- Part 18
Sully squatted by the fire, poking the embers into oblivion. He was physically and emotionally drained. Discovering the damage to Preston's homestead, his anger with Preston, reliving his memories both in the woods this morning and here tonight had exhausted his personal resources. And there was still another problem to consider. Should he or shouldn't he tell Michaela about the damage? Deep in his heart he knew he should but he wasn't sure if he could. His reticence with Michaela puzzled even him and he knew it hurt her at times. They had a closeness that was at the same time wonderful and frightening. Each knew when the other was hurting, was in trouble or in pain. They could tell each other anything, talk about anything. Even when Michaela's initial reaction to something he said was negative, they had always managed to work things out. Things were always better when they talked about them. He'd even as much as said that to Brian once - that it's the things you don't say that hurt more than the things you do say. Yet time and again he found himself unable to muster the words to tell his wife a difficult thing.

When they'd been trying to make a baby and then he'd remembered the pain of losing Abigail and Hannah, he'd had a hard time voicing his anguish. When he'd wanted to take the Yellowstone job, it never seemed to be the right time to bring it up. When he'd gone to see Cloud Dancing after he'd been beaten and had ultimately decided to help the Indians escape, he just couldn't bring her into it. Tonight he hadn't really wanted to talk about his past with Daniel. He knew he hadn't done a very good job of explaining their relationship. Michaela probably thought now that they weren't friends at all and that just wasn't so. He and Daniel had chosen different paths, but they still had a history together. Daniel had been a friend to him in the best way he knew how. He had twice helped to save their homestead from Preston. Sully knew Daniel's contribution a year and a half ago to the town's Christmas gift was just that - a gift - but he felt indebted nonetheless. The Cheyenne taught that you return a gift for a gift. Another problem to weigh on his mind.

He tried to imagine how he would tell Michaela about the damage, how worried, upset and angry she would be. He hated adding to her burden. He thought about not telling, how much worse it would be if she found out from someone else. Still, no one in town had seemed aware of what had happened - Preston had not mentioned it to anybody. Truth to be told, he just couldn't find the strength in himself to bring it up tonight. He was just so tired ... Maybe in the morning the time would be right. The fire was out, the downstairs was tidy - Sully blew out the lamps and headed up to bed.

Michaela tucked the covers more snugly around Katie and kissed her soft, chubby cheek. Katie sighed and hugged her bunny tight. Poor bunny had become quite bedraggled in three years. Michaela tiptoed from Katie's room into Colleen's where Sully had moved Gordon's crib earlier that evening. The baby was sleeping peacefully, making little sucking noises with his mouth. He had been sleeping well lately and Michaela decided not to wake him to nurse.

Back in their bedroom, Michaela began her night time ritual. She smiled to herself remembering tonight's conversation by the fire. She loved it when Sully opened up to her, gave her another glimpse into his mysterious past. It made her feel so much closer to him. She understood a little better now her husband's relationship with Daniel, a complicated one at best. She had been thinking of their bond in terms of her own childhood friendships or even those of her school days, such as Miriam Tilson. She had assumed that Daniel and Sully were very much alike. She guessed she should have seen how different they were when he was visiting ...

She finished undressing and washing, then reached for her nightgown. With a sudden smile, she rejected the plain flannel shift she'd been wearing these cool spring nights and reached far back into the wardrobe for the filmy, lacy, "too pretty to wear" garment Sully had given her for their fourth anniversary last month. She slipped into it, luxuriating in the feel of the soft fabric.

She glanced toward the bedroom door, listening for Sully's quiet tread on the stairs, but she heard nothing. Hairbrush in hand, she sat at the dressing table trying to decide whether to brush her own hair or to wait for her husband to perform that task. Shrugging, she began drawing the brush through her locks. Sully had seemed tired tonight and even a little preoccupied. The sooner he came to bed the sooner they could relax and she knew just the way to take his mind off his troubles. Smiling, she hummed a little tune in time with the brush strokes.

When Sully finally came upstairs, Michaela was propped up in bed, reading a medical journal. He gave her a wan smile as he came in and closed the door. " 'd ya like a fire tonight?" he asked.

"Don't bother, Sully. It's nice and warm in here," Michaela patted the bed beside her and smiled invitingly. Sully just nodded and proceeded to get ready for bed. Soon he crawled beneath the covers beside Michaela. "You're wearing a nightshirt!" she exclaimed, surprised. This was a rare occurrence for Sully. It had taken her some time, early in their marriage, to get accustomed to the fact that he rarely wore a nightshirt, or anything else for that matter, to bed. Even so he was always throwing off the covers, even on the coldest nights. "Did you want to make a fire?"

Sully shrugged. "Not especially. Just felt like wearin' it is all".

Michaela smiled again. "Well, I guess I can still give you that backrub I had planned". Moving closer she said seductively, "It can always come off if it gets in the way!" Then she reddened slightly. Sometimes she surprised herself with how bold she had become in four years of marriage. Sully lay on his stomach and she began kneading the muscles of his shoulders. "You seem very tense" she remarked. "You must be working too hard. The doctor recommends a day off very soon. A picnic in the woods with your wife should be just the remedy". Sully was silent so Michaela peeked over his shoulders to look at his face which was turned away from her. His eyes were closed. "Asleep already?" she asked, with a trace of disappointment.

"No".

"Good" Michaela worked her way down Sully's back, massaging with her fingers, adding her own special wifely fillip that rarely failed to produce results. "How'd things go at Preston's today?" she asked conversationally. "We never got to talk about your day".

Sully stiffened slightly, then forced himself to relax. His body would communicate to Michaela just as surely as words would. Still, she had given him the perfect opening. He could tell her. It would be a relief, really, to share with someone, someone who cared. He opened his mouth but the words would not come. What he said was, "All right. Things're goin' a lot slower 'n I expected, though. Prob'ly won't have a lotta time for picnics an' stuff 'til this is all over".

Michaela stopped massaging for a moment. Usually Sully was the one cajoling her to take time off for them to be together. Oh well, this wasn't the first time since the trial that their roles had been reversed in this manner. She lay across his back, her head next to his and kissed his ear. "Maybe just a quick lunch, then? I could get something at Grace's, bring it out there and we could ..."

Sully rolled over on his back so he could face her. "No, I don't want ya comin' out there!"

"Sully?!"

"I mean ... that's a lotta trouble for you and there's nowhere ta sit really ..."

"We've had picnics on the ground before!"

"I ... I'll come in. We c'n meet at Grace's. That way I c'n wash up first, be more presentable. Maybe tomorrow, day after?"

Michaela smiled. "The day after tomorrow would be wonderful". She leaned down to kiss his lips, then lifted her head to look into his eyes. "Aren't you hot?" She began fiddling with the strings of his nightshirt, beginning to untie them.

Sully took hold of her hands to stay them, then quickly brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them.

She looked at him for a sign of some kind, but he just smiled slightly, then yawned elaborately, turning on his side so he faced her. She scootched down under the covers and he pulled her close, her back to him so they nested like spoons. "Good night" she said, with almost a question in her voice.

"Good night" he said with finality.

