For personal use and select distribution only © by Judith A., October 2006

No Greater Burden
By Judith A.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Sully carried the trunk from their bedroom to the front porch, the muscles in his arms taut, his face creased in concentration. The weight of the chest caused him to sway back and forth in an unsteady motion, as if drunk. Pausing for a moment, he lowered his heavy burden to the wooden floorboard and flexed his arms, rubbing them hard to restore their circulation. "Michaela," he muttered under his breath. "What'd ya put in here?" Still breathing heavily, he lifted the large trunk again, carried it down the porch steps, and carefully placed it into the covered wagon. Sully climbed out of the wagon, his arms still throbbing, and stood for a few moments to catch his breath while staring at the items that still needed to be loaded for their trip. As the feeling slowly returned to his arms and hands, he loaded the medical supplies, bedrolls, cooking supplies, extra blankets and the tent Michaela convinced him to take.

The range of items his wife insisted was necessary never ceased to amaze him. If it were up to him, they would manage with only bedrolls, one change of clothes, a knife, soap, and a small cooking pot, far less than Michaela had packed. But over the years, Sully had learned to hold his tongue when it came to his wife's tendency to plan and pack for every possible occurrence. Often she included too much of everything, but invariably, she had added the one item that proved essential to their safety on a trip. For that alone, having too many socks and shirts seemed like a small price to pay.

Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, he bent down to pick up a crate of food, when he heard a rider approaching the homestead. Returning the crate to the ground, he turned around and smiled.

"Hey Brian, glad ya decided ta come along," Sully said, a combination of pleasure and surprise in his voice.

Brian dismounted his horse, tied it to the rail, and hurried toward Sully. "Sorry I took so long to make up my mind."

Sully shook his son's hand. "Don't matter. I'm real glad you're here." He reached for Brian's bag, laying it alongside the trunk. "Is everythin' all right?"

"Yeah. Where'd this come from?" Brian pointed to the unfamiliar covered wagon.

"Robert E. got it for me," Sully replied, loading the last of the supplies. "I thought it'd make the trip easier on the family."

At the sound of the front door opening, both Brian and Sully looked up to see Michaela step onto the porch holding Katie and Josef by the hand.

"Brian!" she exclaimed, immediately spotting her son standing next to her husband. "I'm so glad you decided to come with us." With her children by her side, Michaela closed the distance between them to embrace her older son. Then Brian knelt down to hug his little brother and sister.

"All set?" Sully asked Michaela as he lifted Katie and Josef into the wagon. "Come on boy," he called to Wolf. The Sully family's faithful companion was getting on in years and had earned the luxury of riding in the wagon. Hearing his name, Wolf stretched to his full length, jumped into the wagon, and curled up next to the children.

Michaela took one long last look at the homestead then let her eyes roam to the road in the hopes of seeing Dorothy riding up in the distance. Even though her friend had made it clear she wasn't joining them, Michaela couldn't help hoping she would reconsider. After a few moments, she turned back to her husband. "Yes, I'm ready, but could we wait a few more minutes for Dorothy?"

"I thought you said she wasn't comin'?"

"I did, but I was hoping maybe…"

"She ain't comin' Michaela."

Swallowing hard, disappointment weighed on her chest. "I suppose not."

Sully met her eyes and they shared a silent look of regret over Dorothy's decision. Then Sully placed his hands around Michaela's waist and lifted her onto the front seat of the wagon. Walking around to the other side, he pulled himself up to the driver's bench and grasped the reins. Brian trotted his horse up beside them.

"Papa, when will we be there?" Josef asked.

Sully lightly chuckled. "'Bout a week, give or take a few days."

"How many days?"

Sully tapped Josef's nose. "You'll go ta sleep seven times and then we'll be there."

"That's a long time," Katie chimed in, still trying to find a comfortable position in the back of the wagon.

"Don't think of it as gettin' someplace. Try enjoyin' all the things we'll see and do on the way there." With the reins firmly in hand, Sully steered the wagon away from the homestead.
Michaela poked her head around the side of the wagon as she watched the homestead fade away behind her. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was forgetting something important, leaving behind an item that was certain to make a difference on this trip to Oklahoma. Was it that extra crate of provisions Sully convinced her not to take? The flannel long johns she expected the children may need if the nights turned chilly? Or was it her dearest friend, whose heart had ached for this trip, and was now missing it?

The lingering hope, that perhaps Dorothy had changed her mind and would decide to join them, weighed heavily on Michaela's mind. As the homestead gradually disappeared from view, Michaela faced forward and feebly tried to turn her thoughts to the journey ahead, rather than the town, the patients and the friends, she was leaving behind.

What began as a gray morning had turned into a bright sunny day with hardly a cloud in the sky; it was a sign of hope for a safe and pleasant journey. It was a perfect day to begin this trip, she thought. The weather was beautiful, the children were eager to get away, and Brian had decided to join them after all. So far, the trip appeared promising for the whole family. While beginning to anticipate the enjoyment they'd have on this visit, Michaela's daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of her name being called.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Yes, what?"

"You said my name."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did Sully," she began to retort. "I heard you say, ‘Mic…"

"Michaela!"

"Sully, did you hear that?" Michaela jumped out of her seat in expectation as she searched the dusty path behind them.

"What?"

"Slow down. I hear it again."

"There's no one there Michaela. We gotta get ta Pueblo before sundown."

"Wait! Wait for me," a voice called from the distance.

"Ma, it's Miss Dorothy," Brian yelled. "Pa, slow down."

Sully pulled up on the reins to stop the horses as Michaela's head peered around the cover of the wagon. Through a whirlwind of sand and dust, Dorothy emerged. She was riding hard and fast to catch up to the wagon as dirt from the road swirled behind her.

"We gave up on you," Sully said, jumping down from his seat to greet Dorothy.

"Well, we almost did." The grin on Michaela's face was too wide to hide her overjoyed relief.

Dorothy tried to catch her breath. "I was…up all night…thinkin'," she said in short gasps. "I finally decided you were right."

"Careful, she loves hearin' that," Sully gently teased.

"Sully!" Michaela breathed pretending to take offense. Then she reached for Dorothy's hand and squeezed it in understanding. "I'm glad you decided to join us after all. I was beginning to think I'd have no other woman to talk to for weeks!" Giving a slight glance to Sully, knowing how he often found his wife's desire for social interaction humorous, she turned back to Dorothy. "It's too late to turn back now."

"Well," Dorothy began, "I'm not turning back now, and I can almost guarantee we'll have plenty to talk about."

* * *

With the fiery afternoon sun hovering high among the fluffy white clouds, the newly formed group continued on its path down the dirt packed road, away from Colorado Springs. Michaela drove the wagon with Dorothy by her side, the children and Wolf in the back, while Sully and Brian led the way on horseback.

As they made their way over the rugged terrain, they found a world of intense greens and browns surrounding them on either side of the wagon. High above them, walls of red granite jutted out like a canopy, forming a natural protective cover. Along the side of the road, the columbine were in full bloom, their starry, blue and white flowers nodding on the end of long, slender stems.

After a long hard day of travel, the towering Rockies finally receded into the distance. A seemingly endless variety of trees, more than even they could name, covered the landscape and moved up the mountainside. There, they paused giving way to the gnarled dwarfed pines that dotted the sheer stone walls of the higher peaks.

"Mama, are we there yet?" Katie had grown restless from sitting for so long. She was pressed against the side of the wagon scratching Wolf behind the ears as his head lay in her lap.

Michaela turned around to face the children. "It won't be much longer." She noticed Josef on his knees leaning over the side of the wagon. "Josef, please sit down."

