaela said, drawing him back toward her.

"Mama, no," he protested.

She quickly rolled up his sleeve and gasped. Dark bruising marked his forearm. "Byron, what happened!?" she exclaimed.

"Herman did it!" Elizabeth cried. "Herman did that to you, didn't he?"

Tears suddenly fell down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mama. I'm sorry. I wouldn't give him my lunch. I shoulda just given it to him."

"Oh, oh," she murmured helplessly, drawing him into her arms. "Shh, don't be sorry." She kissed his hair and rubbed his back. "Shh. Mama and Papa'll take care of this, all right? Shh."

Sully handed Michaela a mug of coffee and squatted down near her footrest with his own mug. He rubbed her stocking foot with his free hand and gazed up at her.

"Sully, what do we do?" she murmured at last.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I ain't sure what to do."

"I remember how awful it felt to be teased when I was their age. I would run home crying to my father." She swallowed hard at the painful memory.

"What'd he do about it?"

She took another sip of coffee. "The same as what we did. Told me to walk away, ignore it. Don't give them the satisfaction of knowing I was upset."

"Seems like ignorin' it ain't helpin' much this time."

She lowered her mug. "It's one thing for that child to be teasing and poking fun at them. But now he's physically hurting them?"

He ran his hand up her calf and squeezed it. He knew if they were going to do anything about this, it would be up to him. Michaela was on bed rest and couldn't leave the house. He sensed she was really hoping he would volunteer to take matters into his own hands.

"I'll ride out to the Château tomorrow," he spoke up resolutely. "Find Mr. Sexton."

She brightened. "Oh, you will?"

"His boy hurt Byron. You're right, we can't sit back."

She hesitated. "What about your job making his wheels? If we confront him about this, what if he doesn't want you to work for him anymore?"

"Fact is, seeing to it Byron and the kids are happy at school is more important than makin' some rich businessman a set of wheels."

"Oh, thank you, Sully. I feel better already."

He patted her leg. "Let's get ya up to bed. Get some sleep."

Sully dismounted his horse and tethered him to a hitching post outside the Château.

"May I help you, sir?" a bellhop in uniform asked.

"I'm lookin' for Stephen Sexton. He's a guest in your hotel and I'm workin' for him."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Sexton. I believe he's soaking in the hot springs."

Sully walked out back to the hot springs. Stephen and Frank were wearing long johns and relaxing in the steaming water.

Stephen puffed on a cigar and closed his eyes.

"Mr. Sexton, can I talk to you?" Sully asked, walking up to him and removing his gloves.

Stephen opened his eyes and looked a little irritated. "Not now, Mr. Sully. Tell you what, I'll stop by this evening for another look at the wheels."

"This ain't about the wheels. It's about your boy. Your youngest."

"Herm? What could you possibly want with him?"

"My kids, my little girl and my boys, they're tellin' us he's been givin' 'em some trouble past couple weeks."

"Trouble? Herman's the most disciplined child I know. He receives good marks and can play Mozart on the piano forte at home. You must be thinking of someone else."

"Afraid not. My son came home with some bruisin' on his arm and my wife and me are concerned."

He sat up straighter. "You're not suggesting my son did that to him. That's absurd." He inhaled on his cigar. "You've got the wrong child, Mr. Sully. Now please, I'm trying to relax awhile before an important meeting I have later today."

Preston walked toward them briskly, carrying a stack of fresh towels.

"Sully, is something wrong?" he called.

Sully slowly rose to his feet.

"Sully seems to think my son is causing some problems at school. Having a few run ins with his children," Stephen said, shaking his head.

Preston smiled. "Well, Sully, you can't expect a child like Red Eagle not to be taunted just a bit. Just look at him. Let's be realistic."

"Yes, I heard you enrolled that Indian in the school. Never heard of such ridiculousness," Stephen said. "Might as well try to educate a pile of bricks."

Sully inhaled sharply. "Whether ya wanna believe it or not, your son is bullyin' all three of my children. And I'm askin' ya to put a stop to it."

"Sully, I'm going to have to require you to leave," Preston said. "I'm afraid you're disturbing my guests. One can't relax in the hot springs when there's a man wearing a tomahawk accosting them."

Frank threw a few imaginary punches. "Maybe you should toughen 'em up a bit. Teach 'em to stand up for themselves, not be such sissies about it."

"I ain't gonna teach my children to answer violence with violence," Sully said, taking a step toward him.

Preston grabbed his arm. "Sully. Unless you'd like a room for the night you need to leave right now."

"I'm goin'," Sully muttered, brushing him off and walking away.

"'The time has come, the Walrus said, 'To talk of many things," Michaela bellowed.

The children giggled and cuddled up against her in bed, gazing at the book in her lap. They had piled their shoes on the floor beside the bed so as not to get the sheets muddy, and even though it was only the middle of the afternoon they curled up under the covers with Michaela anyway.

She smiled and deepened her voice all the more. "Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax. Of cabbages and kings. And why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings."

Red Eagle laughed. "Pigs don't have wings!"

Sully stood in the doorway and watched unnoticed for a moment, folding his arms.

"What's sealing wax?" Byron asked.

"It's for the ceiling, right Mama?" Katie said.

Michaela chuckled. "Not exactly. Sealing wax is what we use to close up letters to mail."

"Mail to Boston," Byron remarked, clutching his feet. "Keep reading, Mama."

Michaela changed the timbre of her voice to a much higher pitch. "'But wait a bit,' the oysters cried, 'Before we have our chat; For some of us are out of breath, and all of us are fat!'"

Sully couldn't help chuckling softly. Michaela was always so animated and unchained when she read to the children, and they adored it. It wasn't often she let her guard down, but when she was alone with the children her less serious, more carefree side would sometimes make itself known.

Byron spun his head around to look at him. "Hey, Papa! Wanna listen to the story?"

He stepped into the room, tousling his hair. "What ya reading?"

Byron turned the page for his mother. "This book from Miss Dorothy. There's this funny man in it called Tweedledum. Like Herman."

Red Eagle and Katie burst into giggles and Sully tried to keep a grin in check.

"Byron, that's not nice," Michaela scolded.

"But he is. He's a Tweedledum!"

"Just 'cause he teases you don't mean you get to tease him back," Sully said. "Remember what we talked about? About ignorin' him?"

"Yes, sir," he muttered.

Sully kissed his head. "Hey, can ya get your shoes and go help me unhitch the wagon for a minute? Then we'll all finish the story, how's that sound?"

The children obediently crawled out of bed and gathered their shoes, heading out.

Michaela closed the book and looked up at him expectantly. "How did it go?"

He sat on the bed. "Not too good."

"Oh, no."

He sighed. "He got defensive, didn't even wanna believe it was his son responsible."

"Well, I suppose that's a normal reaction. I'd be defensive too if someone told me one of our children was being a bully."

He patted her leg. "I s'pose."

"Now what?"

"Not sure what else we can do. At least they'll be movin' on end of the week."

She nodded reluctantly and held his hand.

Sully carried a tray down the stairs with a plate and an empty glass of milk. Elizabeth was working on her needlepoint at the table.

"She ate a good lunch," he said.

"Oh, good," Elizabeth replied with a smile.

Sully brought the tray into the kitchen just as someone knocked on the door. He walked back into the main room and opened it. A woman about Michaela's age with curly strawberry blond hair and rosy cheeks smiled at him and held out her hand. She was carrying a small medical bag and her purse, and her buggy was outside.

Sully shook her hand. "You must be the midwife. Mrs. McDonnell? I'm Sully."

"The proud father?" she said with a smile.

He smiled back. "Yes, ma'am."

"I'm a little early for our appointment. I'm sorry. And please, call me Shannon."

Sully guided her inside. "Thanks for comin' all the way out here. Thank you."

She smiled again pleasantly.

"This is my mother-in-law," Sully said.

"Good morning," Elizabeth said politely.

She glanced around the empty room. "And where would your wife be?"

Sully folded his arms. "Upstairs. Her doctor put her on bed rest couple weeks back."

Her smile faded slightly as she followed him to the stairs. "Bed rest?"

"Yeah. Says she probably needs to stay in bed until her time comes."

Sully headed up the stairs and opened the bedroom door, finding Michaela reading a book. "The midwife's here."

Shannon suddenly seemed a little apprehensive as she stepped into the room and shook Michaela's hand.

"I'm Shannon," she said more quietly.

She put her book aside. "Michaela. Thank you so much for coming all the way out here."

"Let's take a look, shall we?" she said, placing her bag on the bed and opening it. "Can you lay down?"

Sully helped Michaela shift down to her back and then turned down the covers. He sat beside her and held her hand as Shannon pulled up her nightgown and expertly felt her belly. "Thirty-three weeks?"

Michaela glanced up at Sully, impressed. "Thirty-four," she said.

Shannon pulled out her stethoscope and listened to her belly, then listened to Michaela's chest. "Good heart rate, the both of you. Why did your doctor put you on bed rest?"

"Oh. Well, he thinks I'm developing toxemia."

She put her stethoscope back in her bag. "What are your symptoms?"

She clutched her belly tenderly. "I'm spilling a little protein. And I've had some blurred vision. A few headaches."

"It's been better since she's been in bed," Sully explained, gently stroking her brow. "Bed rest's been real good for her."

Shannon slowly straightened. "How old are you?" she asked directly.

Michaela was a little taken aback. "I….I just turned forty-six," she said timidly.

Shannon closed her bag, averting her eyes.

"There somethin' wrong?" Sully asked. "She's all right, right?"

"Oh, yes. It's not that." She looked up, letting out her breath. "It's just…I'm sorry, I can't deliver your baby."

Michaela looked at her in confusion. "Why?"

Shannon sat beside her and patted her hand. Her gentle demeanor and kind smile was indicative of a lot of experience comforting anxious mothers. "I'm afraid I don't take on patients who have complications like these. I'm not saying you can't have a perfectly normal delivery, but if you do end up needing a cesarean section or something else goes wrong, it's better you have a doctor."

Michaela was flabbergasted. "But that's why I want you. So nothing like that will happen."

"I usually turn down mothers who are older than forty. It's just my rule," she said gently. "And I've never taken a patient with toxemia, at least not knowingly. I assisted a delivery once when I was an apprentice, and the mother had this. No one realized she was ill until it was too late to get her to the hospital. Unfortunately we lost them both. I know my own limitations and I think it would be better for you and your baby to have a doctor see to your delivery."

Michaela swallowed hard to keep from crying. "I understand," she said hoarsely.

"I've heard very good things about Dr. Cook," she said reassuringly. "I'm sure you won't have any complications. But if you do he's the one you want there."

Michaela managed a nod.

Sully gently touched the midwife's arm. "Let me get ya somethin' for your trouble."

"No, please. It was no trouble. I enjoyed the drive out here. Besides, this was just a consultation. They're free if I don't take you."

He nodded gratefully. "Thanks."

"I'll see myself out," she said. "And good luck." She gathered her medical bag and purse and exited the room, shutting the door.

It took every ounce of composure Michaela had not to break down into tears. She had been so sensitive lately, and Sully had been so patient with her. She hated to make him go through yet another of her emotional outbursts.

"You all right?" he finally asked.

"Just disappointed," she said unsteadily.

He helped her sit up and fluffed her pillows, resting her against them. "She just don't wanna be responsible for somethin' she thinks might be a little risky. Guess we can't blame her."

"I know."

He squeezed her hand. "Ya can get upset about it ya know. It's all right."

She couldn't hold back tears any longer. A few slipped down her cheeks and he quickly moved to swipe them away.

"I know how important that was to ya. I'm sorry," he murmured.

"You're probably relieved it's just going to be Andrew now," she remarked.

"No, I liked her. She seemed good. But if she ain't comfortable takin' us on, then that's not the right person for us."

She nodded and drew him into a gentle hug. "I'm all right. So we aren't going to have a midwife. Andrew's very good, too. He'll help us have a healthy baby."

"That's right," he affirmed, kissing her cheek.

Sully selected a few books off Loren's shelf he thought Michaela might like. He strolled to the counter and added them to his crate. Loren put in a sack of sugar and a sack of beans.

"Anything here for Elizabeth?" Loren asked as he counted up the items in his head.

"Why?"

"Why do you always gotta question me?"

"I ain't questionin'. I reckon we're all gonna share the groceries if that's what ya wanna know."

"Well, I'll give you the old timer's discount then. It comes to six dollars ten cents."

He picked up the crate. "Put it on our account."

He slowly looked up. "Sully, I'm sorry but….I can't do that."

"What do ya mean?"

"Last time you and Dr. Mike paid me was four months ago. I can't give you any more credit until you pay it off."

He put the crate down. "Loren, look, I'm gonna get you your money. I got this man I'm workin' for, I got some good money comin' in." He gestured behind him with his thumb.

"Sully, I gotta make a livin', too. Do you know how many customers come into my store every day with the same story? I'm in debt myself, I got my own people who want their money."

"Loren, we're friends. Ya know my word's good."

"Course it is. But how can I trust this man you're workin' for?"

"What if I made a payment today? Would you keep our account goin'?"

He put his pencil down skeptically. "How much?"

Sully dug into his pocket and pulled out some wadded up bills and some coins. "I got four dollars, sixty-three cents."

Loren eyed the money, then let out a deep sigh. "All right. I guess I'll take it. Better than nothing." He grabbed the money and smoothed out the rumpled bills. "You know that dress Dr. Mike ordered awhile back, that was eight dollars sixty-one cents."