Both sighed but neither spoke again

- Part 19
Trevor wandered aimlessly through the woods, occasionally kicking at a stone or a bit of brush. Preston had left suddenly for Denver so he was on his own again. He'd only been in Colorado Springs for a week, but he was getting used to that state of affairs. The summers of his life had been spent either with nannies more interested in gossiping with their counterparts in the park than in entertaining him, or with a variety of uncles too busy to give him a thought. He had thought Uncle Preston might be different, but when he asked about accompanying him to Denver, he got the same old boring speech about how a Lodge learns to stand on his own, to be independent, to make his own entertainment. It all boiled down to the fact that Uncle Preston didn't want him around, either, any more than did his Uncles Marshall, Walter or William, or even his own father. It was all right with Trevor. He had seen boys at home who were close to their families. they were sissies, all of them, Mama's boys. Even the boys he'd met here - Sam and Brian. Brian was worried about people who weren't even his blood kin, for goodness sakes. He snickered when he thought about the things Uncle Preston had told him about that Sully - kissing and cuddling his kids? Taking them fishing and hunting? Ridiculous. Probably just because he didn't have anything better to do.

He hadn't really been paying attention to where he was going or what time it was. He realised he'd been walking for a long time. The sun had set and he was just thinking about finding his way back to the Chateau when he heard voices. He ducked behind a tree then peered around it. It was Brian and a man several years older. He realised it was the sheriff.

Then he remembered that he was Brian's brother. He followed at a distance until they broke out of the woods into a clearing where a new-looking house stood. They were entering the house together. Brian must be staying with his brother. Perfect ...

Brian was just starting to get ready for bed when he heard a noise outside his window. "Psst. Hey, pssst ... Brian?" This was followed by a tapping sound. Curious, Brian hurried over to the window and looked out. Trevor was standing outside with a long stick. He was just reaching out to hit Brian's window again. Quickly Brian raised the window and leaned out.

"Shhh" he hissed. Then, "What are you doing out there? Did Matthew hear you?"

"I don't think so. Come on out!"

Brian turned to look behind him then leaned out again. "What do you want?"

"I want you to come out!" Trevor insisted. Then he began to chant in a louder voice, "Come out, Brian, come out, come out - come..."

"Shut up!" Brian cried in a panicked whisper. "I'll be right there!" He eased back into the room, went over and locked his bedroom door, then for good measure he stuffed an extra blanket under his covers in case Matthew should gain access to the room and peek in. he shouldn't have to worry. Matthew pretty much left him alone after they went to bed. He blew out the lamp then went back over to the window and cautiously climbed out. Trevor stood by the window and helped Brian down. Brian put his finger to his lips and beckoned Trevor away from the house. He led him around to the far side of the barn before he spoke. "What do you want?"

"Let's go to the cave!" Trevor raised his eyebrows and produced a flask, presumably full of whiskey, from under his jacket.

"I ... I dunno. I better not".

Trevor looked as if he were about to say something, then changed his mind. "Let's talk here, then" he said instead, sitting down and leaning against the side of the barn. "Where were you this morning? I didn't see you in town so I looked at the cave and the fishing pond but you weren't there, either".

Brian eased down next to Trevor. "How'd you do all that runnin' around? You don't have a horse".

"I move fast," Trevor smirked. "But you didn't answer my question. Where were you this morning?"

"I was at the homestead. Ma and Sully had stuff t' do in town so I was lookin' after Katie while I did my chores."

Trevor's lip curled. "You mean they've got you taking care of babies now? I wouldn't put up with that for a minute!" He pulled out his cigarette box, offering it to Brian before taking one for himself. Brian declined and Trevor lit his cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke.

"I was just helpin' out!" Brian defended himself.

"Why wasn't your step-mother home taking care of the house and the kid?"

"She's not my step-mother, she's just ma" Brian said crossly.

"Not your real 'ma' " Trevor pointed out.

"Real enough. Ma and Sully adopted me".

"I know, I know, so you told me. So why are you still Brian Cooper?"

"I dunno. I ... I sometimes write to my real pa in San Francisco. I ... I guess I didn't wanna upset him by changin' my name. I can't live with him but in a way we're still connected". Brian found it hard to articulate his complex feelings regarding Ethan Cooper.

"He ever write back to you?"

"Nah. He can't write. Couple years ago he got someone to write me a letter for him an' he sent a picture but mostly I just write him. I don't mind" His tone belied his words.

"You know, your family is really weird" Trevor stated.

"What do you mean?" Brian said defensively.

"Well, look at you! Your name is Cooper, your 'pa' is called Sully which is his last name but he uses it as his first name, and you mother still goes by the name she had before she was married and she's a doctor - which brings me back to my original question - since she's married and has two little kids besides you, why doesn't she stay home and look after them and your house like a normal woman? Doesn't Sully care that she's off being a doctor all the time instead of taking care of him and his family?"

"He's proud of Ma. We all are. Sully don't mind helpin' out at home. He likes takin' care of Katie and Gordon, spendin' time with them an' sometimes he even cooks for us so Ma can have a rest!"

Trevor snorted. "Like I said, weird! My father would never put up with that kind of thing from my mother. When I was little she used to make up stories to tell me at bedtime. They were pretty good stories," he allowed. "But then when I got older and went away to school with my brothers she started writing some of them down, and some new stories too. She wanted to send them off, to try to get them published. My father soon put a stop to that. He found out she'd been reading stuff by some women who thought they should be able to vote and stuff".

"Elizabeth Cady Stanton? Lucrecia Mott?" Brian guessed.

"Yeah, I think they were a couple of them. How'd you know?"

Brian grinned. "My Aunt Marjorie, Ma's oldest sister, believes like they do. She's always quotin' them, an' some others, too. How'd your pa make your ma stop?"

Trevor shrugged. "He burned her stories and the books and articles she'd been reading. He forbade her to read anything like that again and he told her he didn't want any wife of his writing stories for magazines and newspapers".

"She did what he said?" Brian asked incredulously.

"Of course. She's his wife, isn't she?"

Brian shook his head but didn't comment. He was coming to understand just how uncommon his family really was. He thought about how Sully supported and encouraged Ma in her doctoring and helped out at home and at the clinic to make her job easier. He had even ended up supporting her in a bid for mayor once, back when they were courting. Then he thought about his own ma, Charlotte, about how hard she had worked and how little Ethan had helped her. He was only little at the time but he remembered her talking about the move to Colorado Springs before he was born. She hadn't wanted to leave their little farm in Kansas. Matthew had told him she'd cried when she thought he and Colleen didn't know. Then Ethan had taken all their money and just left. He remembered something from the custody hearing when Ma and Sully were fighting Ethan over who would get to keep him and Colleen. His Pa had said something about how he had just done what all men do and gone on ahead. Problem was, he had never come back for them or sent for them.

Brian figured Sully respected Ma and her ideas and he liked her as a real person and not just his wife. Sure, they had disagreements from time to time, some of them quite loud and heated, but Sully never told ma that he wouldn't let her do something. He grinned when he tried to imagine it.

"What's funny?" Trevor asked.

"I'm just tryin' to picture Sully tellin' Ma that he 'forbids' her to do somethin'. Sure wouldn't have to wait 'til July for fireworks!"

Trevor didn't laugh. He just looked at Brian. "Don't you mind?" he asked. "I mean, there must've been plenty of times when you needed her and she wasn't around for you".

Brian thought about it. It was true. There'd been lots of times when he'd wanted them to do stuff together but she'd had to be at the clinic, or off somewhere treating a patient. There'd been times when they'd been left alone, or nearly so, when she'd gone to neighboring towns to treat epidemics or give vaccinations. There had been times, when he was still little, when he'd been terribly afraid he was going to lose a second Ma - like the time she went off to treat a patient and was trapped by a rabid bear, or the time she and Sully went to test the water for mercury and were nearly shot by the mine-owner. Once she'd gone off to stitch up a boy who'd fallen off a roof, leaving him and Sully at home with a Katie who was shrieking to be fed and they couldn't do a thing about it. His ma had once gotten so busy she forgot to give Miss Dorothy a story he'd written about the train for a special founder's day edition of the Gazette. And once Katie had gotten sick and his ma had missed the big spelling bee at school when she'd promised to be there ... Brian pulled himself out of his reverie and looked up at Trevor, who was smirking.