Josef sighed from boredom and sat back down with his legs crossed in front of him. "I don't wanna ride in the wagon no more."

"I'm hungry," Katie said.

"Sully," Michaela called to her husband, who was several yards ahead of them.

He turned around at the sound of her voice. "Yeah?"

"How much longer until we stop? The children need a rest."

"Not much longer now."

Michaela turned back to the children. "It won't be much longer. Katie, there are apples in the basket. After you finish eating, why don't the two of you try to take a nap?"

"I'm not tired," Josef said. He reached for a book and began flipping through the pages.

"Me neither," echoed Katie, removing an apple from the basket. Turning around, she noticed Josef with her book. "He's got my book," she tattled, leaning across the wagon and reaching to snatch the book out of her brother's hands. "Give it back."

"I wanna look at it. There's nothing else ta do," Josef complained.

"Katie, why don't you read the book to your brother? That way, both of you can enjoy it," Michaela suggested, with a heavy sigh. The children had been restless for the past two hours. She tried engaging them in singing songs, naming all the trees on the road, and even practicing Cheyenne words, but they soon lost interest. Now, they couldn't seem to sit still and were asking to stop every few minutes.

"Michaela, I don't know about you, but I agree with the children. We've been in this wagon a long time," Dorothy said. Her backside was burning, her muscles aching, from hours of riding on the hard seat.

Michaela rubbed her lower back to ease her own pain. "I know. Sully wanted to be in Pueblo by supper. That way we'll only have one more day of hard riding. Then we can rest for a few days, while he surveys the land that's of interest to the lumber mill."

"It's a shame Sully has to work on your vacation, but it'll be nice to rest for more than a few hours at a time," Dorothy said, then hesitated, looking to her friend timidly. "Michaela, are you nervous?"

"Nervous?"

"About seeing Cloud Dancing and the Cheyenne again?"

Michaela looked toward Sully, who was a good distance ahead of them, as she considered the question. It was a comfort to be able to share her own fears with a friend, without disappointing her husband, who was overjoyed at the chance to reunite with his old friend once again. "Truthfully, I am nervous. I'm worried about how we'll find the Cheyenne when we get to the reservation." She paused for a long moment. "But I'm looking forward to seeing Cloud Dancing again, aren't you?"

The sentence hung awkwardly in the air for a long moment before Dorothy answered. "I haven't seen Cloud Dancing in four years, Michaela. Sometimes it seems like yesterday, and other times it seems like another lifetime ago. I'm not even sure…I'm not even sure what to say to him."

Michaela smiled and squeezed her friend's hand in reassurance. "Why don't you start with hello, I'm glad to see you?"

Dorothy managed a weak smile and a nod in reply, but in her mind she wondered whether it would be that simple. Her heart, already torn by mixed emotions, knew it wouldn't.

While she never could come up with the correct word to define her relationship with Cloud Dancing, she knew he had been more than a friend. There was no denying they once had shared strong feelings for each other. They had spent countless hours together, talking, and telling stories of their backgrounds and their people. They had even begun to take their relationship to a whole new level by sharing a few sweet kisses and warm tender embraces when they were alone.

Though they never spoke of it, Dorothy knew a bond had formed between them, a bond that led down a road neither of them had ever traveled. Their relationship was more than a simple, fiery dime-novel romance. The bond they shared was one that would live inside them both throughout their years.

That all changed after the battle at Little Big Horn. After Custer's Last Stand, Dorothy began to realize that they had reached a fork in the road, a fork that would forever divide them. Dorothy saw less and less of Cloud Dancing after the summer of 1876. He visited Colorado Springs less often and spent more time in the Tongue River Valley. The last time they spoke, over four years ago now, Dorothy felt like she was losing him forever.

As she sat in the wagon, next to the closest friend she ever had, Dorothy's memories of her last night with Cloud Dancing once again came to life. Like a Phoenix rising from its ashes, they burned inside her with both the heat of passion and the chill of loss, dredging up old feelings she thought she had already laid to rest.

"You're leaving," Dorothy guessed, reading the expression on his face as they were seated outside his lodge by the fire.

"Yes, at first light," Cloud Dancing replied, turning to look directly into her eyes.

Dorothy studied his face. Something was different. His eyes betrayed a sorrow that she had never seen before and it frightened her. Something about his leaving seemed different this time. Cloud Dancing typically spent a few months during the course of a year in Montana, but he would always return in time for the extinguishing flames of romance to be sparked alive once again. But this time, Dorothy feared they might go out, forever.

She swallowed hard. "You're not coming back are you?" she asked, though her heart already knew the answer.

Cloud Dancing's heart ached in turmoil. When he was in Montana he missed Dorothy and his friends in Colorado Springs, but the longer he was among the Cheyenne, consumed by helping them to survive, Colorado slowly faded from his thoughts. When he returned, the love he felt for Dorothy would come alive again. Yet, it was always accompanied by profound guilt for abandoning his people. In the safety of Colorado Springs, Cloud Dancing began to feel that the joy he experienced was a betrayal of his people and proof that he had failed to fulfill his duty to the tribe. The time had come for a decision. It was a decision that would put an end to the burning question of their future together.

"No…I must live among my people on the reservation now," he replied in almost a whisper.

Dorothy grasped his hands in desperation. "The reservation! No, Cloud Dancing. You can't go to the reservation. You won't survive. Go back to Montana where some of your people still live free. Then you can still visit Colorado Springs." She paused to wipe a tear away with the back of her hand. "I'll never see you again. Please don't do it."

At a loss for words to comfort her, Cloud Dancing edged closer and placed his arm around her shoulder. For several long moments, no words were spoken between them because there were no words that could change what was happening. "My brothers in the north will not be living free for long, and I can no longer stay here. Since Washita I have tried to live in two worlds. I fooled myself into believing that I could help my people with visits to the north while I selfishly refused to let go of Sully and…of you. In doing this, I have let my people down. Your government will only let the Cheyenne survive if they learn the ways of the white man, become like the white man. We saw that at Palmer Creek and it is the same on all the reservations. Yet, even if we change and adopt your ways, we will never be white. And by trying, we will lose our very nature. I must go back and help my people remember where they came from. I need to make sure the children know who they are even as it is being stripped away from them. People who do not know their history are lost. They can be easily manipulated and used by your government. My people will have no future if they do not know their past." The pleading look in his eyes begged her to understand and accept his decision.

"What about…us?" Dorothy asked, her voice quivering.

"Dorothy, I care about you, more than I thought it was possible for me to care about anyone, after Snow Bird. But what we have…have had…is all it can be…all it could ever be." His voice trailed off with emotion.

Dorothy wiped away the stinging tears that threatened to spill over. "Isn't what we have better than nothing at all? You have a choice Cloud Dancing. You're protected in this town. You once told me your true family was here, now that most of Black Kettle's band is gone. Sully, Michaela, the children…me. We're your family now. We can be together in Colorado Springs, and you can visit your people like you've been doing," she pleaded in a weak voice.

"Dorothy, you have meant a great deal to me. You always will, but I cannot stay in Colorado any longer. I should not have stayed this long. Not when I have a duty to my people. I will not be the man I want to be if I do not put the needs of the Cheyenne before my own. My grandfathers taught me that the good of the tribe must always come first. I am ashamed that I have not always followed that path. I can no longer avoid my responsibility to my people."

"I don't want you to go. I don't know what I'll do without you."