"I know how much it was," Sully retorted impatiently.

"Just checkin'."

"Didn't think it was a storekeeper's business what a man chooses to spend his money on."

"Look, Sully, I don't like closin' accounts. But I've got my supplier in Denver after me for two-hundred dollars right now. I don't pay him off soon and I may have to close the store. Then everybody's gonna be out of luck."

"I understand," he murmured. "I'll do what I can to get ya your money just as soon as I can." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Loren."

He nodded, tucking the money in his cash box. "Well, can you take some flowers to Elizabeth? Compliments of the Mercantile." He reached into a nearby vase and pulled out a large handful of daisies.

Sully glanced at the flowers. "How's Dorothy doin' these days?"

He tore off a sheet of paper and wrapped the stems in it. "Dorothy? Fine, why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "She was your right hand for awhile there."

"Still is. Why wouldn't she be?"

Sully picked up the crate again. "Ya know, Loren, sometimes a woman just likes to hear she's still needed."

Loren eyed him skeptically for a moment, then handed him the flowers. "Give some of those to Dr. Mike, too, will ya? Tell her we sure miss her around town."

He smiled softly. "I will."

Red Eagle studied the checker board, crouched in a chair across from Michaela in the sitting room. A hard rain fell on the roof as Michaela watched him with amusement from the wingback chair, her legs resting on the matching footrest and a shawl draped over her shoulders.

She had never been very comfortable being waited on, but the children were all being so sweet and helpful, making sure she had everything she could possibly want or need and doing their best to keep her amused by playing games with her or reading to her or just sitting with her. It wasn't so bad to sit back and relax when it was her children who were looking after her.

Michaela took a sip of her tea as Red Eagle slid a checker forward at last.

"Oh. Good move," she remarked, placing the teacup back on the saucer and resting it on the table beside the board.

"Thanks. Your turn," he replied, leaning on the arm of the chair with a smile. "Want some more tea, Mama?"

"Oh, no thank you."

Sully opened the door, carrying the crate of groceries, his hair and jacket dripping with water.

Michaela immediately shifted around to look at him. "Sully, you're soaked!" she exclaimed.

"It's really comin' down," he remarked, putting the crate on the table and pealing off his jacket.

"Let me get you a towel, make you some coffee," she said, grabbing the sides of the chair. She suddenly stopped herself, sinking back into the chair. "I forgot. I'm not supposed to get up."

"Mama's behavin' I hope. Stayin' put, right?" Sully asked.

"Yep, she's being good," Red Eagle replied.

He hung up his jacket. "Your garden's havin' a tough time of it. Tomato plants are wiltin'."

"Oh, no," she said.

"Creek's risin', too. About a foot in the past day or so."

"Do you think it might flood?" she asked worriedly.

He glanced at Red Eagle, who was studying the checkerboard. "Nah, it'll be fine soon as it stops rainin'. Where's Katie and Byron? Your ma?" he asked, walking to her chair and crouching down beside her.

She jumped one of Red Eagle's checkers with hers. "In her room, reading a book. They've been trading off sitting with us."

Sully tousled Red Eagle's hair. "Good. You've been a big help."

Red Eagle's eyes widened. "Mama, your tummy just moved! I saw it!"

She glanced at her belly, bringing one hand up to caress it with a smile. "Did you? I think the baby must be rolling around in there." She motioned with her fingers. "Come here. Come feel."

He jumped down from his chair and approached her, stretching his hand across her stomach.

"Whoa, you're so warm," he remarked in fascination.

"I know she is. She wakes me up at night with that hot belly of hers," Sully remarked with a soft smile.

"There. I feel it! Papa, feel this! Is that really the baby doing that?" Red Eagle said, bursting into a big smile.

She chuckled. "Yes, that's really the baby."

He smiled wider as Sully shifted forward and pressed his hand up beside Red Eagle's.

"Are you excited to be a big brother?" Michaela asked, tenderly smoothing back the little boy's hair.

He glanced up. "Yes, ma'am. Are you excited to be a ma again?"

She grinned. "Oh, yes. Very."

"What about you, Pa?" Red Eagle asked, glancing at Sully. "Are you excited?"

Michaela watched him hesitantly. She knew how worried he was for her health, and how much that had interfered with his ability to relax and look forward to their new baby. But he seemed to let go of some of his anxiety at that moment as he gently clasped her hand.

"Oh, yeah, son. I can't wait," he said with a soft smile, giving Michaela's cheek a kiss.

"I can't believe how long each day seems when all I have to do is sit in bed," Michaela remarked impatiently as she watched Sully crouch on the floor and dig through his toolbox. "I keep thinking about everything that needs to be done." She paused. "Sully, I've been feeling better lately. Perhaps I could get up. Just for a few hours. Just to get some chores out of the way. I'll go right back to bed afterward."

Sully braced a nail along the edge of the crib and pounded it in with a hammer. "You stay where ya are. The kids and I can take care of everything. I don't wanna have to worry about ya blackin' out and hurtin' yourself."

"Pregnancy puts a lot of demands on the heart. It has to pump a lot more blood. It's not uncommon to feel a little winded or dizzy at times."

"Blackin' out and blurred vision ain't exactly the same as just gettin' dizzy. What if it happened on the stairs? Ya could fall. Or ya could hit your head on a table, a chair."

Chastened, she rested back against the pillows. "You're right. I should be in bed." She watched him work a long moment. His brow was fixed and something was clearly weighing heavily on his mind. "Sully, are you angry at me?"

He glanced up, grabbing another nail from the box. "Course not."

She watched him worriedly, not convinced.

He slowly got up. "I ain't angry at ya. Truth is I'm real worried about that creek."

"The creek? You said it'll be fine as soon as it stops raining."

"Michaela, I didn't wanna scare Red Eagle with him right there. But that water was risin' awful quick."

"What do you mean? Will it overflow?"

"Last time it was rising this fast was winter of sixty-seven, before you came out here. Me and Charlotte Cooper and the Reverend tried to warn everybody. We got some folks to put some sandbags around their homes, their businesses. Most folks wouldn't believe us though. Until the bridge washed out. The Reverend had to cancel church for three weeks and folks on the other side had no way to get into town, get food and supplies."

"Oh, no."

"The banks eventually collapsed down south, near the old Jenkins place. Folks tried to stop it with sandbags but it was too late by then. Couple men died. Got swept up in the water and drowned."

"Drowned? They couldn't swim?"

"They were both young men, strong swimmers. But when water's flowin' that fast, has that much debris in it, don't much matter how good ya swim."

"We should call a council meeting," she said resolutely.

"Council meetin'?" He pounded another nail into the crib.

"Yes, to talk about preparing the town for flooding. Putting out sandbags and securing the bridge. Perhaps evacuating the homes and businesses closest to the creek."

"I ain't gonna drive you all the way to town just for a council meetin'. Michaela, you're supposed to be on bed rest."

"Oh, I'm not going. You'll go. The town charter says my next of kin can fill in for me if I'm incapacitated, remember?"

"I'll go, huh?" he replied with amusement.

"Yes, you'll go and call an emergency meeting."

"And what makes you think they're gonna listen to me this time? They didn't before."

"Well, now they know it could happen. Just like it did the winter of sixty-seven. Surely they'll remember how devastating that was."

"Folks have a way of not thinkin' about things like that. It's called denial."

"But you'll try, won't you?" she replied, looking down at him pleadingly.

He smiled, unable to refuse her when she was being this earnest. "I'll try."

She smiled, then suddenly grimaced, closing her eyes and clutching her belly. "Oh. Contraction."

He immediately dropped his tools and came to the bed. "Practice kind, right?"

She nodded, instinctively falling into deep, heavy breathing. He rubbed her arm helplessly and studied her face. He could usually tell by her expression how bad they were, and not since she was truly in labor a few years ago with Jack had he seen her looking this unhappy. He sat on the bed and smoothed her hair from her brow.

"You all right?" he whispered, gently caressing her face. "Ya wanna lay down? Michaela?"

She shook her head vehemently, bracing her hands against the mattress and squeezing the sheets hard.

"Ya sure it's practice?" he asked. "Seems like a big one."

"Sully, don't talk."

"Sorry," he whispered.

At last she let out her breath in a long gasp, opened her eyes, and looked up at him with surprise. "They're really starting to hurt."

"Maybe ya should start writin' 'em down, timin' 'em."

She reached for the pad and pencil laid out on the nightstand and quickly scribbled down the time. "I already am."

He smiled. "Oh. Figures."

She put the pad aside. "I don't know how long I can keep this little one inside." She swallowed fearfully. "Sully, what if I can't? Even on bed rest I still feel like my body really wants to go into labor."

"So it might be a little early, but a lot better than before," he said reassuringly. "Michaela, if you're tryin' to make it to your due date I ain't sure that's gonna happen. Maybe we should more just try keepin' you and the baby healthy and not worry about due dates. If that means ya only stay pregnant a couple more days, maybe weeks if we're lucky, then that's all right. We'll just do our best."

"You still want me to take that castor oil, don't you?"

He swallowed hard. "I think you're bein' real brave tryin' to hold out, stuck in bed like this not feelin' your best. I know you're just doin' it for the baby. If the baby could it'd thank ya." He drew her into a reassuring hug.

"Thank you for letting me make this decision myself. I know how much you disagree."

"When's the last time I told you what to do?" he replied wryly.

"Hm. Never," she replied, caressing his shoulder.

He smiled and returned to the crib, picking up an old rag and running it down the front where Michaela and Claudette had painted a bouquet of lilacs.

"Oh, Sully, it's beautiful. Claudette's right, it looks so feminine. I love it."

"Feminine, huh? We're gonna have one confused child if it's a boy."

"Don't worry. Mother has a sixth sense about these things. I believe her."

He raised his eyebrows skeptically. "I'll believe her when I see it," he replied with a smile.

Sully unraveled a topographical map of the town and surrounding areas, pointing to the middle. "This shows where Bear Creek runs. I measured the water level here, out by my homestead. It's about a foot from the banks. Down here toward Shantytown it's already half a foot."

Dorothy hastily wrote in her notebook around her neck. A few other townsfolk were gathered in the first few pews, most of them skeptically listening to the council as they discussed what to do. Robert E. was standing near the back door with Grace.

Hank slouched in his chair, crossing his arms. "I still say this is a waste of time. It'll stop rainin' and the water level'll go down."

Sully glanced at him. "If ya think this ain't gonna happen, it's happened before."

"Winter of sixty-seven. I remember," Loren said, scratching his nose. "But that year we got rain every day for a month. Not nearly as much as we're gettin' now."

"Maybe so, but the snows melted a lot earlier this year, makin' the problem worse. Even if it stopped rainin' right now, it'll be a few days before the creek goes down. I don't know what else I can say to convince ya this is inevitable."

Jake turned the gavel in his hands impatiently. "Point is what do you expect us to do about it, Sully?"

"We put sandbags down around our homes, our businesses. And we evacuate the buildings closest to the creek. That includes Shantytown, and your Gazette, Miss Dorothy. The church and the school."

"The school!" Loren exclaimed. "Just what I need, a bunch of youn'uns runnin' around town with no place constructive to be."

"Oh, Sully, but I've never missed puttin' out an issue of the Gazette," Dorothy protested, laying down her pencil for a moment.

"Ya might have to," he replied, rolling up his map. "Now I propose we allocate ten dollars to supplies for sand bags. Burlap sacks and shovels from the mercantile. Unless you wanna donate all that, Loren."

Loren laughed, shaking his head.

"And I also propose we ask every able-bodied man to come help fill 'em and stack 'em."

"Ten dollars!" Hank said. "I can think of a lot better things we can be spendin' our money on."

"This is takin' too long as it is," Jake said. "All those in favor of allocating ten dollars to a bunch of sandbags and evacuating the town raise your hands."

Sully raised his hand and the Reverend raised his a moment later.

"Opposed?" Jake raised his hand and Loren and Hank followed suit. "Well, that settles it," he said, banging his gavel. "Sorry, Sully, your motion's denied."

Sully sighed and tucked the map under his arm.

"I'm going to cancel church this Sunday," the Reverend said, standing up and gripping his cane.

"Reverend, you sayin' you buy all this?" Loren demanded.

"It may have been twelve years ago, but I still remember those funerals. Hart Miller and Jeremiah Porter. Hart left a wife and three children. I'm not going to expose my congregation to something this dangerous."

Jake crossed his arms. "Well, you can cancel church if you want. Not like you're losin' anything save what's in the collection plate. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna close up shop until who knows when. Think of all that business out the window!"

"At least if the creek floods, everybody will still have a good haircut," Loren said with a big laugh.

"Nice try, Sully," Hank said as he slapped him on the back. "Guess you just ain't as convincing as Michaela. Ya don't got the touch."

"I don't see much of a career for you in politics," Loren added with an amused grin.

"Let's get a whiskey, fellas. I wanna be drunk when this happens," Hank said as Loren put on his jacket and they walked out.

"Sully, you really think my café's in danger?" Grace asked worriedly as she approached the table.

"Afraid so, Grace," Sully replied. "If I was you I'd close up, get all your things to higher ground."

"Sully's right. Let's start right now before it's too late," Robert E. said, putting his arm around her reassuringly. "Then we'll head over to Shantytown, see what they're doin'."