"I thought so" he said, without Brian's having said anything. "You know, you'd better shape up pretty quick, especially if you're planning on going to college!"

"What do you mean?"

Trevor looked at him pityingly. "Tending babies? 'Yes, Ma!', 'Yes, Pa!'? Hugs and kisses? The fellows will laugh you right out of there. You need to grow up, become independent. You have to stand up for yourself more. None of this 'cozy dinner at home' stuff. Do you see me hanging onto Uncle Preston's hand every second I'm here? No, I'm my own man!"

What Trevor was saying didn't sound quite right to Brian, but he didn't know how to refute it, either. Trevor pulled out the flask, opened it and took a swig, passing it to Brian who took a quick, cautious sip before passing it back to Trevor.

Trevor put the flask back into his pocket. "Your sister's in medical school, isn't she?" Brian nodded. "More weirdness. Sounds like the women run your family. Sully sure doesn't do anything."

"He's building your uncle's homestead!" Brian protested.

"Only because the judge made him. What do you think is going to happen when the judge comes back to finish his trial? What if he doesn't finish the homestead before then?"

"I better go" Brian said abruptly. Trevor was getting into stuff he wasn't even allowing himself to think about and he certainly didn't want to discuss with someone he hardly knew. "See ya" he said.

"Yeah, see ya!" Trevor smirked. He watched as Brian headed back towards the house, then wended his own way back towards the chateau.

Brian reached his window and began to pull himself up when he noticed that the window was closed. Great. That meant he'd have some explaining to do. He trudged around to the front where Matthew was waiting for him on the porch, sitting on a bench. "Hey, little brother" he said as Brian tromped up the porch stairs and started to brush past him to enter the house.

Brian halted but did not look at Matthew. "Quit calling me that. I'm 'most as tall as you are".

"You're still my 'little brother' ", Matthew said affectionately. Then, in a firmer voice he said, "Sit down a minute, Brian. We need to talk".

Sighing Brian lowered himself to the porch stairs, his back to Matthew. "What about?" he said ungraciously.

"Where you were tonight, for starters" Matthew replied.

"Just behind the barn" Brian replied.

"Who were ya with?" Matthew asked patiently.

Brian shrugged, then said nonchalantly, "Just Trevor".

"Preston's nephew?"

Brian nodded.

"D' ya think he's someone ya oughta be hangin' around with?"

"I like him. He's nice" Brian said defensively.

"Just seems ta me whenever you've been with him your whole attitude changes - ya don't seem like yourself anymore".

"That ain't true" Brian said. But he knew it was. Trevor stirred up things inside him that he tried to keep hidden, questions that he didn't want to ask himself or anyone else. Trevor made him feel that he ought to be dissatisfied with his life and made him wonder if he was really ever happy.

"Brian, I know these last couple years have been hard on ya" Matthew said. "Truth is, life ain't been easy for us ever. Pa left us when you were really small, then Ma died" he paused. "I wasn't a whole lot older 'n you are now when that happened. I was plenty angry. I was mad a Pa for not bein' there, an' mad at Ma for dyin'. I was mad at Dr. Mike for not savin' her and for thinkin' that she could take care of us in Ma's place. But I learned there were people all around who cared what happened to me. People like Dr. Mike. And Sully, an' Miss Olive, an' Robert E an' Grace. Cloud Dancin'. I made a lotta mistakes - gamblin' and workin' in the mines, just to name two. I was tryin' so hard ta grow up on my own. Then Ingrid died an' I wanted ta die, too. An' again all those people who cared were around ta hold me up. Ya think all they wanta do is get ya down, Brian, but it just ain't so. They tell ya 'do this', 'don't do that' - they don't want ya to get married or to take a certain job or they want ya ta go to college or to become what they want you to be ... They only do it 'cause they love ya, Brian. I finally figured that out. It first came to me when I went on the vision quest an' I never forgot it. It helps, knowin' that, when everyone seems ta want ya ta do or be somethin' different from what you want. Ya gotta do what's right for you, but ya can't forget the people that love you, either!"

"What's all this got ta do with Trevor?" Brian asked tiredly.

Matthew sighed. "I'm just not sure Trevor is one of those people who wants what's best for you, Brian. From what I've seen of him he seems ta be a very troubled young man. He's been left on his own too much. He hasn't had those people holding him up, helping him see right from wrong."

"He has lots of uncles!"

"Yeah. And they're probably all like Preston".

Brian had no reply for that.

"What were you doin', anyway?"

Brian shrugged again. "Talkin'" Matthew waited and Brian turned to look at him. "Okay. I tried a little whiskey an' Trevor was smoking but I wasn't".

"This time, you mean" Matthew said intuitively.

Brian nodded. "But isn't that what you've been talkin' about? About becoming a man an' don' what seems right to ya?"

Matthew sighed and stood up. He wanted to make things easier for Brian just like people had wanted to make things easier for him. But it looked like Brian, like himself and countless others before him, was going to have to learn things the hard way. He motioned Brian to his feet and gestured him into the house. "Let's get somethin' straight" he told Brian. "Dr. Mike and Sully may not agree, but I figure what ya do out on your own is your own business. But when you're here on my property I don't want you or any of your friends drinkin' or smokin'. Don't you know better than to smoke around the barn? Once somethin' like that catches, the whole thing goes up. All it takes is a second of carelessness". Brian continued walking into the house. "Brian!" Matthew called. Brian turned around without speaking. "Do you understand me?"

"Yeah. I understand" Brian replied. He went into his room and shut the door.

- Part 20
Michaela awoke and automatically reached for the spot next to her in the bed. It was empty. Sighing, she sat up slowly and looked out the window. It was beginning to get light. She reached for her robe and, pulling it on, went out into the hall. There was no sound from anywhere in the house. Quietly she opened the door to Gordon's room. He was sitting up in his crib and when he saw his mother he grinned in delight and held out his arms. "Good morning, sweetheart!" Michaela said, scooping him up.

"Aaah!" Gordon cried and grabbed a handful of his mother's hair.

Michaela gritted her teeth and tried not to scream. "Ah - could Mama please have her hair back, Sweetie?" she asked, carefully extracting it from Gordon's mouth. Gordon laughed as she laid him down to change his diaper. When he was all clean, she nursed him, then carried him out into the hall where they found Katie waiting outside the door to her room.

Gordon flapped his arms joyously at the sight of his sister.

"Good morning, Katie" Michaela said.

"Breakfast?" Katie asked hopefully.

"Yes, we'll have breakfast, now. Go get something on your feet and come downstairs".

Once downstairs she put Gordon in his high chair, then looked around. There was no sign of Sully or of his having been there. Then she saw that his jacket and tool belt were gone from the hook by the door. He must have wanted to get an early start this morning. He was probably feeling the pressure of the judge's imminent return.

She fixed breakfast for herself and Katie and fed Gordon his cereal. "Where's Papa?" Katie asked between spoonfuls of oatmeal.

"He had to leave early to work this morning" Michaela said, hoping she was right.

"He didn't say good-bye!" Katie pouted.

"He probably didn't want to wake you" Michaela explained.

"Babababababababapbphzt!" Gordon exclaimed, getting Michaela somewhat damp in the process.

"Gordy wants Papa, too" Katie translated.