"Dorothy, please do not make this harder on both of us. As strong as my feelings are for you, I cannot stand by while the Cheyenne are being destroyed. You must understand that about me by now. I will never have a day's rest if I don't go back and do something. My ancestors will haunt me forever." Cloud Dancing lowered his eyes and his voice. "They already do." He raised his eyes to hers. "And you cannot give up your freedom, your friends, and the Gazette to join me on the reservation. That is not the life I wish for you."

"But what can you do? You'll be living like a prisoner. What good does it do to give up your freedom now? You can't change what's happening."

"Perhaps not, but if I can reach the children and teach them about their great-grandfathers, about who they are, I will be able to rest."

"Please don't do this, Cloud Dancing."

"I must, and I will."

Dorothy's tears seared her cheeks, as they poured nearly uncontrollably from her red-rimmed eyes. Her heart raced and her chin quivered as she tried to form her words. "I…I don't…I don't know how to say goodbye to you."

"Nor I to you," he said. He took her into his arms and held her tight to his chest.

They stayed up all night, Dorothy recalled, talking and holding each other under a wool blanket, intricately woven with blazes of crimson red, shades of rust, and vibrant yellows. The blanket had been a gift to Cloud Dancing from Black Moon's tribe to thank him for helping them secure safe passage to the north. The colors and design brought to mind a fiery sunset and the burning flames of passion. In that night under the clear black sky, they shared the warmth of their love, neither of them wanting it to end. As soon as the sun peeked over the mountains, they would be letting go of something special, something neither of them would experience again. It had been a relationship that crossed not only the boundaries of their differing backgrounds, but also their ability to love again, a feeling both thought was dead inside them forever before they found each other.

Cloud Dancing had left the next morning for the reservation. It became his home for the next few years and he did his best to fight against the starvation and illness that plagued his people. Then one summer the children began to fall ill. Without a doctor to treat them and with a climate that was inhospitable to the plants and roots he needed to make his medicine, Cloud Dancing decided to escape to the north with several young families.

Once in the north, the children thrived and Cloud Dancing settled in with his Northern Cheyenne brothers. Witnessing Sully's struggle to discover where he belonged brought that question to the surface again for him. He never doubted the wisdom of bringing the children north, only his failure to return to Oklahoma and rejoin his people. Now Cloud Dancing had returned to the reservation for good.

Dorothy had lain awake all night deciding whether or not to come on this trip. Even now, she still wasn't sure if she made the right decision or if she knew where her heart would lead her on this journey. She wondered if it would lead her back into the arms of the man she once burned with desire for, or to a place where she could once and for all extinguish her lingering questions about whether they belonged together.

Dorothy knew that, no matter what happened, she had to see this through until the end. Michaela was right. More than anything Cloud Dancing was her friend and she wanted to see him again. She needed to see him again to assure herself that he was going to be all right living on the reservation, that his purpose was being fulfilled, and that he was happy…without her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Michaela watched as the maelstrom of raging emotions clouded Dorothy's face. She knew how hard Cloud Dancing's absence had been on both Sully and Dorothy. Though they both did their best to shield it from view, Michaela knew neither of them had filled the void left by Cloud Dancing's departure. Still, she was glad Dorothy came with them on this trip and glad she was going to have an opportunity to see Cloud Dancing again.

Both women were jolted back to the present by Katie's demanding voice. "When are we gonna stop?"

"It won't be much longer sweetheart," her mother reassured.

"You said that before."

"Yeah," Josef mimicked his sister.

Michaela sighed. "We're almost there. Why don't we play another game?"

"What kind of game?" Josef asked.

Michaela thought for a few moments. "Let's play the alphabet game."

"We already played that one," Katie said wearily.

"All right, how about the simile game?"

"What's that?" Josef asked, his interest piqued by the idea of a new game.

"A simile is when one word is likened to another," his mother provided.

"Huh?" Josef was confused.

"Colleen and Brian enjoyed this game when they were younger. I'll go first to show you how it's played." She paused to consider her turn. "We'll start with slow. As slow as an ant with arthritis. Now Katie, come up with something else that is as slow as."

Katie looked to the sky for an idea. "Uh…as slow as…Oh, I know. As slow as molasses."

"Very good," Michaela praised. "Josef, you're next."

"Uh, I don' know." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Try to think of something that's slow," Michaela offered.

Josef thought for a moment. "A turtle's slow," he replied.

"That's very good. Now, on your next turn, try to use the word in a simile."

"As slow as this day's trip," Dorothy provided, casting Michaela a wry glance.

"Katie, now it's your turn to start a new word."

"I like warm. As warm as a Colorado sunset," Katie offered.

"A fire is warm," Josef proudly said next.

"That's close enough," his mother replied.

"As warm as a Cheyenne crimson red blanket," Dorothy wistfully supplied, her thoughts drifting once again into the now open sea of her memories.

* * *

"Papa, tell us a story," Katie asked, after finishing her supper by the campfire.

Sully narrowed his eyes in concentration. "All right, wanna hear Running Ghost again?"

"No, we heard that lots o' times. Tell us a new story," Josef said, as he moved to squeeze in between his mother and father.

"A new story…hmm," Sully said, pausing to think for a few moments. "What do ya wanna hear a story about?"

"Tell ‘em about buried treasure," Brian offered.

"Tell us a story about a wolf," Katie requested.

"A wolf. All right. I gotta try ta remember one." Sully closed his eyes to pull just the right story from the catalogue of Cheyenne stories in his mind. "I know. I'll tell ya of the Wolf Helper," he replied, tossing a piece of leftover trout to Wolf.

"Wolf helps us," Josef said, eager for the story.

"He sure does, but this story's ‘bout a different wolf."

Katie scooted to sit on the other side of her father, resting her head on his arm. Dorothy and Brian sat across from Sully giving him their complete attention.

Sully began, "Once upon a time there was a band of Cheyenne camping near Sand Creek. A ferocious battle took place very far from home that left two Cheyenne women alone with their children."

"Sully?" Michaela questioned giving him a concerned look. The memories of what happened at Sand Creek and Washita were always close to the surface.

He squeezed her knee. "Don't worry."

From the other side of the campfire, fondly recalling his childhood, Brian watched with amusement as Katie and Josef hung on every word their father spoke. In his mind's eye, he could almost see himself in Josef's place, eyes wide in excitement, eager to hear all the Cheyenne stories Sully knew. By now, Brian was familiar with the tales, having grown up hearing them for most of his life. Legends of brave Cheyenne warriors and mystical animals were emblazoned in his memory bank waiting for the time he could share them with his own children.
Brian wondered if these stories would hold the same meaning to Josef or even his own children as they did to him. Unlike when he was their age, Katie and Josef didn't know any Cheyenne. Would these Indian legends telling the ancient history of the Cheyenne people, that had been passed down for generations, seem as foreign as mere fairy tales about kings and dragons in far away lands?

Brian was glad they were taking this trip, glad that his siblings would meet the people their father thought of as his family, but he was worried reservation life had changed the Cheyenne he knew. It saddened him that they were not a part of Katie and Josef's life. He remembered how much he learned from them and the fun he had visiting their village with Sully when he was little. By the time he had children who were Katie and Josef's age, he wondered if there would be any Cheyenne left to visit. Brian shook himself to banish these last thoughts from his mind and turned his attention back to the story already in progress.

"The weather had turned bitter cold. As darkness fell, the temperature dropped, the winds intensified, and the women grew more concerned. They needed to find their way back to their homes soon because they would not survive the winter out all alone far from their tribe."

"This is a scary story Papa. Pick another one," Katie said, burying her face in his side.