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

"No, we'll be all right, Sully. There's plenty of strong men over in Shantytown. You get home to Dr. Mike."

He nodded gratefully and pulled out his gloves, putting them on.

Dorothy strolled up to the table, face flushed. "Well, I guess that didn't go very well."

"Didn't turn out quite how I hoped," he replied evenly.

"Sully, you're sure about this?"

"I'm sure. If ya want I'll send Brian over first thing in the mornin', help ya stack some sandbags around your Gazette."

"Oh, Sully, that would be wonderful. Thank you." She put down her notebook. "I'm gonna print up a special notice, warnin' folks to get to higher ground."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"How's Michaela holdin' up?" she asked as they walked down the aisle to the door.

"All right I guess. But bed rest is about as bad as it sounds. At least for her."

"Oh, poor thing. I bet she just wants to be here in town helpin' to run this meetin'."

"You're right. She can barely sit still she's thinkin' about the town council and the school board and her clinic all the time." He opened the door and they stepped out into the rain.

"Come over to the Gazette and let me give you my copy of Harper's Weekly that just came in. She can have it as long as she wants. I'll read it later."

He smiled softly. "Thanks. She'd like that."

"You just hold on a little longer, Sully," Dorothy said, raising her umbrella over their heads. "All of this is gonna seem like just a minor inconvenience once the baby's here."

"Minor inconvenience," he repeated hesitantly. "I hope you're right, Miss Dorothy."

"Love virtue, and the people will be virtuous," Elizabeth read from her wheelchair. Michaela was reclined in the armchair and footrest, staring out the window worriedly as rain beat against it and a light thunder rolled in the distance. Outside, Brian was securing the shutters closed.

"You know, Michaela, Thoreau isn't as dull as I remember," Elizabeth said. She cleared her throat and turned a page. "'The virtues of a superior man are like the wind; the virtues of a common man are like the grass; the grass, when the wind passes over it, bends.'"

"I hate bed rest," Michaela blurted.

Elizabeth lowered the book. "Well, now you know how I feel!"

"No, I'm serious, Mother. I can't do this another second."

"Nonsense. You can and you will. Now where were we?"

Brian opened the front door, taking off his soaked hat. "Never seen anything like this. Shutters are closed. Just hope Pa and the kids aren't gettin' too wet."

Michaela immediately shifted around. "Brian, how's my garden doing? My tomatoes?"

He hesitated, glancing at Elizabeth. She shook her head at him in caution. He put his hat on the table and tentatively approached her.

"I don't know, Ma," he said, averting his eyes. "I didn't really look."

"It's washed out, isn't it?" she said with a frustrated sigh.

He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "We can replant."

"It's too late in the season for that." She put her blanket aside and grabbing the sides of the chair, rising to her feet.

"Michaela, what are you doing? You'd better just be going to the outhouse," Elizabeth said, whisking off her spectacles.

She grabbed her jacket and put it on, buttoning it up.

"Michaela, get back here," Elizabeth ordered, wheeling her chair toward her. "Sit down."

"Ma, you're not supposed to get up," Brian said worriedly.

She ignored them and put on her cowboy hat, drawing the strings up to her chin.

"Michaela, don't be foolish! You can't go out there!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "What do you think, you're going to save them?"

"I'm going to dig up the seedlings and bring them inside. Any more rain and none of them are going to bear fruit. I'm going to lose my whole crop." She walked briskly to the back door and opened it.

"Brian, stop her!" Elizabeth said firmly.

Brian grabbed his hat off the table and chased after his mother, running out the door. Michaela grabbed a shallow crate leaning against the side of the house along with her gardening gloves and a trowel.

"Ma! It's too late!" he shouted through the rain. "They're gone!"

"Help me," she said, handing him another trowel.

"Ma, this is stupid!"

He followed her over to the garden as she got down awkwardly on her knees, pulled on her gloves and began carefully digging up a tomato seedling, water pouring off her hat and soaking her jacket and hair.

Brian folded his arms against the chill and watched anxiously as more thunder sounded in the distance and a bolt of lightning struck several miles away. "Please," he begged. "Please come inside. Ma."

"I will. Just as soon as I dig these up. Brian, help me!"

He grudgingly crouched down and worked on digging up another seedling.

"Be as gentle as you can with the roots. Don't pull too hard," she instructed, placing one of the seedlings carefully in the crate.

Brian glanced up with relief as the wagon came into view. He dropped his trowel and stood, walking a few feet down the path toward the homestead.

"Pa!" he shouted, waving one arm to get his attention.

Sully jumped down from the wagon and helped the children down. "Brian, what's goin' on?" he called back.

"It's Ma!"

"Get inside," he told the children, nudging them up the stairs. He jogged up the path to the garden, looking down at his wife in disbelief as she dug around another seedling in the pouring rain.

"Michaela, are ya crazy? What're you trying to do?!"

"I tried, Pa. She won't listen!" Brian said.

"My tomato plants. They're dying. I have to bring them out of the rain," she explained, glancing up desperately.

He took a big step toward her and grabbed her arm. "Come on. Get inside."

She brushed him off. "No! We've got to save them!"

"They're gone!" he said firmly. "It's too late!"

"It's not too late!" she retorted stubbornly.

"Michaela, it's a tomato plant! Look at ya! Are ya tryin' to kill yourself?"

She slowly dropped the trowel, sitting back and panting despairingly.

"Michaela, they're gone. Just let 'em go."

"Come inside, Ma. Please," Brian implored.

Sully nodded at him and grasped one arm, Brian grabbed the other and they hoisted her to her feet.

"It'll be all right, Ma. We'll plant again next year," Brian murmured as they guided her back to the door.

She took off her muddy gloves in defeat, dropping them in the bucket near the door and then walking inside.

Elizabeth and the children were waiting in the kitchen, having watched all the commotion from the kitchen window.

"Thank God!" Elizabeth cried as they came into the kitchen and Sully pulled out a chair for Michaela. "What on earth were you thinking getting out of bed and running around out there in this weather?! Start explaining!"

Michaela glanced up, blinking rain from her eyelashes. She took off her hat, suddenly noticing Katie was quietly crying.

"You're supposed to stay still, Mama," Red Eagle said hoarsely.

Byron grabbed a hand towel off the rack and ran up behind her, running it down her damp hair. "Remember, Mama? No gettin' up so the baby can grow. Dr. Cook said."

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "Oh, Katie. Come here."

Katie ran to her and hugged her tightly, sniffling.

"It's all right. I'm fine," Michaela soothed, stroking her hair. "Don't cry."

Elizabeth cleared her throat, sensing Michaela and Sully needed a moment alone. "Come along, sweethearts. We'll start your homework."

Brian rested his hand on Red Eagle's shoulder. "I'll help ya, too. Come on." He grabbed Elizabeth's wheelchair and pushed her into the sitting room, and the children reluctantly followed them.

Michaela unbuttoned her coat and wriggled out of it as Sully silently added a log to the stove and put the kettle on for tea, not looking at her. She watched him for a moment, swallowing hard.

"Sully, I'm sorry," she finally whispered.

He spun around, brow fixed with anger and worry. "Case you forgot you are very sick right now. You're riskin' your life to carry that baby a little longer. So you decide you'll go out there in this weather?"

"My tomato plants. Sully, we worked so hard on the garden this year. All of us."

"It doesn't matter! It's one crop!"

She bit back tears. "Sully, you're staying home with me, you're turning down work to look after me, not to mention my mother. Now I'm not working either. Financially we've never struggled like this before. And now we're about to have another mouth to feed? My garden feeds our family."

"So it's not gonna be a good harvest this year. We'll deal with that when the time comes. Michaela, you let me worry about this. You think I'm gonna let us starve?"

"Of course not. I just, I want to help."

"It's bed rest! It's supposed to involve a bed at some point!"

"Do you know how helpless I feel laying in bed all day? Sully, I can't stand it."

He dropped his hands at his sides. "I don't know what else to do. I stay home, I look after the kids, cook the meals, go to the town council when you can't. I'm tryin' to do everything I can to support ya, make this easier on ya. The kids and your ma are really helpin' out, too. What do you want us to do?"

"No, I'm not asking you to do anything. You've been wonderful. All of you. It's not you."

"Michaela, I know this is tough. Maybe the toughest thing we ever had to do. But we got no choice here."

"Maybe you were right. We never should have had a baby."

He paused, taken aback.

"Perhaps it was a mistake," she whispered.

He approached her and gently caressed her stomach. "Michaela, I didn't mean that. This baby's no mistake. And it's not just another mouth to feed either. This is the best thing that's happened to us in a long time."

"I just feel like everything's gone wrong. I wasn't supposed to have morning sickness the entire pregnancy. I certainly wasn't supposed to develop toxemia and have to go on bed rest. Now I can't leave the house, I can barely take care of Mother, let alone our children. I can't even have the kind of delivery I want because the midwife refuses to take me on. And now I've lost my garden."

"You keep this up and I'm gonna lose you. You asked me to help convince the town that creek was gonna flood. Well, I don't know how I can convince you to take everything Andrew's told us seriously."

"I know. I'm trying. I'm sorry," she said, suddenly falling into tears.

He immediately drew her into a tight hug, stroking her damp hair. "Hey, it's all right to get upset about it. This ain't been easy on anybody, least of all you."

She sniffled and wiped at her tears with the back of her hand.

He kissed her cheek. "Ya know what Dorothy said? Once we see our baby this is all gonna seem like a minor inconvenience."

"Right now it doesn't feel that way."

"But I think she's right. We just gotta hang onto that."

She nodded and gently kissed his cheek. "How did the council meeting go?"

He sighed.

"That well, hm?"

He squeezed her hand. "Don't think about it, all right? Just one more thing ya don't need to worry about."

She nodded reluctantly and hugged him again. "I'm sorry, Sully. I'm sorry. I'll take this more seriously from now on. I promise."

He kissed her softly, reassured, and gently rocked her.

Sully handed Elizabeth a teacup to dry. Then he reached into the sudsy water and pulled out a plate, slowly running the washcloth down it. It had been a quiet supper, especially with Michaela resting upstairs, and even quieter evening. Eventually he put the children to bed and then set to work cleaning up the kitchen.

"I know!" Elizabeth suddenly said, her eyes brightening. "We'll throw her a surprise party!"

"Her birthday was last month," he muttered.

"Not for her birthday for heaven's sake. For the baby. A baby shower."

"Ya can't solve everythin' with a party, Elizabeth."

"Who says I'm trying to solve everything? I'm just trying to cheer her up. What's so wrong about throwing a little party?"

He rinsed the plate under the pump, sighing. "Nothin'. Go ahead. Throw a party."

"Well, don't get too excited," she said dryly.

"Guess I just ain't in the mood for things like that right now."

"Well, stop scowling and moping around. Michaela shouldn't see you like this right now. For her sake, Sully, pull yourself together."

He handed her the plate. Elizabeth was right, as much as he was frightened for both Michaela and the baby, it was probably better he try to stay optimistic around her. It was only going to upset her more to see him so worried.

She smiled. "Well, do I have your permission? Can I throw my party?"

"Your party? Thought it was for her."

"You know what I mean," she retorted impatiently.

"Long as she stays off her feet at this party, I guess."

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "Let me make a list!"

"Unravel it across here, Brian," Elizabeth instructed as Brian stood on a chair and strung a white streamer across the living room ceiling. Katie was sweeping nearby. The room was decorated profusely with lots of white and pink, from the tablecloths to the streamers to the bouquets of carnations. Elizabeth didn't care if anyone thought she had gone overboard, nor did she care if anyone complained about all the pink. She was intent everything look spectacular no matter what.

"Here's a nail, Brian," Sarah said, handing him up a nail. He pounded it in, securing the streamer.

Byron sunk into a chair and stared at the china tea cups arranged around the table. "Is this gonna be just a tea party?"

Red Eagle picked up a teacup and turned it over distrustfully.

"Red Eagle, put that back. No, it's not just a tea party," Elizabeth explained. "There's going to be games and lots of presents and all sorts of fun."

"Fun?" Byron repeated skeptically.

"Oh, I hear your father. Go help him with the food, boys."

Byron and Red Eagle raced outside where Sully was pulling up in the wagon, Grace next to him. Dorothy drove up in her buggy behind him, Faye, Anna Marie Sheehan and a few other women from the sewing circle riding with her.

Sully hopped down and pulled out a few covered trays that Grace had carefully filled with her best hors d'oeuvres.

Dorothy carried a bundle of flowers and all the women were holding wrapped presents.

"Hey, where are all the boys?" Byron demanded. "Where's Mr. Bray? And Kirk? And Robert E.?"

Dorothy laughed and ascended the stairs. "It's a baby shower, Byron. You don't invite boys!"

"You think Kirk would be caught dead at one of these?" Faye added, putting her arm around him.

"Robert E. would sooner put on an apron and run my café than come to a baby shower," Grace said.

"Papa, do you know all they're gonna do is have some big tea party?" Byron announced. "Gran'ma got all the good cups out."

"And tea," Red Eagle added. "Lots of it."

"I'm not sure it's gonna be fun," Byron said.

"Yep, probably won't be," Sully replied.

Byron looked up at him anxiously. "Papa, fact is, we're gonna be the only boys there!"

"Yeah, Pa," Red Eagle added.

He chuckled at their flabbergasted, dismayed expressions. "Ya can stop frettin'. I'm takin' you two and Brian fishin' once we finish settin' up."