Michaela sighed and thought he's not the only one. She wiped a squealing Gordon's hands and face and then helped Katie who wriggled and protested mostly out of habit. After settling them in the play area Sully had fixed for them, Michaela sat at the table with a cup of coffee. She thought about last night and tried to imagine what had gone wrong. Sully hadn't even noticed that she'd worn his anniversary gift. He had always enjoyed her backrubs before and it usually wasn't long into the massage before he rolled over on his back and pulled her to him with a little growl that never failed to spark desire in her. She felt herself reddening and glanced toward the children as if they could see her thoughts. Katie was trying to show Gordon how to build a tower with wooden blocks but he was more interested in trying to cram one into his mouth. Fortunately, they were much too big.

She supposed Sully was tired last night. He had been working very hard and she knew the return of the judge was constantly on his mind. She remembered two years ago when he had first come home after the two weeks in jail that had been part of his sentence - his guilt, shame and worry over all that had happened made his interest in - being together - lessen considerably. Love, patience and her insistence that they make the time to talk together had improved things and there hadn't been any more trouble - until now. Michaela's face burned again as she thought about what her mother would say if she knew the thoughts of her youngest daughter. Mother had explained the physical aspects of marriage relations to Michaela and her sisters as best she could deeming them necessary for the creation of children and for keeping their husbands happy. She described the act as a duty to be endured for the sake of peace and harmony in the marriage. Even though Michaela knew much better than that now, it was still hard to shake a lifetime of instruction. She had been made to feel that women who found themselves enjoying lovemaking were of loose morals and questionable repute. Sully had helped her so much in overcoming her inhibitions. With him she was able to express her enjoyment, to show the full range of her emotions and to express her physical love for her husband. There were even times when she initiated things which always made her feel slightly wicked. But Sully assured her that this was quite appropriate and that he enjoyed these times very much. She remembered his telling her in the early weeks of their marriage that he "appreciated her enthusiasm" and he rarely failed to respond to her overtures.

She thought back to their talk and wondered if he was angry with her for bringing up Daniel. The talk that she'd felt had brought them closer might perhaps have driven a wedge between them, instead. It had been more than two years since Daniel's disastrous visit, but Michaela knew now that some things were still not resolved in Sully's mind. Did he feel she was interested in Daniel? The notion was nonsense, of course, but she remembered how jealous she had been over Sully's interest in Catherine, the young woman raised by the Cheyenne. She still experienced a pang when she remembered Brian's telling her of seeing them kiss. She had been jealous not only that Catherine had kissed Sully, but that she was able to do the thing that Michaela so wanted to do in her heart but was too shy and inhibited to do. Her feelings for Sully had been so intense and confusing that she was afraid where the kisses might lead. Perhaps it had been a mistake for her, of all people, to bring up Daniel. Maybe she did dwell on his and Sully's friendship too much. She resolved to keep mum on the subject from now on.

She got up to clean up after breakfast. She wasn't going in to the clinic until after noon today. She would begin preparations for Sully's favorite supper and perhaps he would agree to read a little Whitman to her tonight or maybe accept the challenge of a game of chess. If she could get him to relax, perhaps he would be able to sort out what was bothering him. And he had promised to have lunch with her tomorrow ... She hummed as she pumped water for the washing.

Sully awakened very early, dressed, and left the house without even eating anything. He was ashamed at sneaking out without speaking to Michaela, but he needed to sort some things out for himself. It was hard for him to admit failure and he felt as if he had failed Michaela in so many ways. As if the events of the past two years weren't bad enough, now he'd failed her by what had happened at Preston's and by not telling her about it. Last night he had failed her by not being able to be with her in the way she so obviously wanted.

He thought back to last night. He rarely wore a nightshirt to bed so why had he automatically reached for it last night? Michaela had looked so beautiful and inviting in the gown he'd given her for their wedding anniversary, but the backrub had failed to ease the tension he was feeling and he couldn't keep his mind on Michaela. He'd certainly thought about her earlier, had his mind on being with her. He'd barely let Colleen's room get cold after his mother- and sister-in-law's departure, before he moved Gordon's crib back, restoring privacy to his and Michaela's bedroom.

He'd tried to relax as Michaela massaged his tense muscles in her inimitable way but there was such a tension in his gut that wouldn't ease ... when she had begun fumbling with his nightshirt he'd just had to stop her, knowing it was no use. He knew she was baffled and disappointed by his behaviour but he couldn't think of a way to explain.

She probably thought the conversation about Daniel had upset him and perhaps it was best just to leave it at that. It was partially true, anyway. He knew she wouldn't like his shutting her out but he just had to deal with this his own way. He wondered if he'd be able to get out of having lunch with her at Grace's tomorrow. Probably not a good idea. Stubborn as she was, she'd probably show up at Preston's, against his wishes and then he'd have a lot of explaining to do.

Things were not going well with the repairs to the damage. He'd had to do a lot more work than he'd expected, even ripping up large parts of the porch floor in places and starting over. It actually looked worse now than it had when he'd first seen it yesterday. No, he'd have to be sure Michaela stayed away.

He had arrived at Preston's and stood for a minute, eyes closed, thinking about his wife. Maybe if he thought about her today, kept her in his heart, remembering the good times ... maybe things would be better tonight.

- Part 21
Horace stood framed in the window of the telegraph office, leaning on the counter, looking glum. He saw Hank sauntering his way and contemplated fleeing into the recesses of the building but then thought better of it. It just wouldn't be polite.

Hank nodded to Horace and leaned on the counter from the opposite side. "How ya doin', Horace?" he drawled.

"All right" Horace replied, with an apprehensive glance at Hank.

"Heard from Myra lately?"

Horace checked Hank's face but saw no mockery there, so he replied, "Went to St. Louis awhile back for Samantha's birthday".

"How is the little cutie?" Hank grinned.

Unable to keep the pride out of his voice, Horace said, "She's not so little anymore. She'll be goin' ta school soon!"

Hank shook his head in disbelief then said, "Ya know, Horace, ya oughta get out more, 'steada just mopin' around here. Go to the socials in town, or come to the Nugget".

Horace flicked a quick glance at Hank then looked away. "I don't think so".

Hank said quietly, "She ain't comin' back, Horace".

Horace looked at Hank and then away from him, out into the street. "I know that, Hank. I signed the divorce papers two years ago".

"But you're still carryin' a torch for her, ain't ya?"

Horace cast a pained look at Hank and then shrugged.

Hank settled himself more comfortably on his elbows then said, "Let me tell ya somethin', Horace. I met Myra long time ago when she was just a scared little girl tryin' ta feed her family". He grinned as he remembered. "But there was somethin' about her ... somethin' special. She had such a sweetness about her ... customers just loved that. But a part of her was tough, too. She stood up to the unruly ones" His face hardened. "She stood up ta me. None of my other girls ever ripped up a contract. But she did. She ran off and married you" He stood up, pulled out a cigar and lit it, flipping the burned-out match over the counter at Horace.

Horace jumped then looked away in embarrassment. "She musta just done it ta get away from you" he said bitterly.

"Myra loved ya, Horace" Hank retorted. "She just wasn't cut out ta be someone's sweet little wife ta stay at home ta cook, clean an' take care o' the kids. That kinda life made her feel trapped!"

"Trapped? I let her take that job at the bank" Horace protested. "I let her climb Pike's Peak!"

"You let her ..." Hank said slowly, letting the phrase hang in the air between them.