Sully placed his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer. "Trust me, Kates. You're gonna like it." He continued, "The women and children started for home with no food, only their knives, a short-handled axe, and their robes. They traveled on and on, until they reached Smokey Hill River where they feasted on rose berries. They had no idea where their camp was or what direction to head so they just followed the river. One night, after they had been traveling for many days, they came upon a bluff near the riverbank. They sought shelter in a hole in the bluff barely big enough to hold them. It was so cold they wondered if they would make it through the night in the little shelter."

"Are they gonna get home Papa?" Josef interrupted.

"Josef, give your father a chance to tell the story," Michaela urged. She rose to lift the kettle from the fire to make tea for the adults and hot cocoa for the children. Brian, having heard this story before, helped her fill the tin cups and passed them around the campfire. Dorothy remained still, listening as intently as the children.

Sully went on. "They laid their robes all around them for warmth. In the middle of the night, a wolf came into the hole and lay down beside them. He was big, with a heavy gray and silver coat of fur that kept him warm through the snowy winter nights. As he turned to acknowledge the women who shared his den, the Cheyenne say the women felt his gleaming yellow eyes piercing right through them. Though afraid of the wolf, the women relaxed once they saw it resting peacefully. The next morning they started on and the wolf followed close, yet kept its distance."

"Is the wolf gonna sniff the ground and follow the people's tracks?" Josef interrupted again. "Like our wolf does?"

Sully smiled at his son, ignoring the interruption. Reaching for a cup of tea, he continued. "The women often stopped to rest, their feet sore and their moccasins worn. Whenever they rested, the wolf lay down nearby. At one of their stops, the older woman spoke to the wolf as if he was a person. ‘Oh wolf, try to do something for us. We and our children are hungry,' the woman told the wolf." Sully looked up to interject, "The Cheyenne believe that some people can talk to and understand the language of the wolves and this woman did." He continued with the story. "The wolf seemed to listen to her words and rose to his feet and took off. A little while later the wolf returned and led them to the carcass of a buffalo surrounded by a circle of many wolves. Despite their sore feet and stiff limbs, the women started to walk fast toward the carcass, for here was food. A silent audience of wolves sat waiting; they were not feeding on the carcass."

"Why didn't the wolves eat the meat?" Josef asked.

"Why do you think?" Brian asked them.

"They were letting the women and children eat first," Katie replied.

"That's right," Sully said. "The women feasted on buffalo meat and filled their packs with meat to carry for the trip. Once the women left, the wolves feasted on what remained of the carcass. For the next several days the women walked and the wolf trailed along beside them. When they slept, they made a bed of willows and grass for the wolf to sleep on."

"One night, the women heard a loud noise outside their shelter. It was like a sharp scream that penetrated the peacefulness of the night. The sound wasn't familiar, but it grew louder as the echoes rippled through the air. The women feared it was coming closer." Katie and Josef had their heads buried on each side of their father, scared for the women.

"Outside they heard the pack of wolves approaching their camp, the leaves of the soft forest bed crinkling beneath their light footsteps. A thick haze from the cold blanketed the moonlight so that the women couldn't see into the night. They could only hear the noises, coming closer and closer." Sully paused, lowering his voice in deference to the impending danger. "As a screech rang out so close it was nearly deafening, it sent shivers through the women and children. In fear, they gathered their belongings, preparing to run. But, just as the older woman was leaving, she turned back at the growls and cries behind her to see the wolves attacking the family's unknown predator."

"Where's the wolf? Is he hurt?" Josef asked

"The wolf's fine. In fact, the next morning, while the women and children were breaking their new camp, the wolf came toward them and lay down to rest in their camp. The elder woman spoke to the wolf again, ‘Wolf, take pity on us. Help us to find the trail of our people.' The wolf trotted away. When he came back he led them to an old camp where there were sticks standing in the ground, and on each stick hung a sack of meat."

"Why was the meat on a stick?" Katie asked.

"So the animals wouldn't get it," Josef guessed.

"That's part of it," his father said. "The Indians left them on sticks for members of the tribe who had lost their way, so they could have food and find their way back to camp."

"Were the sticks left by their family? Josef asked.

"Yeah. Now the women had plenty of food. They built a shelter with a place for the wolf. The next day, the woman asked the wolf for help in finding their camp. The wolf went away, but he was not gone long. When he came back, he led the women to the point of a high hill where they saw a large Cheyenne camp on the river below. The women ran down to the camp, leaving the wolf behind. After the women had eaten, the older woman took meat, and told the people that a wolf had led them to the camp, and she was going back to give him something to eat. After the wolf had eaten, she said to him, ‘Now you have brought us to the camp, you can go back to your old ways.' Late that evening, the woman went up the hill again to see if the wolf was there, but he was gone. She saw his tracks going back the same way that he had come. The women and children went on to live happily with their family and the wolf lived happily with his family."

"Good story, Papa," Katie said with a yawn.

"Why didn't the wolf stay with the Indians?" Josef asked.

"The wolf went back to his pack," Sully answered, his hands wrapped around the warm liquid. "Among the Cheyenne, wolves are one of the most respected animals and are never killed. The Cheyenne believe the wolves are brave protectors and guides for the lost."

"They look out for people, like our wolf looks out for us," Katie added.

"But our wolf stays with us," Josef said.

"Yes, he does, but maybe that wolf had a family to get back to and he was just helping the Indians find their way home," his mother provided.

"I'm glad Wolf stayed with us," Josef said, reaching out to pet Wolf who had curled up at his feet.

"Me, too," Sully replied, scratching Wolf behind the ears.

Josef looked back at his father. "But how can a wolf understand what the lady was sayin'?"

"Joe, wolves understand more than ya think, maybe not in our words, but by sounds and how we act. It's more about us learnin' ta understand the wolf that's important. Wolf'll watch out for you if you pay attention ta him," his father replied.

"Is that a true story Papa?" Katie asked.

"They say it's true. Tellin' these stories is how the Cheyenne pass down their history," Sully said, pausing to take a sip of tea. "I heard this one in Black Kettle's village. We gotta remember these stories. The Cheyenne believe that the stories are the very lives of the people."

"Sully, how did you ever learn so many Cheyenne stories," Dorothy asked.

"From livin' with ‘em and hearin' ‘em tell the children these stories. I always hoped ta have kids to tell ‘em to one day," he replied, as he stroked his son's honey brown hair. Sully lingered over his tea, enjoying the feel of his children cuddled close beside him and his wife's head resting on his shoulder. The conversation had died down, and the children's bodies had grown heavy, telling him they would soon be asleep. The air was cool, but still, and the comforting smell of burning pinewood embers permeated the campsite. Sully's eyelids started to grow heavy when a night bird erupted into song, singing its heart out, urgent and feverish.

Josef jolted from that state between waking and sleeping, rubbing his eyes. "What's that noise? It's the same noise as in the story," he said, frightened.

"Just a night bird lookin' for somethin' to eat," his father replied. "It's time we get you two ta sleep."

But all this talk of Indians had gotten Josef thinking. He turned to face his father. "Papa, are you a half-beed?"

"Josef," Michaela uttered, taken aback.

Sully held up his hand letting her know it was all right. "It's half-breed son and no I'm not a half-breed. Where did you hear that?"

"Jimmy Baker says you're a half-breed," Josef told him.

"Do you know what that is?" Sully asked in an even tone.

"No, but I think it's bad."

"Why do you think it's bad?"

"'Cause Jimmy says it to be mean."

"Half-breed is what folks call someone who has one parent who's Indian and the other white," Sully explained. "It's meant ta hurt ‘em, but there's nothin' wrong with havin' parents o' different races."

"That's all. They're half Indian?" Katie said, now fully awake.

"That's all," Michaela chimed in.