"You are? Yippie!" Byron screeched.

He laughed. "Get that crate in the back, all right? The small one. Let's help give Mama a nice party."

Sully opened the bedroom door, finding Michaela curled up on her side, her eyes closed.

"I'm sorry. Ya sleepin'?" he murmured.

"Sleep? What's that?" she replied, opening her eyes.

Katie poked her head in eagerly. "Mama, wanna come downstairs?"

She glanced at her a little skeptically. "What's going on?"

"Nothin'," Sully said smoothly. "Just thought maybe ya'd like to come down and rest on the settee."

"All right. Just help me up," she replied, reaching her arms toward him. "Sometimes I feel like a ship stuck in the sand."

Katie giggled and stepped into the room as Sully lifted her from the pillows and helped her to her feet.

Michaela suddenly noticed Katie's pretty pink pinafore and neat braids tied off with matching ribbons. "Oh, did Grandma help you with your hair, sweetheart? It's so pretty."

She nodded, eyes bright with mischief.

She stepped into her slippers and Sully held out her bathrobe as she slipped her arms into it. Katie held her hand and led her to the staircase, Sully behind them. Michaela stopped short at the sight of all the streamers and other decorations. She took a few more steps down and spotted all her friends around the table. Elizabeth was in the center of the group sitting in her wheelchair, looking very pleased with herself.

"Surprise, Michaela," she said.

"Surprise!" everyone echoed.

"What is all this?" Michaela blurted, descending the remaining stairs.

"A baby shower of course," Elizabeth replied.

"Baby shower?"

"Don't look quite so shocked, Michaela. You are having a baby."

She looked back at Sully accusingly. "I'm not even dressed," she hissed.

He smirked. "That's all right. They'll understand."

"Come on, Mama. Over here," Katie bid, leading her mother to the settee in the center of the room. "We got three kinds of tea and Miss Grace made little sandwiches."

"Bye! We're goin' fishin'! The party's not for boys!" Byron called from the front doorway, his pole strung over his shoulder.

Michaela chuckled and waved. "Oh. Goodbye."

"I'm gonna take 'em down to the creek," Sully said, leaning over the settee and giving her a kiss. "Don't have too much fun without us."

Michaela watched them go and then eyed her mother.

"How? When? Mother, I don't believe you."

"Believe it," Elizabeth said with a satisfied grin. "Now let's pour the tea and open your presents!"

Dorothy tiredly pushed the handle of her printing press forward. Then she took off the sheet of newsprint and hung it up to dry.

She suddenly noticed Loren standing in the doorway, dressed in a dark suit and holding a bundle of flowers.

"Evenin', Dorothy," he said wryly.

She eyed him up and down uneasily. "Loren?"

"How was Dr. Mike's party?"

"It was fine," she said, still staring at him curiously.

"Thought we could have supper together. It's meatloaf day."

"Supper?"

"You can stop givin' me that look. I promise I ain't gonna propose again."

She smiled softly, removing her apron. "In that case, supper sounds good." She grabbed her shawl and put it over her arm and followed him outside.

"Warm night," he remarked as he led her down the ally to the café. They sat down at a table with a small vase of flowers and Loren removed his hat and put it on the table beside him.

Grace approached them with her coffee pot and two mugs. "Evenin', Dorothy. Loren."

"Grace," Dorothy replied.

"I'll have the meatloaf," Loren said.

Grace filled the mugs. "I know what you want," she replied, glancing at him wryly.

"Make that two meatloafs please," Dorothy added.

"Comin' right up," Grace said, spinning around and heading back to her stove.

He took a sip of his coffee and gazed at her with a smile. "There's something I wanted to tell you."

"Wait, there's something I gotta tell you first." She sighed softly. "I can never thank you enough for how good you've been to me over the years. Takin' me in, helping me start my Gazette, supporting me in everything I've done. But there's something I need you to know."

"What's that?"

"As much as I've grown to depend on you, can't imagine what things would be like without you….you need to know it's all right with me if you want to court other ladies, make other friends."

"Oh, Dorothy. I know that."

"I just don't want you to turn down…opportunities….for my sake."

He reached across the table and patted her hand. "I won't. Say, maybe I could take both you and Elizabeth to a play in Denver sometime."

"Loren Bray, you'd be the talk of the town! Two ladies on your arm like that!"

He chuckled. "Guess I would be."

"What were you going to say?"

He smiled. "Just that you're the best friend I have here, and always will be. No matter who else I might meet."

"Me, too, Loren," she replied, smiling at him softly as Grace brought out the meatloafs and put them in front of them.

Teresa finished writing a long paragraph on the board. She turned. "Children, please copy what I have written in your best script."

Byron grabbed his leather spectacles case and reached in. He stopped short and turned it over, shaking it frantically.

"What's wrong?" Red Eagle whispered, clutching his pencil.

He looked at him in horror. "My spectacles! They're gone!"

"Maybe you lost 'em."

"No, I put them back in the case before lunch. I know I did." He pressed his hands to his forehead. "Oh, no. Mama's gonna be so mad!"

Herman tapped Byron on the shoulder, holding up the spectacles with a grin.

"Lookin' for these, four eyes?"

Byron spun around, grabbing the spectacles. "Hey, where'd you find those?!" Byron stopped short. One of the lenses was cracked beyond repair. He gasped.

Herman laughed loudly.

"You broke 'em!" Red Eagle exclaimed. "I'm telling' my ma!"

"I'll just tell her you're a liar. She won't believe you. Nobody believes an Injun."

Teresa tapped her ruler firmly on her desk. "Children, is there a problem? Boys?"

Herman couldn't stop laughing. "No, ma'am."

Teresa got up impatiently and walked to their desks. "Why aren't you working on the assignment?"

Tears slipped down Byron's cheeks. "I can't see the board. My spectacles broke."

Teresa picked up the shattered spectacles, mouth dropping open. "How did this happen?"

"Herman broke them, Miss Teresa," Red Eagle spoke up bravely.

"I didn't!" Herman protested. "I swear I didn't! Ma'am, you don't aim to say you're gonna believe some thieving little Injun over me!"

Teresa searched Herman's desk and spotted a small piece of glass. She pointed at it. "How did this end up on your desk?"

"They're trying to get me in trouble!" he cried. "They've been after me since the day I came here!"

Teresa clutched his arm. "Stand up, Herman. You're going to spend the rest of the day in the corner, and you'll stay after school every day this week sweeping the floor and cleaning the blackboard. And I'm writing a note to your father about this."

"Ma'am!" he cried. "Please, you gotta believe me!"

She pointed at the corner firmly. "Now!"

He trudged over, muttering to himself the whole way. "I hate this stupid school and this stupid teacher."

"What did you say?" Teresa said.

"I said I hate this stupid school and you're a stupid teacher!" he retorted loudly.

Teresa pointed at the corner again lividly, and he turned around and pressed his head against the wall, crossing his arms.

Byron was close to sobs by the time Teresa turned her attention back to him. She gently touched his shoulder. "Byron, please go outside and get a drink of water from the pump and wash your face."

He shook his head. "My ma…she sees I broke my spectacles she…"

"I will talk to your father when he picks you up," Teresa said reassuringly. "I will explain everything that happened. You will not be in trouble. Mark, you go with him and help him."

"Yes, ma'am," Red Eagle said, putting his arm around Byron.

Stephen Sexton suddenly swung open the schoolhouse door. All the children spun around.

He stepped inside. "Herman? Herm, what're you doing in the corner?"

"What're you doing here, Pa?" Herman asked curiously.

He motioned for him. "Come on, get your things. We're leaving."

"Now?

"Senor Sexton, I must speak with you about your son," Teresa said. "He has been causing many problems."

"Herm's been telling me about that," Stephen replied. "Seems your students been giving him a hard time. Sounds to me like you can't keep an orderly classroom."

Teresa gazed back at him in shock. "My classroom was more than orderly until he joined us! Today he broke one of my student's spectacles!"

"Ya got proof of that?" He motioned for his son. "Come on, Herm. Get your things."

Herman scurried to the coat rack and took down his jacket, then grabbed his lunch pail.

"I found glass at his desk!" Teresa exclaimed. "Is that proof?"

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, ma'am, but we need to be on our way."

"You mean we're goin', Pa? We're goin' home?" Herm asked excitedly.

"That's right. We're getting out of here and back to Memphis just as soon as I take care of some last little business in Pueblo."

"Mr. Sexton!" Teresa called as he spun around and walked out of the schoolhouse. "Mr. Sexton!"

Stephen lifted Herman into the back of the wagon and climbed up beside his older son. He grabbed the reins and slapped them hard.

Teresa shut the door, slowly turning back around. All the children were looking at her curiously. "Work on your assignments," she instructed quietly.

"I'm very sorry," Teresa said, standing beside her desk and handing Sully the shattered spectacles.

Sully carefully touched the broken lens. "It's all right. We'll replace 'em. Just wanna be sure my son's all right."

"I did not want it to come to this. It is difficult to know what to do about a class bully. I've tried everything."

"You're doin' your best. Guess all ya can do is keep tryin'."

"I don't think I'll have the chance. His father pulled him out of school today. He said they're going home."

"Mr. Sexton left today? He wasn't supposed to leave until day after tomorrow."

"He marched into my classroom a few hours ago and took Herman. He said they were heading to Pueblo."

Sully put the broken glasses carefully in his pocket. It was hard to believe Stephen had taken off just like that without picking up his wheels. It didn't make sense. He touched her shoulder. "I best head home. You're a good teacher. Don't let a student like that convince ya otherwise."

She nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."

He nodded and headed outside where the children were waiting for him on the porch. Katie had her arm around Byron, and Red Eagle was gazing at him sympathetically. He was still decidedly upset, but at least he wasn't crying anymore.

Sully crouched down beside him and gave him a big hug. "How ya doin', son?"

"What'd the teacher say, Papa?" he asked with trepidation.

"Nothin' much. Just that she's real sorry this happened to ya. And that she hopes we can fix 'em soon. Don't worry. I'll talk to your mama and see if we can get ya a new pair by the end of the week."

"Good. I'm not in trouble then," he whispered, hugging Sully tighter.

"No, course not. None of ya are." He stood and held his hand. "Let's head home, we'll go see Mama, all right?"

Katie took his other hand and Red Eagle clutched his jacket and they headed to the wagon.

Michaela sat in the wingback chair with her feet up, slowly flipping through a catalogue and admiring all the baby clothes, as well as more practical items like bottles, diaper cloths and baby powder. Until now she had been reluctant to buy anything but the bare essentials for the baby. She had a few things upstairs in the cabinet ready for when it arrived and her friends had generously given her lots of other things at the baby shower, including some more clothes, a baby blanket, rattles and stuffed animals and rag dolls. Now she felt a lot more comfortable ordering everything else she wanted given that Sully was making fifty dollars on the wheels. As soon as Mr. Sexton paid up, Sully himself had promised her he would take the catalogue into town and order whatever she thought they needed and then some. She couldn't help but be a little giddy. There was nothing more fun than shopping for a new baby.

"Mother, look at this bonnet," Michaela said, turning the catalogue toward her and pointing at the picture with a little giggle.

Elizabeth glanced up from her wheelchair beside her, engrossed in the baby names book again. "Oh. How darling. Michaela, how do you feel about Pricilla?"

"Don't start, Mother," Michaela said just as Brian and Sarah opened the front door, hand in hand.

"Hey, Ma," Brian said. "How ya doin'?"

"Oh, I'm feeling fine. Good afternoon, Sarah."

"Afternoon, Dr. Mike. My ma and me made you a casserole for supper."

She smiled, noticing the large basket in her hand. "Oh, thank you, sweetheart. That's so thoughtful. What with being on bed rest I haven't been able to cook a thing. It's been difficult."

"The rest of us don't mind so much," Brian said teasingly.

She shot him a wry, scolding look. "I've gotten a lot better than I used to be, young man."

"I should put it in the oven," Sarah said, heading toward the kitchen. "It'll be ready in a few hours."

"Wonderful," Michaela replied, content to sit back and allow other people to look after her and her family when she never was before. She was suddenly very determined to stay as still and relaxed as possible in bed or reclined in the wingback chair with her feet up. Every day counted. Every day meant a healthier baby. She had no choice but to accept help.

Brian hung up his hat and jacket as he heard a wagon approaching outside. "You expectin' somebody, Ma?"

"No, I don't think so."

He put his jacket back on and headed back outside, folding his arms against the chill. Mr. Sexton and his sons were pulling up to the porch in their wagon.

"We're here for the wheels we ordered, boy," Stephen called.

"I'm sorry. My pa ain't back from town yet."

"He's not, huh? Well, we've already seen him in town. I paid for the wheels and he said I could pick them up."

Brian clutched the porch post. "I thought he was gonna deliver 'em."

"Well, he was, but not anymore. Son, I'm on a tight schedule. I have to be in Pueblo by tomorrow morning and we're going to have to drive half the night as it is."

"Hang on a minute," Brian said, turning and walking back inside. "Mr. Sexton's here, Ma."

Michaela instantly tensed. "He is?"

"Should I invite him inside? Ya wanna talk to 'im?"

"No, no," Michaela said quickly.

"He wants the wheels. He said he saw Pa in town. Pa said he could pick 'em up."

"Oh. He did?" she replied with confusion. "That's odd."

"I'd like to see some cash before we hand over those wheels," Elizabeth spoke up.