Horace sighed but then his expression of resignation was replaced by hurt and resignation. "Well, what about me? What about what I want? I want my wife ta be there for me when I need her, ta be at home with our children, takin' care of them, takin' care of our home. Ain't that what a wife's supposed ta do?"

"Sounds more like a servant ta me" Hank muttered more to himself than to Horace.

"Ya don't understand what it feels like, Hank," Horace went on, "havin' someone ya love just up an' leave ya like that!"

"Oh, I understand, all right," Hank replied and a flash of pain crossed his face so swiftly that Horace couldn't even be sure it had been there. "Myra was a free spirit and she didn't want ta belong ta nobody. There was a lotta untamed depths to that woman. She wanted ta be independent".

"Like I said, I let her take that job even though Samantha and I needed her at home. I even let her keep mosta the money she made!" Horace nodded self-righteously.

Hank shook his head, knowing that Horace just didn't get it.

"I don't get it" Horace said dejectedly, as if reading Hank's thoughts. "Dr. Mike and Sully make it work! I never saw two people so different be so in love!"

Hank blew a puff of smoke and grinned. Gone, for now, was the seriousness. "Talk about Michaela" he said appreciatively, "now there's an untamed wilderness!" He threw away his cigar stub and leered at Horace. "No wonder Sully wanted ta go explorin'!" He winked.

Horace looked at Hank reproachfully and Hank threw back his head and laughed. "Loosen up a little, Horace!" was his parting advice. "Ya don't, you're gonna end up bein' an old woman!" With a nod to Horace, Hank headed back to the Gold Nugget.

As Hank sauntered away, Horace sighed. He could have done without that little conversation. He doubted there would ever be anyone for him again. He'd waited a long time for Myra and he knew she'd been the one. Just because it hadn't worked out didn't mean he was ready to move on to someone else. Besides, he had more pressing things on his mind right now.

He reached for the pad on which he wrote the messages as they came in and flipped over to the first page to one that had come in yesterday. He had copied it in more legible form to give to the recipient who had complained in the past about being unable to read Horace's "scrawl". Technically, it should no longer be on the pad but for some reason he had kept it there while he agonized over what to do.

He swallowed hard as loyalty to his oath never to divulge the contents of the messages he received, and loyalty to his friends who might well be adversely affected by this message, did fierce battle within him. If only there was a way to let the appropriate parties know what was going on without actually telling them.

He scanned the message again. "To Mr. Preston Lodge, Bank of Colorado, Colorado Springs, Colorado. Confirm Judge Roland, currently on your circuit, harsh with Indian outlaws and sympathizers. All convictions so far this year in cases involving Indians or those aiding and abetting enemy. No acquittals." Horace swallowed again and pursed his lips. He didn't know what Preston was up to, but it looked like maybe bad news for Sully. Dr. Mike would be in soon to pick up the mail. He could leave the pad out in the open where she might see it ... The blood rushed to his face at the very thought. His job was very important to him as was the oath he had taken as telegraph operator. He had never deliberately broken his vow. Except there was that one time ...

His mind raced back several years to when those Negro soldiers ... Buffalo Soldiers the Indians had called them ... had come into town, bent on getting rid of the Indians. He had received a telegram with their orders to raid the Indian camp and Dr. Mike had talked him into "getting a breath of air" so she could decipher the message, scratched on the pad where his pen had left an impression. He'd felt guilty at the time, but it had prevented a lot of Indian bloodshed.

He straightened his shoulders with resolve. Dr. Mike had been willing to risk jail and even a charge of treason that time for the sake of her convictions. What did she call it? Civil disobedience? Well, he guessed he could find a way to be civilly disobedient without straying too far from his vow ...

"Good afternoon, Horace!" A cheerful voice broke into his reverie.

Horace jumped and turned around to the window. "Oh ... oh it's ... it's you, Dr. Mike! I mean, good afternoon!" Horace's voice was shaking and he cursed his nervousness.

"I came to see if there was any mail or packages for us" Michaela looked closely at Horace. "Are you all right, Horace?"

"Uh ... sure ... I'm fine, Dr. Mike ... " Horace caught himself. "Uh ... I mean ... um ... no I, um, I'm feelin' kinda pale" he said, looking earnestly into her face.

Michaela blinked at this strange behaviour, but she said, "Well, you look fine to me, Horace! Not pale at all" she smiled.

Horace bit his lip, looked away, then back at Dr. Mike. "Well, I'm feelin' a bit pale" he said, deliberately emphasizing the last word, wondering if she would remember the ruse she had used that time to get him away from his desk for a moment.

Michaela screwed up her face in puzzlement. "Well, would you like to come over to the clinic so I can examine you? I'm headed over there after I pick up my mail" She peered at Horace to see if he was listening. "My mail, Horace?" she said gently.

Horace licked his lips then straightened up determinedly. "Dr. Mike," he said firmly, "I feel pale and I think I need ta step out for a breath of fresh air!" He waved his pad in front of her face. "I'm gonna just put my pad down here on the counter" he slapped it down in front of her, "an' step outside for a moment". He strode out the door, leaving Michaela standing, puzzled, in the window, wondering if Horace, at last, had gone over the edge.

As Horace stood a little way away from her, something was niggling at her brain. There was something very familiar about this exchange. Horace was peering at her from the corners of his eyes but when he saw her looking he turned away, taking deep breaths and pretending to ignore her. Michaela thought. Horace was obviously trying to tell her something... Suddenly a face flashed through her mind, that of a handsome black soldier who had come to kill Indians and had ended up risking his career and his life to stand up for what was right. Why had he suddenly come to mind? And then she knew. Snatching up the pad she read what was written there and felt her heart begin to beat faster. Glancing at Horace who was studiously looking away, she ripped the paper off the pad and stuck it in her apron pocket. "Thank you, Horace" she said quietly as she hurried past him down the street.

Horace, breathing a sigh of relief, suddenly remembered his duty. "Dr. Mike!" he called after her, "Your mail!"

- Part 22
As Michaela hurried over to the library, she hoped Grace would be all right watching Katie and Gordon for another few minutes. She had lunched at the cafe and Grace had insisted she leave the children while she went to check the mail. "Seems th' only way I get ta see these little ones in in bits an' snatches, Dr. Mike ... Michaela" she amended shyly. Since the cafe didn't seem too busy and Grace had plenty of help that day, Michaela had agreed gratefully. Now she hoped Grace would forgive her for this little side trip. She only hoped Peter would be there.

Peter Taylor, Roberta's husband, was now a full-time homesteader and part-time lawyer. He used the library as a sort of temporary office where he kept hours several afternoons a week to consult with people who might require his legal services. Matthew, who as sheriff had developed a real interest in the law, often joined Peter at the library, questioning him about cases and poring over Peter's law books - a far cry from his earlier interest in cattle ranching.

To Michaela's relief, Peter was alone today, seated at a desk he had set up in the corner. "Michaela!" Peter rose to greet her, shaking her hand and steering her to a chair. "How are you? How's the family?"

"We're well, thank you" Michaela replied. "Is Sam feeling better?"

"Oh yes. Better and up to avoiding his chores again!" Peter grinned, grey eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. Seeing Michaela's rather distraught look he said, "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes. I ..." she paused. When she'd rushed over here, she hadn't given any thought to how she would broach the matter with Peter without bringing Horace into the picture. She decided to be as direct as possible. "I was wondering if you'd heard of a Judge Roland?"

Peter looked startled, but quickly recovered. "I've ... heard of him" he said cautiously. "Why do you ask?"

Michaela hesitated for a moment then reached into her pocket and withdrew the note she had taken from Horace's pad. "Please don't ask me how I came by this" she said.