"Where are your parents, Papa?" Katie asked.

"They passed on a long time ago, Katie."

"Are they with Grandma in heaven?"

"Yeah, they're up there," Sully replied vaguely, looking toward the sky.

"They weren't Indian?" Josef asked.

Sully chuckled. "No, they were from England."

"Papa, how'd you meet Cloud Dancing?" Katie's head lolled against his shoulder.

"He found me a long time ago, before I met your ma. I lived with him and his people for a while."

"He found you? Were ya lost?" Josef asked.

"Yeah, Joe, I was lost."

Josef leaned over and put his head in his father's lap drifting back into his drowsy state. "I'm glad he found you."

"So am I," Michaela agreed, taking his hand in hers.

"Is Cloud Dancing really my Cheyenne father?" Katie was struggling to stay awake as her eyes grew heavy.

"Yeah. Cloud Dancin' is like a brother ta me. The Cheyenne believe that the brother of the father is also the father. So he's like a father to both you and Josef."

"So if he is my father, too, doesn't that make me and Joey half-breeds since Mama's white?"

"Uh…well…not exactly," Sully replied.

Michaela noticed the children fighting their exhaustion to stay awake so she started to rise. "Enough questions for tonight. It's time for bed."

"Night, Papa," Katie said, hugging him tight.

"Night, my sweet girl," Sully replied.

Josef gave his father a hug then reached for his mother's hand, ready for sleep.

Go to Chapter 3...

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Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

The next day, Sully roused everyone before dawn, re-loaded the wagon, and assured that they were on their way before the first rays of faint gray light filled the sky. With much ground to cover on this day, the adults took turns steering the wagon toward the forest, the first shift belonging to Dorothy and Brian, while Michaela and Sully led the way on horseback.

The melodic, fluty song of a western tanager serenaded the travelers as they headed south through acres of deciduous woodlands. As the hours passed, the sun climbed through the sky, dappling the ground with light between the branches of the trees. A crisp wind rustled the leaves, creating a delicate dance of light and shadows on the ground beneath the wagon. Only the sounds of a chorus of birds welcoming the day permeated these early morning hours of the ride, as each person, mesmerized by the flashes of light illuminating the way, seemed lost in their own thoughts.

In the distance, an occasional mountain rose out of the flat grassy landscape demanding to be noticed. Standing tall and proud, its presence evoked a sense of peaceful reassurance to the travelers. In a world that moved too fast and embraced perpetual change, the mountains represented a reassuring constant. Like a compass, they served as nature's most impressive point of reference to guide both wandering men and beasts along their journey.

"Can you imagine losing all of this?" Brian was the first to break the silence as he drove the wagon through a grove of tall aspen trees.

"No, I can't," Dorothy replied, her eyes roaming from the thick base of a giant aspen up toward the sky, the top of the tree out of sight to the naked eye. She was struck by how much she now cared about the land. Before she met Cloud Dancing, she took the natural beauty of the trees, mountains, and streams for granted. It never occurred to her to question their destruction in the name of progress, for in her view, the land existed for man's use and benefit. The notion of man having a responsibility to give back to the earth was as foreign as the Cheyenne were to her when she first arrived in Colorado Springs. In a few short years, Cloud Dancing had turned all her long-held beliefs inside out. He taught her to value the precious gifts of the earth and instilled in her a desire to protect some parts of this vast wilderness for future generations. Just last year, she published an editorial in The Gazette urging restraint in man's appetite for development. As she thought of this now, she smiled to herself at how proud Cloud Dancing would have been. "I'm glad Sully will have a say in what they do with the forests around here. Some of these trees look to be hundreds of years old," she said.

"They are," Brian noted, his eyes searching each tree as if trying to imagine the landscape without them. "I'm real glad you came with us, Miss Dorothy."

Dorothy hesitated before answering. Her memories stirred feelings she had long thought been put to rest. With each passing day, this trip became more difficult. The long days in the wagon had been exhausting both physically and mentally. Hours spent alone with her thoughts caused Dorothy to worry she had made the wrong decision in joining Michaela on this trip. Rather than feel joy about visiting with an old friend, she was nervous and anxious. Tormented and confused by her emotions, she found it harder and harder to greet each new dawn. Yet, she feared the hardest part still lay ahead.

"I am too, Brian," she finally said, her voice catching with emotion. Even as she spoke, she doubted the truth of her words.

"Are you worried about the Gazette?" Brian asked, sensing some unease in her.

"A little," she replied. "But, I'm sure Preston managed to get the last issue out. I just hope nothing important happens at home that we'll miss reporting on while we're gone."

"Not much'll happen. Maybe someone will get engaged or have a baby or some new business will come to town," Brian relayed, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. "Just the same ol' things that always happen around Colorado Springs."

Dorothy noticed the slight edge to his voice and waited a few moments before speaking. "Brian, don't you think it's time you moved on from The Gazette?"

"What do you mean?" Brian turned his eyes from the road to face her, not sure whether to be insulted by her presumption or relieved at her insight.

"You're a grown man with a college education. You have experience working at The Boston Globe and you've been published in The New York Times. Isn't it time you wrote more than the daily happenings in Colorado Springs?"

"I do write more than that," he said defensively, as he tightened his grip on the reins. "I had two articles published in The New York Times last year. The Denver Chronicle published my article on Charles Elliott Perkins buying The Red Rocks and how he's leaving it alone so it can be enjoyed by the public."

"Brian, don't get me wrong. I love having you at The Gazette, but it can never take full advantage of your talent. Though the paper has grown with the town, the articles are still provincial in nature. There's nothing to rival the scope of The Times or The Globe." Dorothy hesitated, gauging his reaction before continuing. "I sense you're restless. You have been for some time now. Maybe you should think about taking a job in Denver or in another larger city."

"I don't want to leave Colorado Springs," Brian said in barely a whisper.

"Because of Sarah?"

"Yeah." He hesitated, before adding, "And my family."

"Do you want to marry her?"

"Sometimes I think I do, but other times, I don't think I'm ready to get married yet. Besides, I want to experience more of the world before I get married, and I can't do that from my own front porch."

"Have you talked to your ma or Sully about how you're feeling?"

"No."

"Well, for goodness sakes, why not?"

Brian's hands were wet with perspiration, and he was having trouble holding onto the reins. Lately, conversations with Sully, more often than not, turned into arguments. It was hard to admit the tension to himself let alone share it with Dorothy, so he just shrugged. "They like having me nearby. They've only just gotten used to my not living at the homestead," he chuckled.

"All parents want their children close. When my girls married and moved away, it was difficult for me, but I knew it was time for them to build their own lives. Michaela and Sully know the time will come when you need to carve out your own place in the world and they'll support you in whatever you decide to do. You know that don't you?"

"I guess."

"Sometimes it's easier to talk with someone who's not family. Someone who is more removed from the situation. You can talk to me Brian. I'd like to help you if I can."

Brian hesitated as he shifted the reins to one hand and wiped his sweaty palm on his pants. As he considered her offer, Brian thought Dorothy was someone he could confide in. Their years of working together at the Gazette had forged a warm bond between the two, despite the age difference between them. And, he hadn't felt comfortable talking with anyone else. He had avoided sharing his feelings with Sarah and his mother because he didn't want to upset them. The one time he tried to approach his father, they ended up quarreling about a new business coming into town, causing Brian to forget the original reason he wanted to speak with him. On several occasions he tried to talk with Matthew, but his brother had been so busy lately, building his law practice, and in his relationship with Clara, that they never seemed to find the time.