"They said Pa has the money. They gave it to him in town," Brian explained.

Elizabeth shook her head skeptically. "Still, I don't think I-"

Frank suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Mrs. Sully," he said with a spine-tingling grin. "Just wanted to let you know what a pleasure it's been doing business with you. If you weren't such a genteel lady I'd have half a mind to invite you out for a drink."

Michaela tensed all the further and held onto the arms of the chair. The truth was she was afraid of Frank Sexton, and feeling especially vulnerable unable to get around very easily with the baby just weeks away. She just wanted him out of her house and as far away from her and her family as possible. "Your wheels are in the barn. Take them," she whispered.

"Thank you very much," he said, winking at her and shutting the door.

Sully carried Byron inside, Red Eagle and Katie behind him.

"Oh, good, you're home," Elizabeth remarked.

"What smells so good?" he asked, sitting Byron on the table and helping him off with his jacket.

"Casserole from the Sheehans," Brian called from the kitchen.

"He had a little accident in school today," Sully said, smoothing Byron's hair.

"Oh? What happened?" Michaela asked curiously.

"I broke my spectacles," Byron said, suddenly bursting into tears again. "I'm sorry, Mama."

"Hey, it's all right, son. It's all right," Sully soothed.

"It wasn't his fault, Mama," Red Eagle explained. "Herman took them and broke them."

"Then his papa came and took him out of school," Katie added.

"I ain't sure what's goin' on," Sully explained. "I gotta ride out to the Chateau, talk to Preston and find out if they checked out of his hotel. Don't make sense he would leave without gettin' his wheels." Sully suddenly noticed Michaela and Elizabeth looking at him timidly from the sitting room. "What's the matter?"

"Mr. Sexton was out here about an hour ago to pick up the wheels," Elizabeth explained.

Brian entered from the kitchen, Sarah close behind him. "He said he talked to you, Pa. Earlier today."

Sully shook his head. "I ain't seen him in a week." He paused, digesting it all. "You sayin' he took off with those wheels without paying?"

"I knew it," Elizabeth announced proudly. "I knew something was strange about them. The way that young man was staring at you, Michaela. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up!"

"Sully, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I let them take the wheels," Michaela said guiltily. "I just…I wanted them to leave."

"It's all right. Ya didn't know," Sully replied, grabbing his belt and putting it back on and reaching for his jacket.

"Where ya goin', Papa?" Byron whispered.

"Sully, don't go after them. Just, just have Matthew wire the marshal and let him handle this," Michaela protested.

Sully ignored her and buckled his belt around his waist.

"You can't mean to settle this by yourself!" Elizabeth spoke up firmly. "That's vigilantism!"

"Sully, please," Michaela begged.

"Michaela, that's my hard work," he retorted, glaring at her. "That's my time away from my wife and my children. We were countin' on that money for our family, our new baby."

"Please, they frighten me so," she said emotively. "I'm afraid of what might happen. You could be hurt! Wire the marshal."

"They'll be halfway back to Memphis before he gets out here. We wanna see a dime of that money I gotta take care of this myself."

"I'm comin' with ya," Brian said resolutely.

Sully turned toward him. "I need ya to stay here with your ma, your gran'ma."

"But, Pa!"

"They come back, I want somebody here," Sully murmured, gripping his shoulder.

Brian relented, realizing Sully had a point. It probably was a good idea he stay behind and keep an eye on things. "Yes, sir," he murmured.

"Oh, Sully, please be careful," Michaela implored.

He walked to her side and gave her a gentle, comforting kiss. "You stay in bed. I'll be back before sundown. I promise."

"Sexton!" Sully shouted angrily. He galloped his horse toward their wagon on the quiet road toward Pueblo.

"Mr. Sully!" Stephen replied, gradually slowing his wagon to a stop. Frank was sitting beside him and Herman was in the back, playing with a toy wooden pistol his father had bought him at the mercantile.

"What's goin' on here?" Sully demanded, spotting the wheels stacked in the back of their wagon. "I heard ya came to my homestead, took the wheels."

"Yes, we did pick up the wheels."

"I'm gonna assume it slipped your mind to pay me for my time," Sully replied, glaring at him.

Stephen put the brake on the wagon. "Mr. Sully, we discussed this weeks ago. You know I wasn't happy with the spikes. We wanted them sharp as daggers."

"I told ya, it's too dangerous. I had to round 'em off."

"Well, that's not what I wanted. You didn't fulfill your end of the bargain."

"You ain't pleased then I'm takin' 'em back," Sully said, jumping down from his horse and pulling down the back end of the wagon.

"Don't touch 'em!" Frank shouted, swiftly removing his revolver from the holster and pointing it at him.

Sully slowly put his hands in the air, backing up. "All right. All right. Take it easy."

"Yeah, don't touch 'em!" Herman added, pointing his toy pistol at him. "Pow, pow!"

Frank climbed down from the wagon, still pointing the gun. "We aim to take 'em back East, have somebody there do the spikes to my liking. Meantime, you best be on your way."

Sully felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Stephen had no intention of paying anything close to fifty dollars, and his impulsive son was pointing a gun at him. He could see no easy way to get his wheels back, but he wasn't about to back down now.

"It's stealin'!" Sully spat back. "If we have to, I'll wire the circuit judge, have him sort this out. Either way, you ain't makin' off with my wheels."

Stephen held up one hand. "All right, all right. Everyone calm down. Frank, give me the gun."

He glanced at him in disbelief. "Pa!"

"Gimme it!" he shouted, grabbing it from his son. He climbed down from the wagon, pointing the gun downward. "You're right, Sully. I have to give you something for your time."

Sully lowered his hands, immensely relieved.

Stephen went to reach into his jacket pocket but instead quickly raised the gun and struck Sully across the face hard with the barrel. Sully stumbled back, caught off guard. He clutched his cheek where blood was oozing. Before he could regain his bearings and defend himself Stephen struck him across the temple, knocking him off his feet.

"Get 'im, Papa!" Herman exclaimed. "Get 'im good!"

Stephen finished the job with a swift kick to his ribs.

Sully groaned and rolled to one side, closing his eyes. Seconds later he lost consciousness.

"Now what?" Frank asked, panting.

Stephen stepped back, wiping his brow of sweat. "Let's get him off the road."

Sarah laid a tray across Michaela's lap that contained a plate stacked high with several spoonfuls of the steaming casserole, a roll and a cup of coffee. Lightning struck nearby, illuminating the room. Michaela looked out the window worriedly, for once food the last thing on her mind.

Elizabeth, Brian and the children were silently eating supper at the table nearby, everyone very worried about Sully but no one wanting to bring it up and upset Michaela further.

"Eat, Dr. Mike," Sarah encouraged, handing her a fork and taking a seat at the table.

Michaela pushed around her food a moment. At last she laid the fork across her plate. "He said he would be back by sundown," she suddenly blurted, turning in her chair to look at Brian and Elizabeth.

Elizabeth ate another bite of food casually. "Well, something must have delayed him."

"Brian, why don't you ride into town and find Matthew, go out and look for him?"

"In this weather!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

Brian got up and walked to the coat rack. He didn't mind staying home with his mother and grandmother, and he took the responsibility seriously, but he would much rather be looking for Sully as opposed to just waiting. And he knew Michaela and Elizabeth would be in good hands with Sarah around.

"I think he must have just took shelter from the storm," Sarah spoke up.

"He's trying not to get soaked," Red Eagle said.

Michaela shook her head. "A little storm like this wouldn't stop him. He would press on through it."

Brian buttoned up his jacket and put on his cowboy hat.

"You're going to get all wet," Katie remarked with concern.

"Can I come?" Byron spoke up, looking at his older brother hopefully.

"No, absolutely not!" Elizabeth said, tapping her fork to his plate. "Eat your supper."

Brian opened the door. "Stay in bed, Ma."

"Don't worry about me. Just find him, Brian."

"I will," he vowed, opening the door and slamming it behind him.

Michaela awoke the next morning just before dawn to a light sprinkle. She had a punishing crick in her back and she hadn't slept very soundly, but at the moment she didn't care how tired or uncomfortable she was. She looked at the empty place beside her. She had been hoping and praying Sully would be back by now and she would find him in bed next to her when she woke up. But he was still missing.

"Brian!" she called. She sat up in bed anxiously. "Brian, are you back?"

A few moments later Brian hurried up the stairs and opened her door. "I'm here, Ma." He was buttoning up a dry shirt and was wearing an old pair of boots after soaking through his other ones.

"Did you find him?" she asked, knowing the answer.

He shook his head. "Me and Matthew looked all night."

Matthew suddenly appeared in the doorway.

Michaela looked up at him tearfully. "Oh, Matthew. Where could he be? What's happened?"

"Don't worry, Dr. Mike. We're gonna get some men together, go out and look at first light. I'm just gathering some supplies now."

"It was just too dark last night," Brian explained gently. "Even if he was out there we probably wouldn't have seen him."

"I wired the sheriff in Pueblo," Matthew added. "He says he'll keep a lookout for Mr. Sexton and his sons if they show up there."

"Do you think they hurt him?" she whispered.

Matthew folded his arms. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Listen, we're gonna find him. Just stay in bed, all right, Ma?"

Michaela smiled softly. Matthew so rarely called her Ma, and it reassured her. She squeezed his hand. "Yes, I won't move," she promised them.

"All right, I think we should split up," Matthew said, leaning on his saddle horn. "It's possible the Sextons took the back roads to Pueblo. Sully could turn up on one of those."

"That's a good idea," Robert E. said as Kirk pulled out his canteen and took a swig.

"Robert E, you and Kirk head east to the old Hanover road," Matthew said. "Brian and me'll follow Fountain Creek."

Brian looked out toward one of the hills. He spotted a chestnut horse grazing on the grass, fully saddled and dragging its reins in the dust.

"It's a horse. It's Buck!" Brian shouted.

"I'll get him," Kirk volunteered, grabbing a rope off his saddle and galloping out toward the hill. He whistled at the stallion and easily rounded him up, then trotted back toward the group, dragging him along.

Brian dismounted and patted the horse's shoulder. "He looks all right. He ain't hurt. Good boy, Buck."

"If his horse's around here he can't be far," Kirk said.

"Sully!" Matthew called.

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

"He's on the main road. I know he is," Brian said resolutely. "We just can't see him for some reason."

"He's hurt he may have gone off the road to get some water or rest," Kirk speculated.

Matthew glanced at him, then took charge. "All right, here's what we're gonna do. We'll stick to the main road for now. Robert E. and Kirk, you double back. Look along the sides of the road carefully. And Brian and me'll keep going south."

"We'll stop at the homestead, too, return the horse to the barn and get him watered, let the womenfolk know," Kirk added.

"That's a good idea," Matthew said approvingly.

"Tell Ma we ain't givin' up," Brian said. "We ain't givin' up."

"I just can't believe it," Faye remarked as Danielle slept over her shoulder. "Who would take off like that without so much as payin'?"

Michaela looked up at her for a moment and then returned her attention to the window. Faye had immediately volunteered to come over and help out the moment Kirk joined the search party. Grace was going to bring supper by later and Sarah was outside doing the laundry for the week. Even Elizabeth was being as helpful as she possibly could given that she was in a wheelchair, putting together some sandwiches for lunch and brewing some coffee.

Faye sat in the chair nearby and rubbed the baby's back. "Well, most important thing is we find out where Sully is. Then those men'll get their justice."

"It's my fault," Michaela said quietly.

"How is it your fault? You've been sittin' here the whole time!"

Too distraught to explain herself, Michaela just shook her head and looked out the window again. "If he's out there hurt somewhere he's probably soaked to the skin. Hypothermia can set in very rapidly. He has nothing but his jacket."

Faye cleared her throat, trying to remain optimistic. "I think he just must have took shelter somewhere and is waitin' for the search party. He built a fire, that's what I think."

"It's not like him," she protested. "He promised me he would be home. He would do everything he could not to break that promise."

Faye stood and handed her the baby. "Here, why don't you hold this little pumpkin and I'll help your ma with lunch."

Distracted for a moment, Michaela cradled Danielle warmly to her chest and gave her hair a soft kiss. She could feel her own baby moving inside of her, kicking her every hour or so as if to remind her she was still there and ready to make an appearance very shortly. Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of Sully never coming home. She would have to raise their new baby by herself, not to mention take care of the rest of the family. She had finally started really looking forward to the baby, and especially looking forward to bringing up the new child together with Sully. Their relationship was stronger than ever and she had never been so happy in their marriage. Now all their dreams of the future could be shattered. She hugged Danielle and closed her eyes, letting her tears slip down her cheeks. Suddenly she heard some horses braying outside. She snapped her head up.

"Are they back? Are they back?" she called.

"I'll find out," Faye said as she headed to the door. Elizabeth wheeled her chair toward the door eagerly.

Faye opened the door just as Kirk raced up the steps.

"What's that horse, honey? Is that Sully's?" Faye asked, gazing outside.

"Did you find him?" Michaela asked impatiently.

Kirk clutched Faye's shoulder and gave her a soft kiss, then approached Michaela, removing his hat.

"We just come across Sully's horse, Dr. Mike. About fifteen miles down the main road to Pueblo."

"Any sign of Sully?"

"None to speak of. But at least now we can be sure that's the route he took."

She shook her head. "What does this mean? How did he get separated from his horse?"