Peter reached for the proffered bit of paper, a puzzled look on his face. As he read, his look changed to one of concern. He read it a second time, then looked up thoughtfully.

"Peter?" Michaela prompted.

Peter turned at the sound of her voice, as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Michaela," he said, "I'm going to have to look into a few things and then get back to you about this".

"Is there a cause for concern?" she queried.

"Please, let me check into some things and I'll get back to you. Later today, or tomorrow at the latest".

Michaela looked as if she wanted to say something more, but Grace was waiting with Gordon and Katie and people would be needing her at the clinic. So, thanking Peter, she took her leave.

The lunch rush was over at the cafe and Grace, Dorothy and Roberta sat at one of the tables, enjoying cider and pie. Roberta's twins slumbered peacefully in their carriage. Katie sat in Grace's lap masterfully wielding a glass of milk. A partially-eaten cookie sat in front of her and a milk mustache and cookie-crumb whiskers adorned her face. Carefully she set the milk down and reached for the cookie. "Good!" she declared, scrunching up her face in a grin. She twisted around so she could see Gordon snoozing in his carriage. "Can Gordon have a cookie?" she asked Grace.

Grace smiled and wrapped her arms tightly around Katie in a hug. "I don't think your Ma would like that, Katie. Gordon's not old enough to be eatin' cookies!"

Katie nodded sagely. "Gordon gots to eat mushy stuff. Only big girls get cookies". The women smiled at the superior look she threw her brother.

Roberta turned to Dorothy, continuing their conversation. "So are you saying you won't be publishing the "Eagle" anymore?"

Dorothy jabbed at her pie, then put her fork down. "I don't know, I just don't know. I'm not really sellin' enough papers to make it worthwhile. Preston's "Gazette" prints all the local news plus other news from around the country. I can't compete with that!"

Grace made a face. "Preston's paper prints murders, accidents and gossip!" Her lip curled as she said the last word. "Personally, I don't care to know every detail about the people who died in a factory fire in Chicago, nor who Mrs. Frederick Montgomery Putnam from Philadelphia was dallyin' with when she went ta New York!"

"New Yuck!" Katie put in.

"Unfortunately, that seems to be the trend in newspapers these days" Roberta said ruefully.

"They call it 'sensationalism'" Dorothy put in. "Folks don't wanta read just the facts, they want 'em all dressed up like in some dime novel. They want all the gruesome details!" She gave a shudder. "That just isn't my idea of journalism".

"What about that book ya wrote about the town?" Grace said dryly.

"That was different" Dorothy replied staunchly. "That was a book! A newspaper's supposed ta report the facts except for an editorial or letters to the editor which can reflect opinion".

"What are you going to do?" Roberta asked, trying to move the conversation back onto safer ground. Michaela had told her about Dorothy's first book.

"I don't know. I'd like to strangle Preston Lodge for starters. He's so smug and superior. 'I can't help it if people prefer my paper to yours, Dorothy'" She did a fair imitation of Preston's mocking tone.

"Well, you did rub it in a lot when you started the "Eagle" during Sully's trial and Preston had no way to report it in the "Gazette" " Roberta reminded her.

"Whose side are you on, anyway?" Dorothy asked, offended.

"Oh, I'm on your side" Roberta assured her. "I've been buying only the "Eagle". I think Preston is a pompous blow-hard but I also think he's a powerful man with connections that open doors that are closed to most people".

Grace quirked an eyebrow. "Ya mean like his rich Daddy?" The women laughed.

"Mama!" Katie cried as Michaela approached the table. As if on cue, Gordon awoke and began wailing piteously. "Mama, Gordon's hungry!" Katie interpreted. "He can't have cookies " she explained.

"He certainly can't" Michaela agreed, "but I see you have!" She reached in the carriage to pick up the baby.

"I thought it would be all right to give her a little snack," Grace explained, "seein' as how we were all havin' one. Would ya like some pie and cider?"

"Oh, no thank you, Grace. I need to get over to the clinic. Yes, sweetheart" she patted Gordon's back. "You'll get your snack soon. Katie, get your things and say 'thank you' to Aunt Grace".

"T'anks for cookies!" Katie grinned.

Michaela place Gordon back in the carriage and, pushing it with one hand, she grabbed Katie's hand with the other. "Thank you, Grace. Dorothy, Roberta" she acknowledged her friends with a half-smile, then sped off towards the clinic.

The three women looked at each other then stared after the departing Michaela. It was unusual that she wouldn't stay to at least have a few words with her friends.

Just then first one and then the other twin awoke, echoing Gordon's cries of hunger.

"I knew it was too good to be true" Roberta sighed. "They've been asleep for a whole hour!"

Dorothy smiled in sympathy. "Bring them on over to the mercantile" she invited. "You can use my room ta nurse 'em before goin' home".

"I think that's my cue ta start gettin' things goin' for the supper crowd tonight" Grace rose to her feet. "I enjoyed this little break, ladies".

"Oh, so did we" Roberta said warmly. "Thanks for the pie - it was wonderful as always".

"Yes, thanks, Grace!" Dorothy said as she and Roberta left the cafe. She could barely be heard over the wails of the twins so she and Roberta hurried off to the mercantile.

- Part 23
Michaela was worried. Peter had not come by the clinic that afternoon and when she'd returned to the library before coming home, he had not been there. She'd thought he might stop by the homestead on his way home but he hadn't. Now it was suppertime and she knew he probably wouldn't come by tonight. She knew he had said he might have no news until tomorrow but she had hoped to know something tonight. Did the telegram mean that Judge Roland was coming to complete Sully's trial? Of course she always thought that Sully's trial was completed - that it was just a formality that Judge Winthrop would come back to see that Sully had completed his sentence. Now she wasn't so sure. If Judge Roland did come could he still sentence Sully to prison - or worse? She glanced at Sully, hunched over his plate, chewing methodically. She hated keeping things from him but she preferred not to bring the subject up until she was in possession of more facts. She didn't wish to cause him needless worry. He had enough on his mind already.

The venison stew she had made especially for Sully was a near disaster. Her culinary skills had greatly improved in her seven years here but tonight she had just been too distracted. The meat was tough and she hadn't added the vegetables soon enough so they were practically raw. And she'd added too much salt. She sighed. She'd so wanted tonight's dinner to be special. She'd even used her good china rather than the usual tin plates. She doubted that anyone even noticed. Supper used to be such a wonderful time - a time when they all came together at the end of the day to share stories of school and work, of triumphs and even disasters that in the comfort and warmth of the family setting never seemed as bad as when they happened. There were songs, jokes, stories, lots of laughter. Not so tonight. Brian and Matthew were pushing the food around on their plates, probably hoping it would somehow magically disappear. Sully was forking his stew in mechanically, but he seemed a million miles away. Katie was putting fingersful of stew into her mouth, then removing them half-chewed and placing them on the table beside her plate. Between bites she was chanting nursery rhymes in her high, thin voice. Each person seemed to be on his or her own little island. There was no interaction, no conversation.

Matthew stood up abruptly. "I gotta go ta Denver early tomorrow ta see about a prisoner, so I need to turn in early. Ya ready to go, Brian?" Brian stood quickly, a look of relief on his face. Matthew grabbed his hat. "Thanks for supper, Dr. Mike".

Michaela shrugged. "I'm afraid there wasn't much to thank me for" she said. "I'm sorry".

" 's all right" Matthew grinned, giving her a peck on the cheek.

"G' night, Ma" Brian said, hugging her. He turned to Sully. "Ya need me ta help ya tomorrow, Sully?"