"I want to get married and have a family someday. And I think I'd like to write a book, but I also want to travel and see new places. I want to see electric lamps, ride in a streetcar, and use a telephone." His voice rose with the excitement he was feeling as he thought about the forward march of progress.

"That's only natural at your age," Dorothy supplied.

"But I don't wanna lose Sarah," Brian said. "I wish…"

"What do you wish?"

"I wish I could just take some time to travel and see the world without having to give up what I have here," he replied.

"You don't have to give it up, but you might grow to find that you don't want the same things you thought you did before you left. Either way, you don't want to wait too long or you might live a life wondering what could have been; a life of memories laced with regret." She lifted her head and seemed to search the horizon for an escape from the words she would next admit. "Like me." Dorothy's voice grew faint and shaky with her confession. She stared blankly ahead, lost in her own memories, her heart lingering on her own regrets.

"You once told me you always dreamed of being a writer and an editor, and now you are. You've written a book that was published, and you're the editor of your own newspaper. You've accomplished so much. What do you regret?"

"Many things Brian. Many things." Dorothy stared out at the trees unsure about continuing. After a moment, she did. "I endured Marcus's beatings for far too long. I thought I was protecting my children, and instead I created a home that my children couldn't wait to leave. Not one of them has come back to see me, in all this time. Well, all except Tommy and you know how that turned out. They have their own lives and they don't look back. I regret that."

"What would you have done differently if you could?"

"I'd like to think that I would have packed up the children and left Marcus when the beatings first started, but truth be told I'm not sure whether that would have led to a better or worse life for me and my children." Dorothy could see Brian struggling with the reins as he became distracted by his thoughts, so she took hold of them. "The only thing I know for sure is you have to follow your heart and do what feels right at the time. Brian, I believe you know what you want to do, but you're trying to talk yourself out of it because you feel that's what others want you to do. Am I right?"

"I wouldn't exactly say I know what I want, but yeah, it's kinda like you say."

"Brian, you can't live your life to please other people. If you try, you'll end up bitter and filled with regret. You have to live the life that will make you happy. Look at your folks. They have always followed their own path. They'll understand whatever choice you feel you need to make. Talk to them. Let them help you figure out what you want to do."

"I'll think about it, but please don't say anythin' to them yet. Let me," Brian urged.

"Of course."

"Thank you, Dorothy."

"You're welcome." The two rode through the old growth forest in companionable silence until the rustle of the sleeping children in the back of the wagon made them aware of each other once again. The children had taken full advantage of the softer terrain to make up for the hours of sleep their father robbed from them early that morning. "Katie is so excited about seeing Cloud Dancing again. Even though Josef doesn't remember him, he's excited, too. You must be excited about seeing him again," Brian assumed.

Dorothy shifted uneasily in her seat. "Yes, it will be good to see him again."

"Do you think the two of you'll ever get married?"

At the word married, Dorothy nearly steered the wagon off the road. "Whoa. Sorry. No, Brian, we'll never get married."

"Why not? You love each other, don't you?"

"Yes. But…that was a long time ago. Now, our lives have gone in different directions and we're different people than we were back then."

"No, you're not. You're both still the same."

"Just like what you're trying to figure out with Sarah…Cloud Dancing and I found out we couldn't have what we both needed individually and still be together," she said in a sorrowful tone.

"Maybe someday things'll be different."

"I hope someday they will."

"It's hard to figure out what the right thing is for you and to also fit another person into that. Maybe what's right for you isn't right for the other person. Say I leave to travel, and Sarah doesn't want to wait. I might have to choose between doing something I really want to do and losing something else I really want. How do you decide?"

"You can only do what's right for you and trust that the other things will fall into place. I wanted Cloud Dancing to stay in Colorado Springs with me. I was content with our relationship as it was. Cloud Dancing wanted to return to the reservation to be with his people. I was very hurt and angry after he left, but I've come to know that he needed to do this to stay true to himself. It wasn't easy to accept and it's not going to be easy to see him again, but it was the only decision he could make. What happened between us wasn't all his fault. I wasn't prepared to give up The Gazette to join him on the reservation." Dorothy shifted the reins to one hand and placed her hand on Brian's shoulder. "It seems we both have issues we're struggling with on this trip. If you remember only one thing I tell you, remember this. If you follow your heart and stay true to yourself, you'll make the right decision, even if it means giving up something that means a great deal to you."

* * *

"Michaela, what can I do to help with supper?" Dorothy asked. She poured the water she had collected from the stream into the copper pot by the fire. A small pile of vegetables lay at Michaela's side and Dorothy watched her friend as she methodically peeled the carrots.

Michaela stilled the knife over one of the carrots and looked up. "I have everything under control." She lowered her head again to scrape the knife across the carrot in short determined strokes. "These carrots and potatoes are the last of the vegetables we brought from home. From now on, we'll have to keep an eye out for vegetables growing wild."

"On my way back from the stream, I saw some wild onions. I'll go pick some to add to what you got there," Dorothy offered.

"Thank you, Dorothy," Michaela said. "Sully and Brian should return any moment, and I have the rabbit already cooking over the fire."

Dorothy walked off toward the woods to collect the onions while Michaela finished cleaning the carrots. Just as she was about to reach for a potato she felt an arm around her waist and warm lips against her cheek. "Sully," she said with a gleam in her eye. "I'm glad you're back."

"Me, too," he replied.

"Papa!" Katie yelled in excitement at seeing him back from work. Sully crouched down to hug Katie, and then Josef, who stood next to his sister.

"Supper almost ready? I'm starved," he said, rising to his full height and reaching for a carrot.

Michaela grasped his hand before he touched the vegetable. "We need them all for supper. It won't be too long now. Did you and Brian have a good day?"

Sully leaned against the makeshift table that Michaela had set up to prepare supper. "The site they wanna build on has so many types o' trees, some hundreds o' years old, an' nestin' areas that'Il be destroyed if that lumber mill is allowed ta build there. Thing is, the land they're lookin' at is too steep for operatin' a mill. If I can suggest a different site, I might be able ta convince ‘em ta move."

"Do you think they'll agree to build in a different location?"

"If I convince ‘em the land they got their eye on is no good." He picked up a potato and began tossing it from one hand to the other. Sully was full of restless energy, his mind racing with ideas about how to protect the forest. Noticing his wife's outstretched hand that beckoned him to return the potato, his mouth turned up into a playful smirk.

"Sully, the potato please." Michaela stood facing him with her hand still outstretched.

Sully stepped a few paces away. "Come ‘n get it."

She wrinkled her brow, convinced she misunderstood him. "Sully, really. Give me the potato. We only have two left."

He wiggled it slightly in front of him in a taunting fashion like you would wave a stick at a dog, daring her to take it from him. "We can still have it for supper. You just gotta get it from me."

Michaela wiped her brow with the back of her hand with a sigh. After the day's long ride, worrying about the diminishing food supply, and settling petty squabbles between the children, she was not in the mood for any high jinks. "Sully, I don't have time to play games."

"We're on vacation, Michaela. Nothin' wrong with havin' a little fun."

Michaela grew flustered. "Sully, you give me that potato or…or…we'll all be eating burnt supper."

A mocking chuckle left his throat. "Won't be the first time."

She flashed him a scornful look that, on the exterior, conveyed her dislike for the remark, though inside she could not deny the truth it held.

Katie and Josef hid their faces in their hands unable to hide their giggles as they watched their parents.

Under the watchful eye of her children, Michaela took a few tentative steps closer to her husband and reached for the tuber in his hand. At the precise moment her fingers reached it, Sully jumped back. When Michaela closed the distance between them, eyeing him levelly and mentally designing a strategy for getting the potato back, Sully tossed the potato to Katie.