Kirk twisted his hat in his hands. He had dozens of possible scenarios spinning in his head, but he wasn't about to burden Michaela with any of those and frighten her more. "Hard to say. Easy for a man to lose his horse in the kind of storm we had."

She glanced down at Danielle. "They had guns. Both of them. They could have shot him."

"That's absurd!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Get that thought out of your head!"

"Why would they shoot a man over wheels?" Faye added.

"Well, we'll get to the bottom of this soon enough," Kirk said, putting his hat back on. "Robert E. and me are gonna head back out there."

"I'll get you some more provisions," Elizabeth said, wheeling her way back to the kitchen.

"Thank you, Kirk," Michaela choked.

"He'd do the same for me," he replied with a nod.

Sarah guided the children inside, holding Byron's hand.

"Any word?" she asked.

"No," Elizabeth spoke up from her seat beside Michaela in the sitting room.

"Why's Papa been gone so long?" Katie demanded, taking off her jacket.

"I don't know. He's just not back yet," Michaela said unsteadily. She glanced at Byron. He was quietly whimpering as Sarah helped him take his jacket off. This had to be the third time in only a few weeks Byron came home from school upset and crying, and she felt terrible. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" she called. "Byron, what's wrong?"

"Miss Teresa made him sit in the front row at school today," Red Eagle explained, placing his books on the table.

"Oh. Because you couldn't see without your spectacles?" Michaela murmured.

He nodded, choking up and walking to her. "I wanted to sit next to Red Eagle. She made me sit up front with all the little kids."

"Well, sweetheart, she just wants you to be able to see the board so you can do your schoolwork properly," Elizabeth explained. "Not to worry, it's only temporary until you get a new pair of spectacles."

His tears flowed faster. "Now everybody's going to think I really am a baby."

Michaela drew him into a hug. Byron had certainly had a tough several weeks at school and she didn't want him to endure any more. She kissed his cheek. "Mama's going to fix this, all right? Sarah, do you think you could drive him out to Dr. Cook's? He could examine his eyes and give him a new pair of spectacles."

"Oh, sure, Dr. Mike, I can do that," Sarah said. "We can go right now."

Byron brightened. "Really, Mama? I can get my new spectacles today?"

"Yes. I want you to go with Sarah to Dr. Cook's and be a good boy while he looks at your eyes, all right?"

"I will."

"Sarah, there's some cash in the drawer there," Michaela instructed, pointing at the far left drawer in the cabinet next to the door.

Sarah opened the door and took out the billfold, pulling out a few dollars. She swallowed hard. "Oh. Is this…is there more?"

Michaela glanced at the money, taken aback. "Oh, no. I forgot Sully made a payment on the store account the other day."

Byron's face fell and his eyes welled with tears again.

Michaela held his hand, struggling to hold back her own tears. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait just a little longer. Can you be a brave boy and do that?"

"I'll pay for it," Elizabeth announced. "I'll go with them and pay for it."

"Mother, that's not-" Michaela protested.

"Michaela, look at him. The poor dear's devastated. You'll pay me back."

Byron ran to Elizabeth and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Gran'ma."

Michaela couldn't tell Byron no. Sully was going to be irate when he found out she allowed Elizabeth to pay for this, but she couldn't make their distraught little boy wait any longer for what was practically a necessity for him.

"All right," Michaela murmured. "Hurry back."

Andrew slid a brand new pair of dark wire spectacles over Byron's ears and adjusted them. "How do those feel?"

Byron wrinkled his nose. "Good."

"Can you read the last line on the chart? Try not to squint," Andrew said, stepping back and pointing at the eye chart hanging on his door.

"L, P, C, T, Z, D," Byron read faultlessly.

Elizabeth clasped her hands as Sarah stood beside her. "Very good, dear. What a clever boy you are."

"Oh, he's so sweet," Sarah remarked. "So handsome!"

Byron giggled and looked up at Andrew. "Do you have any gum drops?"

"Gum drops?" Andrew repeated. He smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid not."

"Oh. Well, you should get a jar for your clinic like my mama has. In case more kids come see you."

"Yes, you're right," he replied, lifting him down from his table. He grabbed Byron's chart and walked to his desk, sitting down and scribbling some notes. "It's a little stronger prescription, but I think he needs it. I'm writing this all down for Michaela so you can show her."

"Oh, thank you. How much does it come to?" Elizabeth asked, opening her purse.

"Six dollars even," he replied, closing the chart and walking to her with the paper. He took the money and handed her the paper.

"Wear those spectacles at school when you need to see the board, all right, Byron?" he said, squeezing his shoulder.

"All right, Dr. Cook," he replied. "Thanks."

He smiled. "You're welcome. Goodbye."

"Come on, future brother-in-law," Sarah said. "Help me push your gran'ma out of here."

Byron grabbed the back of Elizabeth's wheelchair. "If I'm your brother-in-law, what does that make Gran'ma? Is she your Gran'ma-in-law?"

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Oh, well, I suppose she will be."

"Oh, never heard of that," Byron replied as Andrew opened the door for them.

"You've never heard of it because grandmothers never live to be this old and see their grandsons get married," Elizabeth replied grimly.

"Oh!" he replied. "You're lucky, Gran'ma! You get to see Brian get married."

Elizabeth folded her hands pensively and looked back at Sarah. "Yes, I suppose I am, aren't I?"

Sarah smiled and they wheeled Elizabeth out of the Château clinic.

"We all went through this same thing before when Katie was about to be born," Elizabeth remarked quietly as she, Grace, Faye and Sarah sipped their tea at the kitchen table, the fire and a lamp on the table their only light. The rest of the house was sound asleep.

"What do you mean?" Faye whispered.

"Sully went missing for several days. Some trouble with the Indians on the Reservation." She stirred her tea and took a sip. "He always picks the most inopportune times to find himself in a predicament like this."

"Well, if he could he'd be back by now," Grace spoke up.

"This has become a pattern. He disappeared just days before their wedding, too," Elizabeth added. "I'm sure you remember that, Grace."

Michaela suddenly appeared in the back entryway, clutching the doorframe. "Are you implying he has cold feet, Mother?" she demanded.

Elizabeth quickly looked up, nearly choking on her sip of tea. "Michaela. What are you doing up?"

"I'm still allowed to use the outhouse I hope. I can't believe you would suggest such a thing."

"Michaela, I'm only saying something like this always seems to happen just when he's needed the most, that's all. He's always turned up before and I'm sure he'll turn up this time."

"Are you saying this is his fault?" she retorted. "He disappeared intentionally?"

"No! Of course not!"

Faye stood up. "Dr. Mike, you oughta lay back down."

"I promise Brian I wouldn't let you get out of bed," Sarah added.

"I know Stephen and Frank Sexton did something to him," she said solemnly. "And it's all because of me. I pushed him to take that job."

"Oh, don't be absurd," Elizabeth admonished.

She shook her head. "He never wanted to be a wheelwright in the first place. He hates it. And I kept pushing him to do it when I knew how unhappy it made him."

"For heaven's sake, Michaela, the man has a family to support," Elizabeth replied. "This is something he's good at and that he could make a decent living at. Of course he should say yes to jobs like this that come along."

Michaela suddenly drew in her breath sharply and hunched over, clutching her belly.

"Michaela!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Oh. I think she's having a contraction," Faye said.

"Thank you, I can see that!" Elizabeth said impatiently.

Faye calmly moved to stand beside her and clutched her arm and Grace held her other arm. Sarah got up to get a glass of water for her and Elizabeth just kept staring at her worriedly. Michaela grabbed the table and leaned forward, letting out her breath in shallow pants.

"Rock your hips a little. That always helped me," Faye suggested.

Michaela glanced at her timidly and slowly swayed from side to side, and Faye was right that moving around did seem to help. It was uncomfortable to have the four women gathered around her watching her so intently, but she would much rather have someone with her than be alone. She reached one hand behind her and clutched her lower back where the constant ache had suddenly intensified twofold.

"Does your back hurt?" Faye asked.

"I'm all right," Michaela replied, wrinkling up your brow.

"We'll rub it for you," Faye immediately said, shifting around to press her hands against her back as Grace rubbed her shoulder.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Hush," Faye replied.

"Someone go fetch Dr. Cook immediately," Elizabeth ordered.

"No, it's just false labor again," Michaela whispered, shaking her head. "I've been getting them for weeks."

Elizabeth wheeled her chair all the closer and clutched her daughter's hand. "I'm sorry, Michaela. I know Sully can't help being away and I never meant to imply anything different."

Michaela looked at her tearfully. "I feel so helpless. I just wish I could saddle Flash and go find him myself. I should be out there. Mother, he needs me and all I can do is sit around and have contractions."

"Sully needs you to stay put. If he were here he would tell you to stay in bed. He wouldn't dream of letting you go out there," Elizabeth said firmly. "What, do you want another fiasco like when Katie was born? You want to deliver this child in the woods, too?"

She stopped rocking as the contraction eased. "No."

"Good. Then just trust the men to find him. They will," Elizabeth said.

"Here, have some water," Sarah said, handing her the glass.

Michaela reluctantly took a small sip.

"They'll find him, Dr. Mike," Grace spoke up. "If anybody can it's those menfolk."

"Enough talk. You gotta get off your feet," Faye said. "That's the longest trip to the outhouse I've ever seen. Come on, I'll take you upstairs and you can rest up there for awhile."

Another crack of lightening illuminated the bedroom, followed by a boom of thunder.

"This can't happen now," Michaela said, shaking her head as she leaned over her vanity. "This can't be labor."

"Oh, this ain't labor," Faye said reassuringly as she pressed her fists against Michaela's back. "You're not near unhappy enough."

"You can press harder," Michaela murmured.

"Oh, all right," Faye said, pushing her fists all the harder into Michaela's lower back. "How's this?"

She nodded and covered her face with her hands, breathing deeply.

Byron threw open the door and raced into the room, clutching his puppy. Tears streamed down his face.

Faye glanced at him. "Oh, pumpkin. Is the thunder scarin' ya?"

He nodded eagerly and ran to their sides. He wrinkled his brow. "Mama?"

"Shh, let Mama get through this one," Faye said. "Then she'll give you lots of hugs."

"Mama, what's wrong?" he murmured hoarsely.

"Nothing. She's just practicing for when the baby comes," Faye explained.

"Oh. Like baseball practice?"

Faye smiled. "Somethin' like that. Here, ya wanna help? Help me push on Mama's back. It makes it feel better."

He put his puppy on the vanity and got behind his mother, balling up his hands in fists and barreling them against her back. He grimaced with the effort.

"How's this, Mama?" he asked.

She managed a nod, clutching the edge of the vanity and squeezing it.

"Mama's workin' hard," Byron remarked, glancing up at Faye.

Faye smiled. "Yes, Mama's workin' hard."

"I love you, sweetheart," Michaela murmured.

"Love you, too, Mama," he replied sweetly.

Michaela suddenly let out her breath in a soft gasp and took a few restorative breaths. Then she turned around and drew Byron into her arms.

"You all right?" she whispered.

"Yeah. Why?"

She smoothed his hair. "I thought you were scared of the thunder."

"Oh. I forgot about that," he said with a soft smile.

Faye grinned and gave his hair a light tussle. "I'll put another pot of coffee on."

Michaela took a seat in the rocking chair and drew him close to her, rubbing his back. "That was a big help you rubbing my back like that. Thank you."

"Is the baby coming out?"

"Not yet. I'm trying to tell her to stay put in there, at least until her papa gets home. I hope she listens to me."

Byron paused a long moment, looking at her pensively. "Mama? What happened to Papa?"

She choked up, but did her best to keep her calm and not frighten Byron. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Is he coming back?" he whispered bravely.

"Your papa's going to do whatever he can to make it back to us just as soon as he possibly can. He won't be gone a moment longer than he has to."

Reassured, he stepped closer to her and hugged her.

"Here, sit on Mama's lap," she murmured, boosting him onto her legs. "We'll listen to the rain together."

Byron settled himself into her lap cozily and she took down the afghan from the back of the chair and covered him up.

"Go back to sleep," she soothed, pressing his head against her shoulder. "Mama's here."

Brian cupped his hands around his mouth. "Pa!" he shouted through the cold, pouring rain.

Matthew pulled back on the reins of the horse. "Hold up! I think we should quit for the night. Take cover."

"We can't quit, Matthew," Brian protested.

"We ain't quittin' for good, little brother. But we'll be a lot more useful to Sully if we hold off lookin' until the weather's a little better, the sun's up."

"Matthew's right. We'll do better in the morning," Kirk said.

"We'll leave at first light," Matthew said reassuringly.

"There's a rockface about half a mile from here," Robert E. said. "We could take shelter there."

"Let's go," Matthew said as he kicked his horse and led the way.

Faye and Grace had their heads down at the dining room table, and Sarah was in the other wingback chair, all of them sound asleep. Elizabeth finished cleaning up the kitchen a bit and then slowly wheeled her chair back into the main room. She was dismayed to see Michaela still wide awake in the armchair, staring at the door with glazed over eyes. Elizabeth glanced at the clock. It was nearly two in the morning.

"Please go back upstairs and go to bed, Michaela," Elizabeth said, wheeling her chair up to her.

"No, I'm waiting up for the search party," she protested.

"You need your rest!"

"I couldn't sleep a wink even if I tried, Mother."

Elizabeth raised her hand and placed it on the arm of the chair. "All right then. If you're going to wait up for him then so will I."