Sully didn't answer at first and Brian waited expectantly. Finally the question sank in. "No ... no, that's all right, Brian. You go fishin' or something. Or see if your Ma needs help around here. I'm fine".

Brian looked puzzled. "But I thought you said ..."

"I said 'No", Brian. Just leave it!"

Startled at Sully's tone, Brian turned to go. "Okay. Thanks. G' night Pa, G' night Ma".

"G' night" Matthew echoed.

"Good night" Michaela said. Sully remained silent, brooding over his coffee, deep in thought. After the door had closed behind the boys, Michaela remarked, "You didn't have to be so abrupt with Brian. Besides, I thought you could use all the help you could get!"

"Not tomorrow" Sully replied. "He'd just be in the way".

"Jackie nibble, Jackie quick" sang Katie, "Jackie over the candlestick!" She waved her little arms dangerously near the candle in the middle of the table.

"No, no, Katie" Michaela deftly moved the candle out of reach. She saw the half-chewed food on the table. "Oh dear, look at the mess you've made!", then turning to Sully, "What's so important about tomorrow?"

Sully sighed with exaggerated patience. "It's not that it's so important, it's just somethin' I've gotta do myself. Can't you just leave it at that?"

"Baa, baa black sheep!" Katie sang loudly, vying for attention. Gordon began to wail in his high chair.

Michaela grabbed a cloth, then whisked Gordon out of his chair, attempting to clean mashed carrot from his face and fingers before nursing him. He howled in frustration, groping at his mother's blouse. "Honestly, you're as bad as your father" Michaela said and glanced at Sully but the attempt at humor was lost on him. Gordon began to nurse greedily as Katie continued her concert.

"Hump'y Dump'y sat on a wall ... sing, Mama!!" she ordered.

"Not right now, sweetheart" Michaela said tiredly.

"Sing!!!" Katie screamed, a dangerous look on her face. If her parents had cared to notice they'd have seen their daughter's mouth set like her mother's and her eyes glittering very much like her father's. She began to sing again. "Hump'y Dump'y sat on a wall" she glanced at her mother to be sure she was watching. "Hump'y Dump'y had a great fall!!" and before Michaela could stop her she gave her plate a shove and it went over the edge of the table and crashed to the floor.

"Katherine Elizabeth Sully!" Michaela cried. Gordon stopped nursing and looked at her in surprise. "You should be ashamed, young lady!"

Katie's eyes began to tear up and she eased herself down from the table and ran over to stand between her father's knees. Michaela continued to reprimand Katie about the mess she'd made of her dinner, about her yelling and deliberately pushing her plate on the floor.

Sully held up a hand. "Easy, Michaela, she's just a little girl".

"But my good china ..."

Sully looked at her in exasperation. "What were ya thinkin' usin' that fancy stuff tonight? Ya shoulda known better!" Katie continued to sob dramatically, her head in her father's lap.

Michaela retorted, "I know you don't care for 'fancy' but I was just trying to make things nice. Special". Her face crumpled. "It wasn't special. It was horrible. Everything is horrible!" She burst into tears.

Sully looked helplessly from his wife to his daughter then he carefully disengaged Katie from his knee and walked over to Michaela. Katie followed, clinging to his leg. He came up behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders. "Why don't you finish nursing Gordon and get him ready for bed" he said quietly. "I'll take care of Katie".

Michaela nodded wordlessly, swiping tears from her eyes with her fingers. She offered her breast to Gordon again and realising the entertainment was over for now, he happily turned back to the rest of his supper.

"C'mon, Kates. Let's go get ready for bed" Sully said, scooping her up.

Michaela watched as Sully walked toward the stairs carrying their daughter. Katie's arms were firmly latched around her father's neck and she stared reproachfully at her mother over his shoulder, a lone tear still gracing her cheek. She still emitted an occasional hiccupy sob. Michaela sighed again and then could not suppress a rueful smile as in far-off Boston she could hear her mother laughing ...

- Part 24
Michaela finished nursing Gordon and gave him a quick bath by the fire, then she carried him, fed, warm and dry, up the stairs to his room. As they passed Katie's room she heard Katie's small voice and Sully's deep one, engaged in conversation. She certainly was her father's girl, Michaela reflected. She couldn't resist eavesdropping a little and paused before Katie's doorway.

"No story, Papa?" Katie was saying sadly.

"Not tonight, Kates" Sully told her.

"A song?" Katie's voice was plaintive.

"Nope. We need ta talk about what you did at supper tonight. Do ya think you should be allowed ta get away with that kinda behaviour?"

"I'm just a little girl!" Katie said hopefully.

Michaela put a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. It served Sully right to have his own words thrown back at him. There was a good reason why they'd agreed to save their disagreements over discipline for their private time.

"You're big enough ta know better than ta throw your plate on the floor!"

"Mama wouldn't sing with me" Katie pouted.

"Do ya think what ya did made her feel like singin'?"

There was a small pause and when Katie spoke again Michaela could hear the tears in her voice. "No".

There was a rustling sound and Michaela knew Sully was taking her into his arms. "I think your ma was maybe more upset with you than she wanted ta be. She loves pretty, fancy things like her special plates".

"More than me?" Katie asked. Michaela's heart melted.

"No, not more than you, Kates. I just think it hurt her- made her feel real sad - when ya broke that plate and made that mess. I think maybe she felt the way you did when she didn't want ta sing with you. What do ya think you could do about that?"

"Say 'sorry'?"

"That's a good start, Kates. An' maybe tomorrow you an' me could go pick some flowers for her ta put on the table at supper. How would that be?"

"Pretty!" Katie answered.

As Sully tucked his daughter in and listened to her prayers, Michaela tiptoed past Katie's door to Gordon's room where she settled the baby for the night.

When Michaela entered their bedroom, Sully was washing up. She walked up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, kneading the muscles.

"Thank you for putting Katie to bed" she said.

Sully turned to face her, placing his hands gently on her waist. "You're welcome" he said, kissing her lightly. "Figured you two could use a little time apart". He released his hold and turned back to his ablutions.

Michaela began undressing. "I was much worse than Katie," she mused, "always defiant. There never seemed to be a time when my mother and I weren't at each other's throats".

"But your Pa always took your part" Sully grinned.

"Yes, and it drove my mother crazy. My father was the one who gave me the nickname 'Mike'. My mother and sisters hated it. All except Rebecca. She said it suited me. But Mother, Marjorie, Claudette and Maureen would only call me 'Michaela' and then one day I decided I would only answer to 'Mike'." Michaela sat at the dressing table and began brushing her hair.

Sully smiled and took the brush from her, drawing it gently through her long tresses. "That musta been interesting".

"Oh, it was. I was all of four years old, I think. My mother or one of my sisters would call me and I'd completely ignore them. Then Father would say "Come on, Mike, do what your mother says' and I'd obey instantly. Marjorie used to tease me. She told me I'd turn into a boy if I insisted on being treated like one".

Sully's eyes twinkled. "I told ya the same thing, once".

"Yes, you did, didn't you. The Indians were going to help us hunt for Brian who'd run away and I refused to stay in camp with the other women. You told me the Cheyenne believed a woman who acted like a brave would become one". She smiled. "I told you I'd take the risk". She turned in the chair to face him.

Sully put the brush down and drew her to her feet. "Glad ya stayed a woman" he said.

"So am I" she replied. They kissed, but as they did, she could feel Sully pulling away emotionally. She tilted her head back to look at him and saw that his expression had become remote again. "Sully?"

He shook his head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry, Michaela. I guess I'm just tired".