"Think quick, Kates."

"Get it from me Mama." Katie was pleased to be part of their game.

"Katie, sweetheart, please hand Mama the potato." But Michaela watched in dismay as she tossed it back to her father.

Sully observed Michaela turn and walk toward him, a befuddled expression on her face. When she was within inches of her next attempt, he snickered then quickly handed it to Josef who begged for his turn to join in the game. For the next few minutes, it was looped among the three of them as Michaela ran from person to person trying to retrieve it, without success. The children ran around Sully and ducked under the wagon to keep the potato away from their mother. The giggles of her children and husband were contagious and she gradually joined in the amusement. Realizing the futility of running in circles, Michaela stopped to catch her breath and to devise a strategy for ending the game.

"What kind of example does this set for the children?" she asked Sully, with mock indignation.

With a huge grin on his face, Sully hid the potato behind his back. He loved it when he could wear down his wife's seriousness and bring out her playful side. It was easier to do when he could take her away from her practice and away from her responsibilities in Colorado Springs.

"We're teachin' ‘em that there's a time for laughin' an' havin' fun," he replied.

"There is a time for having fun. It's just not while supper is being prepared."

"Why not?"

"Sully," she pleaded. "Please give me the potato." She hoped to wear him down with a desperate tone of voice, but it didn't work.

Sully held it high over his head as she approached and reached for his hands. On her tiptoes, Michaela strained to get it, but couldn't. Sully continued to wave it out of reach. A reluctant smile crept across her face as she began to jump up for the potato. After several feeble attempts, both she and Sully were laughing so hard they could hardly breathe, while the children's fits of giggling left them barely able to stand.

Nearly out of breath, Michaela stepped back and put her hands on her hips in an attempt to be serious. "Sully, give me that potato now or I'll…I'll…"

"You'll what?" he said with a self-satisfied smile.

"Or she'll tickle you, Papa," Josef offered, knowing that he couldn't hold onto anything when his father tickled him.

"Why thank you, Josef. What an excellent idea." She turned to Sully with a mischievous grin.

"You wouldn't dare," he said.

"Why not," Michaela teased as she inched closer.

"You just wouldn't," he supplied with a confident facade.

"Oh, I wouldn't?" Her tone grew more serious at clearly being challenged. "I want that potato," Michaela said in a soft yet demanding voice.

Sully backed away slowly and held up his hand in gentle protest. "Michaela," he warned, reading her determined expression. His tough exterior was slowly crumbling as he tried to stifle the chuckles that rumbled from his throat. Sully stopped short when he found himself backed against the wagon, his only means of escape now blocked.

"What's going on?" Brian asked. He joined his siblings and Dorothy, who had just returned with the wild onions, and was wondering the same thing herself.

"Mama's gonna tickle Papa if he doesn't give her back that potato for supper!" Katie exclaimed.

"Yeah," Josef added. "Go on Mama! Get ‘im."

Entertained by the children's enthusiasm, and rather quite interested in seeing if Michaela could actually get that potato back, Brian and Dorothy joined the children on the sidelines, laughing and encouraging Michaela in her little game, her cheering section now four strong.

Michaela's fingers crept up Sully's waist, gently at first, her touches so slight they hardly disturbed his sturdy facade. "Are you going to give me the rest of our supper or do I have to go further?"

Sully enjoyed his wife's attention, but a slight flutter of anxiety bubbled up inside him when he considered Michaela could completely embarrass him with their private secret, if she dared. Hard as it was, he tried to keep his composure a little longer. As her fingers intensified their movements in exactly the spots that were his greatest weakness, Sully twitched at her touch, but held his ground. He could have stilled her hands at any time, but was curious to see how far she would go. He expelled the breath he was holding, releasing at first, low rumbling chuckles that only deepened as he clenched his jaw shut in utter determination not to admit defeat with the laughter that built inside him. Feeling himself losing control, Sully closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to contain his laughter, trying to will himself to appear unaffected by the tickling. He could not. Michaela burrowed her fingers into his stomach causing him to double over. A roar came up from the bottom of his stomach until the whole of his midsection shook with laughter as he pleaded with her to stop. Finally, hoping to get relief and a chance to catch his breath, he tossed the potato to Katie. To his surprise, Michaela didn't let up.

"Stop," he pleaded, between fits of laughter. "Stop…I…don't…got…it."

"You started it, so you're the one who has to end it." Michaela, who was laughing now too, didn't let up on her tickling. Doubled over with convulsions of laughter, Sully fell forward onto his knees, bringing her down over him. Now they both were laughing, loud and deep cries of amusement that wouldn't stop. Sully grabbed hold of her hands and held them away, but still too exasperated to put up much of a fight, he allowed Michaela leeway to nudge him to the ground with her body and pin him down. Michaela couldn't remember having this much fun and, for the moment, all that mattered was making her husband pay for stealing the potato. She forgot all about the spectacle they were making in front of her children, Dorothy and Brian.

"Katie, give your ma the potato," Sully instructed.

"No." Katie shrieked with excitement as she tried, without success, to control her fit of giggles. It was rare she got to see her father at such a disadvantage.

"All right. I'll stop," Michaela said, lowering her head to kiss her husband. Such a kiss in front of the children surprised Sully, and he dropped his hold on her hands to draw her closer. With her hands free, she resumed the tickling.

"I was only kidding," she said with a teasing smile.

"Katie, please!" Sully yelled to his daughter.

"Don't do it, Katie," Brian supplied.

"Get ‘im, Mama. Get ‘im," Josef screamed.

"Looks like you're outnumbered, Sully," Dorothy added.

The children were giggling so hard they could hardly hear what Sully was saying. Even Brian and Dorothy couldn't contain their laughter.

"Katie!" Sully pleaded.

At his plaintive cry, Katie walked toward her parents and handed her mother the potato. Michaela stilled her hands to accept the offer. "Thank you, sweetheart," she lovingly added before turning back to Sully with a smirk of self-satisfaction. As she helped him back upright, he pulled her to him.

"I'll get you for this," Sully whispered in her ear.

Michaela smiled invitingly. "I'm counting on it."

"I didn't know Papa was ticklish. How'd you know?" Josef asked his mother.

"Oh, I have my ways," she replied, giving Sully a suggestive smile before retuning to her supper preparations, with Dorothy's assistance.

After catching his breath and brushing the dirt from his clothes, Sully moved toward Katie. In a deceptive gesture he swung her up into his arms for a kiss then began tickling her.

"Papa, stop," Katie begged.

"I'm gettin' ya back."

"Mama, help," she cried again.

"I'm sorry sweetheart you're on your own. I have to see if I can salvage our supper."

"Get ‘er, Papa!" Josef cheered, not wanting the fun to end.

"But it's your turn now, Joe!" Brian called as he caught his little brother and tickled his ribs until he squealed.

* * *

Josef was alone. His father and Brian were at work, his mother and Dorothy were occupied with chores around the campsite, and Katie was reading under a tree. Several hours ago, he had grudgingly coaxed her into playing hide-and-seek, but she soon grew tired of the game, insisting that Josef go play by himself and leave her alone. Frustrated at having no one to play with, and bored with being so far from home with nothing to do, he walked to the edge of a deer path along the perimeter of the campsite looking for amusement. He knelt down to pick up a stick that was lying on the ground and entertained himself by drawing pictures of animals in the dirt. He drew a wolf, an elk, and a hawk. All were likenesses from the collection of carved figurines his father had made him. Whenever he had ventured too far away, his mother reminded him to stay where she could see him. For the most part he obliged, but then he saw it.