"Mother, you can't sit up here all night," she replied.

"If you can I can," she said resolutely. She gently grasped Michaela's hand and squeezed it.

Michaela squeezed back, grateful to have her there.

Sully staggered a few steps at a time down the dusty road, clutching his side and gasping as he tried to take shallow breaths. He had tried to flag down the handful of wagons that had passed him by during the night, but the drivers all ignored him, probably thinking him a beggar or hobo given his tattered, soiled clothes and disheveled appearance.

He wasn't even positive what road he was on. He had woken up in the middle of the woods, unaware of where he was or even what had happened. He kept walking east until he encountered a road, and then he headed south on it, hoping he would come across something familiar soon.

Suddenly he spotted two riders trotting toward him on the road. He raised his hand in desperation, hoping against hope they would stop.

One of them shielded his eyes. "It's Pa!" Brian suddenly shouted. "Pa!"

Sully let out his breath with relief. "Brian!" he called, clutching his side tighter and quickening his pace.

Matthew and Brian galloped toward him and quickly dismounted.

"Pa, you all right?" Brian asked.

"How's your ma?" he immediately asked. Michaela was all he could think about. His injuries weren't life-threatening and were the last thing on his mind at the moment.

Matthew took his canteen off his horse and uncorked it, handing it to him. "She's fine. Just ready to have you home."

Sully took a big drink and Brian examined the gashes on his face. "Looks like ya got beat up pretty bad."

Sully put his right arm around him reassuringly. "I'm all right. Let's get home."

Elizabeth turned a page in her book, glancing out the window. The first few rays of sunshine were pouring into the room. Still no sign of the search party, but she had confidence they would show up soon, if only to give everyone an update. Faye, Grace and Sarah were asleep, but she and Michaela had waited up all night for the men.

"The sun's come up at last," Elizabeth remarked absently.

When Michaela didn't reply Elizabeth glanced at her. She was asleep, her head bent slightly and one arm draped across her belly.

Elizabeth sighed with relief. It had been a long night and she really wished Michaela had agreed to go up to her bedroom and rest there. But this was better than nothing. Elizabeth found an afghan draped on the other chair. She wheeled toward it and grabbed it, then spread it across Michaela's lap.

Moments later Elizabeth heard horses whinnying outside the homestead. Michaela immediately awoke and quickly regained her bearings, blinking her eyes and glancing toward the door.

"Are they back?" she asked hoarsely.

Elizabeth looked toward the door expectantly. It seemed like forever before Brian and Robert E. finally opened the door. Kirk and Matthew were right behind him, Sully leaning on their shoulders. He gingerly stepped into the room.

"Sully!" Michaela cried, relief immediately washing over her. She wriggled her way out of the chair, placing the afghan aside, and walked to him, caressing his face. "Are you all right? Are you all right? What happened?"

He nodded, a little bewildered. "I'm all right. I'm sorry."

Faye, Grace and Sarah woke up quickly and joined everyone in the front room.

"We think he busted up some ribs, Ma. Hurt his head, too," Brian explained.

"Lay him on the table," Michaela instructed, quickly putting the vase and doily on the cabinet nearby.

Matthew and Kirk helped him lie back and Michaela grabbed her medical bag and opened it.

"Faye, could you bring some water? And some clean cloths?" she asked.

Faye rushed off to the kitchen to get a basin and fill it from the pump.

"Where does it hurt?" Michaela asked.

He slowly raised his hand and touched his left side just below his breast. Michaela unbuttoned his shirt and tenderly probed her fingers along his side, feeling carefully. Then she took out her stethoscope and listened to the area.

"Are you having difficulty breathing?" she asked.

"No," he murmured.

She felt his pulse, then put her stethoscope back in her bag. "I'm not detecting a pneumothorax. Fortunately I don't think the broken ribs did any damage to your lungs."

She turned her attention to his head wounds. There was a large bruise across one cheek and an even nastier gash at his hairline covered in dried blood and dust. Faye brought the water and cloths.

"What happened?" Michaela asked, dipping a cloth into the water and tenderly washing away the blood.

He sighed. "I don't know. I can't remember anything. I was ridin' toward Pueblo, caught up with Mr. Sexton, next thing I know I woke up lying in the woods, a hundred feet away from the road. My horse was gone and nobody was around."

"Do you know how long you were unconscious?"

"I ain't sure."

"When did you wake up?" she asked patiently. "Yesterday?"

"No, the day before. Around sundown. It was rainin' too hard to go anywhere so I just took shelter. When it stopped I found the road and tried to walk south, but it was hard to move very fast."

"How do you feel now? Any nausea? Ringing in the ears?" She pulled back one eyelid and examined his pupils with her handheld ophthalmoscope.

"No. My head's just a little sore is all. It ain't too bad."

She examined his other pupil and then straightened. "Well, it sounds like you suffered a concussion, but there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage. The cut's not that deep. I'll clean it for you, then bandage your ribs."

"I'm gonna go wire the marshal in Denver," Matthew spoke up. "Get a warrant for the arrest of those men."

"You think it was them?" Michaela asked quietly.

"Had to be," Matthew said, gently squeezing her arm and then heading outside.

"Here, I'll clean him up, Dr. Mike," Faye offered, grabbing a fresh cloth. "You take care of his ribs."

Michaela nodded and clutched his shoulder. "Can you sit up? Slowly."

He carefully raised himself up and rested his feet on a chair.

"Brian, help him off with his shirt," Michaela instructed as she reached into her bag again.

Brian slid his dusty and damp shirt off his right arm and Michaela unraveled some clean white bandages from her bag and took out a pair of scissors.

"You doin' all right yourself?" Sully asked, eyeing her worriedly.

She paused, gazing into his eyes tenderly. "I'm fine now that you're home. I'm so glad you're all right."

He reached his right hand up and cupped her cheek for a moment, then cringed slightly as Brian carefully slipped the shirt off his other arm.

"I'll dress your ribs and get you some morphine for the pain," Michaela explained, cutting off a length of bandage. "Then you're going to rest in bed."

"Both of us better get some rest," he added with a soft smile.

Sully lay against the pillows and took Michaela's hand in his, firmly massaging her palm with his thumbs. At last confident that he was safe and sound at home, she had taken a long nap beside him, making up for some of the sleep she had lost over the past few days. He was able to get a little sleep himself despite his discomfort. When she finally woke up, all her focus was on him. She gave him some more morphine to ease his aching broken ribs, one of the most painful fractures one could endure, then she examined his pupils again and cleaned his head wounds.

Sully on the other hand seemed to care less about his injuries. He kept asking her if she felt all right, if her back was bothering her, if she was getting any more contractions. She answered him briefly and quietly, apparently a lot more upset about the whole ordeal than she had initially let on.

At last he drew her close to him and kissed her head reassuringly. "Michaela, I been thinkin'. It don't matter anymore. All that matters is those men are on their way and away from ya. They can have the wheels."

She glanced at him a moment, then rested her head gently against his shoulder.

"I know ya had your heart set on that hat in Loren's store from New York. I'll get it for ya. It's just gonna take longer than I planned on."

"Sully, I don't care about some hat."

"Then what is it?"

She bit her lip tearfully. "I owe you an apology. I know how you felt about all this and yet I forced you into it anyway."

"Ya didn't force me," he protested.

"But you took that job for me."

"Michaela, that's what marriage is about. Listenin' to what your partner thinks and compromisin'. You were just tryin' to help me find some work. Ya ain't to blame."

"Sully, you could have been killed."

"You thought it was somethin' I could learn to like and so did I. So it didn't turn out the way we expected. But that's not somethin' either of us could have known was gonna happen." He kissed her head. "If anybody should apologize it's me. Can't imagine how worried ya musta been when I didn't show up when I said I would."

She squeezed his hand. "I was. But I just had to believe you'd make it home as soon as you could."

"What with everything that's been happenin' with this baby, I never wanna leave ya for very long," he said, slowly turning toward her and gazing at her lovingly. "I just wanna be here for ya as much as I can."

"Oh, Sully. You have been. You've been here for me for nearly all of it. Thank you."

"And I'm gonna keep bein' here," he replied, caressing her belly and giving her a kiss. He quickly looked down. "Must be listenin' to us. I just felt him kick."

She grinned. "Perhaps I am having a boy. The way it kicks me sometimes I wonder."

"Boy or girl sounds to me like they're gonna be a good edition to our baseball team," he said wryly. "That's a strong baby we got in there. Gonna be good at runnin' bases."

She snuggled against him, relishing the feel of his large, warm hand pressed up against her belly and their new child who kept kicking her reassuringly.

Byron ran inside ahead of the other children, dumped his books and lunch pail on the table and hurried over to Elizabeth sitting in one of the chairs, hugging her tightly.

Elizabeth beamed and rubbed his back, thrilled to see him finally happy after a day at school. "How was your day?" she asked.

"Really good!" he replied. "We're reading a new chapter about this country Africa. They have lots of elephants."

"Africa's a continent, dear," Elizabeth corrected gently. "Made up of lots of countries and colonies."

"Really? I want to start my homework right now. Can you help, Gran'ma?"

"Of course. Go get your assignments and bring them here."

Katie and Red Eagle filed in and Sully stepped inside gingerly and shut the door.

"How was the drive?" Elizabeth asked worriedly. "Are your ribs feeling sore?"

"Not too bad," he said. "I just don't get around as fast as I'd like to."

"Papa's slow like a snail," Red Eagle remarked with a giggle.

Sully tousled his hair. "Go get yourselves a glass of milk in the kitchen."

Red Eagle and Katie raced off and Sully stepped closer to Elizabeth.

"Michaela doin' all right?" he asked.

"Still upstairs resting as far as I know," she replied as Byron returned to her side with his schoolbooks and spectacles case. He took out his spectacles and slid them on and opened a book.

"Son, who got ya new spectacles?" Sully asked, stepping toward him. "Mama get ya those while I was gone?"

He glanced up. "Gran'ma did. She took me to Dr. Cook's."

Sully eyed Elizabeth disapprovingly and folded his arms.

"Stop giving me that look," Elizabeth scolded. "He needed spectacles and you weren't around to consult."

"Ya sayin' ya paid for those?"

"You'll pay me back," she replied dismissively, smoothing Byron's hair. "Go ahead, dear. Start reading."

"Elephants can live up to seventy years," Byron began, tapping his fingers to the words.

Sully glared at Elizabeth a moment longer and then heaved a sigh, heading upstairs impatiently.

Sully opened the bedroom door and stepped into the room angrily. "What's this about your ma buyin' his spectacles?" he demanded.

Michaela was sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs stretched out over the side. She glanced up a little helplessly and then looked down at her legs, bending one knee uncomfortably and cupping her hand around her calf.

"What's wrong? Ya havin' a contraction?"

"No, it's just some sort of muscle twitching, some cramping in my legs. Probably from being on bed rest so long, not getting proper exercise."

"Tell me what to do," he said, touching her shoulder.

"Magnesium sulfate. In my medical bag," she said.

He walked across the room and grabbed her medical bag, opening it on his way back to the bed. He sat beside her and found a bottle of white powder labeled magnesium.

"Mix a little of it with some water," she instructed, cringing slightly.

"All right, hang on," he said, grabbing the glass of water next to the bed and opening the cork of the bottle. He held the glass and she took the magnesium from him and tapped some of the powder in the glass.

"Ya want somethin' to stir it with?" he asked.

She shook her head and quickly gulped down the bitter medicine.

"Here, why don't ya lie down?" he said. "I'll help ya stretch your legs." He guided her back against the pillows and lifted her legs onto the bed, then sat beside her and took her right leg carefully in his hands, raising it off the bed and helping her stretch it out fully. Then he grasped her foot and flexed it back, as he had seen her do many times when she helped Elizabeth exercise her legs.

She whimpered a little and held onto his shirt.

"This hurt?" he asked, gazing at her worriedly.

"No. Do that. It feels better."

"Here, let's get the other one, too. That hurts too, right?"

She nodded as he grasped her left leg and stretched it in the same way.

"The muscles were just twitching so much," she explained. "It was so uncomfortable."

"Feelin' better?"

"Yes, a lot better."

He stroked her thigh soothingly. He couldn't be mad at her now. The spectacles suddenly seemed like a minor point. All he cared about was that she wasn't in pain anymore.

"I'm sorry about his spectacles," she murmured, looking up at him guiltily.

He sighed and continued gently rubbing her thigh. "It's all right."

She bit her lip. "It's just, he came home from school sobbing, and I thought we could pay for it ourselves but I had forgotten you had just made a payment on our account at the store. The next thing I knew Mother was insisting she pay for it."

"It ain't that I don't want him to be able to see good at school," he replied. "Just wish we coulda taken care of that ourselves."

"We'll pay her back, Sully. Just as soon as we possibly can."

He nodded reluctantly, squeezing and massaging her calf muscles thoroughly with his fingers.

Byron bit his lip and studied his drawing of the homestead. He was sitting in Michaela's lap in the wingback chair, his easel set up in front of him and his charcoal pencils laid out on the table beside them. Michaela occasionally gave him some pointers and he even let her draw in some flowerboxes under the windows.

"I know what it needs. Smoke out of the chimney," he said, drawing some circular puffs of smoke on his paper. He sniffled and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

"Byron, don't touch your face," she scolded with a chuckle. "You're getting charcoal all over yourself." She took out her handkerchief and dabbed at his nose.