"Well, then," she smiled seductively and took his hand, "I guess we ought to go to bed". Once under the covers she snuggled up against, her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest which she was happy to note was bare tonight. She offered her lips to be kissed and he gently responded, but did not deepen the kiss.

Sighing, Michaela rolled over and cuddled up against him and he put his arms around her. It had been a confusing evening full of conflicting emotions. Gordon had been fussier than usual, Katie had been obstreperous and demanding and she herself had been quite moody. Sully had been understanding and helpful with Katie, but he still seemed remote and withdrawn, even for him. His continuing disinterest in "being together" was unusual but she didn't feel as if she could ask him about it. Not directly. She had come a long way in four years of marriage - but not that far. She had expressed her interest, now the rest was up to him. She didn't want to press when they were both going through so much. She placed her hands on his arms as they encircled her. "Good night, Sully" she said.

"Good night, Michaela" Sully said, pulling her closer. "I love you". He kissed the back of her neck.

"I know" Michaela answered him, caressing his arms. "I love you".

Sully closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, enjoying the warmth of his wife against him. He hated that he'd disappointed her again, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Briefly he wondered if he should see a doctor about his "problem", but since the only doctor for miles around happened to be his wife, he dismissed that idea. He certainly wasn't going to apply to Matthew for permission to go to Denver to see another doctor. He would be glad when this would all be over with and he would, hopefully, be a free man, able to leave town, to go where he pleased.

His muscles tensed again. Something was going on at Preston's and he really didn't know what to do about it. It wasn't anything obvious like the recent damage, just little things. One of the boards he had needed to use today was just a fraction short. Not much, but enough so he couldn't use it where he needed to. The bucket of nails he had bought had come up short, too. He was going to have to buy more in order to finish. He supposed the problem could be with the supplier, but that was unlikely. He had been taking the time to put all his supplies inside each night so they would be less tempting to someone passing by. He didn't want to have to load and reload the wagon each day and night, taking the supplies back and forth. It would be too much extra work and time and would lead to too many unwanted questions. So would spending the night out there. That would take a lot of explaining. He had thought of staying out there with Wolf one night, but then thought better of it. Aside from the questions it would raise, he was worried about Wolf.

He had sent Wolf off with Cloud Dancing two years ago. He and Michaela had had the same thought that the soldiers might try to use him to track Sully after his fall from the cliff. A year later he had shown up at the homestead one night, hungry, footsore and home. But that journey had taken a toll on him and he wasn't a young wolf anymore. Sully didn't want to create a situation that might put Wolf in danger.

He let his mind wander to pleasanter things - trying to imagine Michaela as a little girl as stubborn and willful as Katie. He wondered if she'd ever tossed her dinner onto the floor in a bid for attention. As the youngest of five she must've done something to make her presence known. He wondered how she had been 'much worse' than Katie. He'd have to remember to ask her. At last, sleep overcame him.

- Part 25
Not far from the Sully homestead, the Taylors were also preparing for bed. Sam and Bonnie were long asleep and Roberta was just putting the twins down. Peter had gotten home just a short while ago and was finishing a late supper at the table. Roberta joined him with a sigh.

"Tough day?" Peter smiled at her sympathetically.

"Oh, no more than usual" Roberta replied.

Peter looked guilty. "Maybe we should never have left Philadelphia. Life wasn't so hard there and at least we could get help. You must be exhausted with the house, the kids, the babies...

Roberta reached out a hand to quiet him. "I'm happy here, Peter. We agreed to this move. It was the best thing for us. There were too many bad memories back East ..." She paused a moment, then said, "I'm worried about you, Peter - trying to work this land and maintain a law practice ..."

"It's not much of a practice, Bobby. I just try to help people out where I can".

"But you were so late tonight ..."

Peter shook his head. "I had to make a run up to Denver this afternoon". He looked troubled.

"What is it? Is it something about Sully's case?"

Peter nodded. "Michaela came to see me today. She had come by some information which she shared with me that led me to believe a Judge Roland would be coming to complete the final stage of Sully's trial".

"What information? Who's Judge Roland? What happened to Judge Winthrop?" Roberta wasn't sure which question to ask first so she asked them all.

Peter laughed. "Whoa! One at a time, Bobby! Michaela asked me not to divulge the source of her information. Judge Winthrop feels he has gotten too old to continue on the circuit. Judges Spenser and Roland were appointed to replace him. Judge Spenser would not be a bad choice, but the last person we need coming here to complete a case having to do with Indians is Judge Roland".

"Why is that?"

"He's an Indian-hater pure and simple. He was part of the lobby in Washington that's for out and out extermination. In all the cases he's tried having to do with Indians, or with those aiding and abetting them in any way that even hints at treason, he's found a way to get outright convictions".

"How can he get away with that?" Roberta wondered.

"He's got most of the government and the Army behind him. If it hadn't been for Judge Winthrop's compassion and understanding Sully could very well have been executed two years ago, or at the very least sent to prison for life. My understanding is that General Wooden and other "higher ups" were very upset at the way things transpired and would welcome any opportunity to have them turn out differently next month. Judge Roland is their man".

"You mean if Roland came, he could still sentence Sully further?"

"It's possible," Peter replied. "It was left open-ended enough that if he finds any fault at all with the way Winthrop's sentence was carried out, Sully could very well find himself behind bars or even at the wrong end of a rope".

"That's terrible!" Roberta shuddered, then rose and began clearing Peter's supper dishes. "Couldn't you use your influence to try to get Judge Spenser?"

Peter laughed a rueful laugh. "Bobby, my influence is next to none around here. At best I'm practising law part time for people the folks up in Denver care nothing about, most of whom can't even pay me. Someone with a lot more influence than I have has apparently been pulling strings and calling in favors in an effort to ensure that Judge Roland is placed on the case".

"Preston?" Roberta guessed.

Peter nodded. "It looks that way. I know he's never seen eye to eye with Sully and Michaela but that he would deliberately want to hurt them in this way ..."

"He hates Sully" Roberta said flatly.

"Surely hate is too strong a ... " Peter began but Roberta was shaking her head.

"I've seen the way he looks at Sully. It's not just a little thing. It's deep-seated resentment. Hate".

"Perhaps he hasn't thought it through - thought what the final outcome might be ..." He caught her look. "What? You think he has?" Peter didn't like to believe evil of others and neither did Roberta. But his wife did have an innate sense about people and if she thought Preston was trying to do away with Sully... It was too much to contemplate.

Roberta looked at Peter steadily. "So what do we do now?"

Peter said, "Well, I told Michaela I'd get back to her about the meaning of the information she gave me and I must talk to Sully about the implications of all this. I must stress how important it is for him to have all the work done, and done well before the judge gets here. I guess I should talk to the people whose homesteads Sully repaired or rebuilt - see if they are willing to testify in his behalf as to the work he did. I know he's done an excellent job - over and above what the judge would require. He didn't just build houses - he created works of art".

"Well, you'll have to start by talking with Sully and Michaela. Why don't you invite them for supper tomorrow night?" Roberta suggested.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Peter asked.

"I just have a stew planned. It's no trouble and there's always plenty. Sam and Bonnie will help".

"Sounds like a good idea, then" Peter rose and held out his hand to Roberta. "We'd best turn in, now. I'll stop by the Sully homestead tomorrow and ask them about supper".

"Thank you, Peter. Bed sounds great. I'm exhausted!"

As if on cue, the twins began to wail one after the other. Peter and Roberta laughed. "You go get ready for bed" Roberta told Peter, giving him a kiss. "I'll be in shortly".

Continue...