Through bush and underbrush, and amidst the heavy hanging branches that shielded the woods from the day's heat, a magnificent old oak tree lay across the forest floor with what remained of its limbs sticking out on all sides. From the black crumbled bark, the bird droppings staining its trunk, and the variety of wild mushrooms that had taken hold, it was clear the tree had been down a long time. Whether it was disease or lightening that had befallen this giant of the forest, he wasn't sure, but at the sight of it, the wheels in his head began to turn, transforming the tree into a playground of adventure.

Josef ran into the dense forest to explore the oak tree that, in his eyes, looked ripe with possibilities for excitement, on a day that began with no such promise. On his heels, Wolf trailed close behind.

Lost in his little boy world of wonder and imagination, Josef made the tree his own, entertaining himself with the bounty of nature. He climbed onto the trunk that, even lying on its side, had a width that challenged his height. He walked back and forth across its length with his arms outstretched in a balancing act pretending he was stranded on a boat in the middle of the ocean. He raised his hands in the air, busily at work on the sails and ropes that appeared visibly before him on this sea-stranded vessel. Like the fearless treasure-boat captain of his bedtime stories, Josef manned the bow and directed his pirating crew through the raging fury of an ocean tempest that threatened to swallow them alive. "Ahoy," he called out to his first mate. "Wolf, clear the deck and batten down the cargo! We can't afford to lose one cent of that gold in this storm."

Once safely ashore, Josef's pirate ship was transformed into the jungle branches of a tropical forest in Africa. He was a gorilla, the king of the forest, and all the smaller animals of the jungle cowered in his presence. In a show of agility, he swung from the limbs of the tree and brought his legs up to hang upside down. With his feet firmly planted on the trunk, he beat his chest with cupped hands and emitted a loud roar to warn those who might challenge him.

Eventually drained of energy, he climbed down from his perch above the ground and peered into the mouth of the trunk. Years of decay had rotted out its center creating a hollow opening just wide enough for him to fit. It reminded him of the tunnels in the caves near home that he had explored with Brian. After hearing one of his father's stories, Josef remembered begging his brother to show him the caves. Secretly Brian had taken him exploring in the tunnels and made him promise not to tell anyone about it. Josef kept that promise. He didn't tell a soul, not even Katie.

"There's gold buried at the other end of the tunnel," Josef said as his imagination took hold. "Looks like I'm the only one small enough to get it, but I gotta work fast ‘cause them bank robbers who we been trackin' ta here are gonna come back for it soon." The beetles and spiders that had taken up residence in the tree scrambled for cover while Josef enlisted them to help him defend the cave from the robbers. He was the sheriff and the insects his trusted posse. His deputy Wolf stood guard at the base of the fallen log. Josef crawled into the hollow of the tree with one hand clutching tight to a stick, a makeshift gun and his only weapon against the armed band of outlaws. Creamy coffee colored toadstools dotted the opening with their caps unfolded like tiny umbrellas. Black crumbling bark fell on his head and he was encased within the dark warmth that carried the scent of sweet aged wood.

"Get back, you can't have the gold. I'm gonna find it and take it back to the bank, or my name ain't Sheriff Josef Sully!" the little boy declared to himself before calling back a command to his loyal sidekick. "Deputy Wolf, keep a look out for them robbers!" After years of decay, tiny holes had rotted straight through the trunk allowing sunlight to seep into the darkness of the hollow lighting a path further into the heart of the old tree. On his hands and knees, he followed the sun's rays deeper into the trunk, unconscious of his hand moving near his face to swat at a cloud of gnats. He emerged moments later from the trunk clutching several rocks in his hand as if they were precious stones. Flecks of soft wood and crumpled leaves clung to his hair, freckling his face.

"I found the gold," he told the birds and the squirrels in the nearby trees as he shook off the debris that besmirched his appearance. "Now we gotta track the robbers and bring ‘em to the nearest town to be locked up," he told Wolf. Josef circled the log's massive perimeter, behind its broad branches and broken limbs, in search of any sign of the criminals' escape route. He wandered a few steps into the forest depths before catching site of the bandits' tracks. They were so freshly imprinted in the soft leaf-bed of the forest floor that even in his imagination they seemed too real to be true.

The little boy almost tripped as Wolf ran in front of him barking and nudging him back to the tree. Josef enjoyed when Wolf played along. "The cave is safe for now. We gotta go find the robbers and bring ‘em in before they get away. C'mon, Wolf, this way!"

Wolf tilted his head, as if puzzled, and studied the boy as he scurried off in hot pursuit.

Distracted by his world of make believe, Josef skipped along deeper into the woods, happy and carefree. He stopped short at the sight of fresh animal tracks. "Look, we got ‘em," he told Wolf in amazement. Now Josef was overcome with excitement. By following real tracks, he could practice all the things his father had taught him about surviving in the woods – identifying animal tracks, using impressions in the dirt and broken branches to track, finding food, and how to find your way so you don't get lost. At seven, Josef was adventurous and confident in his abilities.

"C'mon," Josef called to Wolf who began to lag behind.

With a whimper, Wolf followed along. Though he was older and enjoyed a less active life now, Wolf took his job as protector of the Sully family seriously. Josef walked with Wolf by his side disappearing into the dense woods, following the tracks of an unknown animal.

Josef followed the tracks uphill into an old-growth forest. The spring rains had left a thick coating of moss near the base of the trees. In an imitation of his father, Josef ran his hands up and down the bark of a tree looking for claw marks. His interest in the robbers waned, as his curiosity about the identity of the animal, whose tracks he followed, grew more intense. His father had told him that bears were known to leave claw marks on trees and even bite the bark sometimes. "No claw marks here, Wolf. I guess this can't be no bear we're chasin' ‘cause Papa says they leave big marks from scratching on the trees and rub off bark leaving their scent." He thought of how proud his father would be when he told him of the tracks and the identity of the animal when he found it.

As Josef crept up to examine another tree for claw marks, Wolf ran in front of him with a howl. Finally, Wolf was joining in the game. When Wolf grabbed his sleeve in his mouth and tried to pull him back, the little boy fell to the ground in a fit of giggles. "I guess you're right, Wolf," he laughed. "I can see the tracks a lot better when I'm on the ground. Well, it isn't a bear. What do you think it is, Wolf?" A mountain lion? A fox? A wild dog?" The tracks turned downhill and Josef slid a little down the steep slope. "Whoa," he yelled. Wolf walked off to the right where the incline wasn't as steep and made his way down the path until he felt flat ground. Their paths diverged as Josef cut a path through overgrown foliage. Wolf trailed close behind along a clearer path, always keeping Josef in his sight.

Not far from the steep slope, the path opened into a clearing. Wolf stopped short, his ears erect and alert. Josef continued with his pursuit until he caught sight of two tan balls of fur wrestling on the ground. They were two baby cougars with dark, chocolate brown spots that dotted their backs, and beige ringed tails bouncing in the air. They rolled over each other with their bodies going around and around like the spokes of a bicycle. Josef was awed by the sight, but he remembered his father's warnings. He could look, but he couldn't touch the animals in the wild. With a big smile on his face, Josef stood only a few feet from the baby cougars and laughed as they played.

Josef's bursts of laughter at the antics of the baby cougars drowned out the deep growls that rumbled from the belly of Wolf's poised and rigid body. He let out a loud and urgent bark, instantly quelling the child's amusement and alerting him to the two large, yellow eyes perched in the shadowy underbrush of the ridge some fifteen feet above them. Josef froze, and with a piercing screech, the mother cat reared back to take charge, and lunged towards the frightened boy.

Go to Chapter Four...

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