He shifted around to look at her. "Mama, do you know any other boys who like to draw?"

"Why, yes, I did know a boy once who liked to draw. He was quite good at it actually."

"Was he girlie?"

She raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean? Did someone call you that?"

He shrugged. "Herman."

"I see."

He studied his drawing pensively. "He said only sissy boys like art."

"You know some of the greatest artists we've ever had have been boys." She squeezed his shoulder. "When Mama wanted to be a doctor everyone teased me and called me a boy. But I'm not a boy, am I?"

He giggled. "No."

"And you're certainly not a girl. Just because you're artistic does not make you a sissy. I want you and your brother and sister to pursue what you're most passionate about, even if it's something other people think isn't appropriate for your gender." She kissed his head. "Don't listen so much to what other people think, sweetheart. Listen to what Byron thinks."

He smiled and went back to his drawing as Sully came down the staircase and headed toward them.

"Gettin' late," he called. "Everybody else is in bed."

"All right, time for bed," Michaela said, patting the little boy's back.

"Wait, just let me get this one more thing," he said, studying the drawing.

"Time for bed. Ya can finish up in the mornin'," Sully said. "Say goodnight to your ma."

Byron reluctantly put his pencil down and turned around, hugging Michaela. "Night-night, Mama. Love you."

"Oh, I love you. Night-night." She helped him to his feet.

He patted her belly tenderly. "Night-night, baby sister. I love you." He gave her belly a sweet kiss.

Michaela smiled proudly and caressed his hair.

"Baby sister," Sully repeated skeptically. "Who told ya Mama's havin' a baby sister?"

He looked up at him innocently. "What, Papa? Gran'ma did."

"What makes you so sure she's right?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Gran'ma's always right."

"Gran'ma always right, huh?" He tickled his chest and Byron screeched. "Off to bed with ya," he said, patting his bottom as he scurried off.

"Wash your hands and face good before bed. I don't want charcoal all over my sheets," Michaela called.

"Yes, ma'am!" he replied, dashing up the stairs.

She chuckled. "Goodnight."

Sully sat on the arm of the chair. "Good drawin'. Ya help him with that?"

"A little. He did most of it himself."

He put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder.

"Sully, I don't baby him, do I?"

"Who? Byron?"

"Apparently Herman called him a sissy."

"Sounds to me like Herman was tryin' to give everybody who crossed his path a hard time." He scratched his chin. "I guess ya baby him sometimes. Wipin' his nose for him, combin' his hair. I think sometimes ya forget he's growin' up."

"He's still a little boy. He still needs me. I wouldn't call that babying."

"Michaela, ya asked me what I thought."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just…he's so enthusiastic about things like art and music. I'm thrilled he has an interest in that, it's just sometimes I worry his classmates aren't going to feel the same. And especially with his asthma, I don't want the other boys seeing him as different."

"School was tough on you and me both when we were his age. But we made it through."

"I suppose."

"Ya know this baseball league, he's got a real talent for hurlin'. I think it's helped him make friends with some of the other kids his age. Been real good for him."

She smiled. "Yes, I think it has."

He glanced at her belly lovingly. "Pretty soon you're gonna have a new one ya can baby all ya want. Ya won't need to baby Byron so much."

She grinned wryly. "How are your ribs?" she asked, carefully touching his chest with concern. "Sore?"

"Not too bad. Might need a little more morphine 'fore we go to bed."

"Certainly. Let's go up and get you some right now."

He helped her to her feet and then she suddenly paused, gazing into his eyes lovingly.

"What?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing. I'm just so glad you're home," she whispered.

He smiled, putting his arm around her, and they headed toward the stairs.

Katie opened the front door and carried a basket of eggs inside, then shut the door with her foot.

"Almost a dozen today, Papa," she said with a sweet smile, walking into the kitchen where Sully was just building up the fire in the stove.

Sully peeked into the basket. "Good. They look good." He smoothed her hair. "I tell ya how much your pa appreciates all your help with the chores and other things? What with your ma in bed I know things ain't been easy."

"I like helping," she replied, hugging his arm with both of hers.

He kissed her head and then returned his attention to the stove.

Meanwhile Katie took a seat on the bench and examined the toe of her boot. Her toes were pressed up tight against the end and had even created one small little bulge where her big toe was. She unlaced her shoe and discreetly rubbed her foot.

Sully laid another log in the stove. "What's wrong with your foot?"

"My foot?"

"Ya got your shoe off."

She looked up at him hesitantly. "My toes hurt."

"Why's that?"

"I think my feet just must be growin' real fast. My toes are a little pinched."

He closed the damper and then walked to her side, squatting down and feeling the end of the shoe still on her foot.

"Kates, you're clear to the end of your boots. Why didn't ya say somethin'? Papa needs to get ya some new ones.""

She shrugged. "You've been really busy taking care of Mama. I thought maybe you don't have time."

He caressed her cheek. "Listen, there's anything ya ever need, I want ya to tell me. Bed rest or not, that don't mean your ma and me stop takin' care of you and your brothers."

She nodded and smiled softly.

"We'll get ya a bigger pair of shoes just as soon as we can, all right? Think ya can stand to have your toes pinched just a little longer?"

She hugged him tightly. "Uh-huh. Thanks, Papa."

Sully lifted Byron onto his shoulders as they walked toward Robert E.'s. Katie was clutching some letters they had received at the post office and Red Eagle was dragging a stick in the dust.

"Hey, Robert E.!" Byron called as they approached.

"Afternoon," he replied as he pumped the bellows, trying to heat up his fire to a higher temperature.

"Look at the new mare!" Byron cried, pointing excitedly at the mustang in the corral. It had a beautiful, shiny light brown coat and its mane was so blond it was almost white.

"Look again, son," Sully said with a chuckle. "That's no mare."

Byron cocked his head to the side. "Oh! Stallion!" He covered his mouth with a giggle.

Robert E. stepped toward them. "Just bought him the other day. He's a year old."

"He broke yet?" Sully asked.

"I'm workin' on him. He's gettin' there."

"Can we pet him, Robert E.?" Byron asked. "Please?"

"Go ahead. He's pretty gentle long as he doesn't have a saddle on."

"Take it easy with him. Let him sniff ya first," Sully said, lifting Byron off his shoulders and setting him on the ground.

The children tentatively approached the horse and held out their hands. The horse whinnied quietly, took a whiff of their outstretched palms and then decided they were acceptable. He lowered his head and allowed them to stroke his muzzle.

Sully rested his hand up on the corral. "Robert E., ya hear of anybody needs some work done around town?"

"Kirk was by here the other day, askin' me the same thing," he said. "Sorry, Sully. I haven't."

Sully glanced around. There were a few horseshoes on the anvil waiting to be repaired, but other than that the livery didn't seem all that busy. "Ya got any extra work I could do for you?"

He added some coals to his fire. "Not right now. Maybe next month? I got a big order comin' up in about three weeks."

He nodded, swallowing. "Next month. Yeah, sure."

Robert E. turned to face him. "I'm sorry, Sully. I'll let you know just as soon as anything comes up."

"I appreciate that." He glanced at the children. "Come on, kids. We gotta go get Katie her new shoes. Let's go."

"Papa, can we stay here and pet the horse?" Red Eagle asked.

"No, ya come with me to the store. Robert E.'s tryin' to do some work."

"The boys can stay, Sully. It's fine," Robert E. said with a smile. "I'll keep an' eye on 'em."

Sully folded his arms. "All right. Ya wait here for us. But be gentle with that horse and do what Robert E. tells ya."

"We will," Byron said, laughing as the horse snorted forcefully and shook its head.

Sully folded his arms and looked over Loren's advertisement board in the back of the store. The postings mostly were from men who wanted to sell tools or machinery or even land. It seemed everyone was trying to find a way to scrape together some extra dollars. He finally spotted a small printed piece of paper that said "Help Wanted. Fort Morgan, Colorado." He read the rest of it quickly, swallowing hard.

"How are these, Katie?" Loren asked as he laced up her right boot. She was sitting atop his counter, watching him work.

Sully turned his attention back to his little girl and walked over to the counter.

"Your feet pinched?" Sully asked, pressing his thumb to the toe of her boots. He felt a good half inch of room to grow.

She swung her legs experimentally. "No, Papa. Just wish they had some purple on them."

"Purple?" Sully blurted.

"Purple! Who's ever heard of purple boots?" Loren protested.

"Mama would understand," the little girl replied.

Sully smiled and lifted her down from the counter.

"Womenfolk! Purple!" Loren muttered. "Well, take a stroll in the boots. See how they feel."

Katie walked energetically across the store and then skipped a bit.

"So, how do you like doin' all the shopping?" Loren asked, nudging Sully's arm playfully.

Sully eyed him irritably and dug into his pocket, pulling out a few bills and some change. "How much those come to?"

He walked behind his counter. "Three dollars, eighty cents."

He glanced up skeptically. "Thought I remember her last pair was three dollars, fifty cents."

"It's a bigger pair of boots. They go up in price the bigger they get."

Sully counted out his money. He only had three dollars and sixty cents. He was embarrassed to ask Loren to put just twenty cents on their account, but he had no choice.

"I'm a little short. Ya put the rest on-"

"On your account. Sure, sure," Loren grumbled, pulling out his ledger and dropping it on his counter impatiently.

"These wheels I was workin' on, it fell through," Sully explained. "But don't worry, I'm gonna work out somethin' else just as soon as I can."

Loren quickly flipped to their page. "Your word's your bond. I know."

"Loren, she's gotta have shoes."

"I know she does." He scratched down the amount in the ledger with his pencil.

Katie joined them at the counter and clutched Sully's hand. "What's wrong, Papa?" she whispered, taking note of his stern brow.

Sully smoothed her hair, trying to soften his expression. "Nothin', sweet girl. Ya like your shoes?"

She nodded eagerly, resting her head against his side.

"Well, what are you waitin' for? Go get yourself some candy," Loren instructed, giving her a soft smile and pointing at the jars. "Get some for your brothers, too. Go on."

Katie beamed and rushed off to the candy jars.

"Thanks, Loren," Sully murmured.

"Kids are in bed," Sully said as he walked into the bedroom. He quietly shut the door. Michaela was asleep in the rocking chair in front of the fire, clutching her knitting needles, a skein of yarn and a pair of pale pink booties she was nearly finished with. She looked so exhausted, and he felt so sorry for her cooped up inside all day missing out on so many things. He didn't have the heart to wake her up and make her go to bed. Besides, it was so hard for her to fall asleep in the first place these days he thought he might as well just let her sleep there as long as she could.

He carefully removed the knitting from her hands and put it in her knitting bag at her feet, then strolled to the bed and quietly slipped off his boots, socks and shirt. He gazed into the flames of the fire pensively. After awhile he rose to his feet and paced slowly in front of the fireplace, consumed with his thoughts.

"Mm, I must have dozed off," Michaela spoke up suddenly.

He turned around to face her and gave her a small smile. "Ya oughta get in bed."

She stroked her belly. "I think the baby's asleep. I'm afraid to move and wake her."

"Oh," he murmured. He turned back around and clutched the mantle, looking down.

"Sully? Is something the matter?" she asked.

"Loren's gettin' impatient about our credit," he admitted. "We owe him almost forty-five dollars now."

"Oh," she murmured.

He took out the poker and stirred the logs.

"I never should have ordered that new dress for Brian's wedding," she spoke up. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't be sorry. That was my idea. We thought we had fifty dollars comin' our way." He grabbed a log and dropped it onto the flames. "I didn't have enough money for Katie's shoes today. I had to ask Loren to put the difference on our account."

She swallowed. "Well, that's all right."

"We still ain't paid off the last pair we bought her nine months ago, Michaela," he whispered. "And now you got us owin' your ma too for those spectacles."

She rocked the chair gently with her feet. "I'll try to get back to the clinic just as soon after the birth as I can. As long as I don't need an operation I could probably go back a day or two afterward. I'll bring the baby with me. I'll just have to stop what I'm doing when she needs to nurse."

He spun around. "Hey, I don't want ya doin' that. I want ya to rest up, get a chance to spend some time with the baby before ya head back to work."

"What are we going to do, Sully?"

He rested the poker against the stones. "I been thinkin', maybe I'm gonna have to take some work out of town for awhile. Saw an ad in Loren's store today, lookin' for some men to dig some irrigation ditches out toward Fort Morgan next week. Looks like the pay's decent."

It frightened her to think of him leaving, especially with her on bed rest and the baby so close, but she struggled to be brave. He was right, they badly needed the money. "Far," she whispered.

He caressed her cheek. "Michaela, this is the last thing I wanna do, you know that."

"I know," she said hoarsely.

"You'd be in good hands. I'll ask Dorothy and Faye to come check in on ya, help out your ma. Brian's always around. And Andrew's close by if anything happens."

She nodded. "I just don't want you to miss anything."

"Me neither. But I'd be as quick as I can and get back to ya just as soon as possible." He held her hand. "I don't wanna leave ya for a second these days. I'd worry about ya the whole time. Wish there was another way."

"It's all right, Sully. We didn't know I was going to be on bed rest. We didn't know I wasn't going to be able to work for this long."

"I just need to take care of our family," he murmured, swallowing hard and caressing her belly. "I gotta work and take care of my family."

"I understand," she said a bit tearfully, drawing him into a tight hug and caressing his hair.