Chapter Thirteen
by Sandi 99

"Just a reminder ... when we get to Cache Creek, your job is over."

"Don't worry about it."

"But that's just it, you see - I do. Your friends may have all the faith in the world in you but I don't trust you for a second. If you do anything to jeopardize that boy ..."

"Don't threaten me."

"Have you thought about what you're going to say to MacBride when you finally meet him? I'm sure there's a part of you that wants to stay out here, ride off into the hills with him. But no ... I'm sure Michaela's lease is a little too tight for that. But then, with a girl like Michaela, who could blame you for heeling when she calls? She's really something ... spirited, fiery, yet remarkably sensual...."

Preston and Sully - Dead or Alive - Part One.
*****************

"Where the devil are we going? I can't see two feet in front of me. Do you have any clue ...?"

Sully reined in his horse and jerked around on its back, silencing Preston with his sudden movement. "I told ya when we first started out, Preston, keep up or else! I got no interest in tryin' ta explain things to you or listenin' to ya complain. Keep your mouth shut or I'll leave ya here."

Preston glanced around at the suffocating blackness and shuddered, involuntarily. "All I'm asking ... Sully ..." he began again, lowering his voice to a more reasonable pitch, "is how you know where to go? I'm not being critical, I can assure you."

Sully nodded ahead of them. "Wolf's picked up a scent. We're followin' him."

"Wolf? How can you even see him? Where is he?" Preston squinted into the night ahead of them.

Sully didn't bother to answer as he urged his horse forward again, guiding the animal over the bumpy, uneven trail. The path was wide enough to accommodate a buggy or wagon, but thick forests stood on either side of them, blocking out any natural light. With the moon concealed behind moisture-laden clouds and rain driving into their faces, any light would have been dim, at best ... but even that would have been better than no light at all. At least the trees sheltered them from the storm slightly, Sully mused, trying to view the situation optimistically. It wasn't an easy state of mind to accomplish with Preston whining behind him. The horses hesitated from time to time, stepping over tree roots criss-crossing the path. Sully wondered how a buggy could have traversed the rough terrain. But Wolf forged on ahead and Sully trusted the animal's instincts. Still, their progress was maddeningly slow. There was nothing Sully could do about it. Tracking at night required caution and patience. Preston, on the other hand, was sadly lacking in both.

He heard the man chuckle, softly, behind him and it scraped along his nerves. Preston seemed to have an aversion to silence. He was either complaining or talking about some mindless event. At that moment, Sully felt like stuffing a gag in the banker's mouth to shut him up.

"You know, Sully, I was just remembering when we went out searching for Noel MacBride and I challenged Hank to that fist fight. I can still recall the look on Hank's face after I knocked him flat on the ground. The oaf had no idea that Preston A. Lodge the third could take care of himself!" He hooted with delighted laughter.

"You took care of yourself all right, Preston - stepped in that bear trap and almost got all of us killed!" Sully snarled.

There was a moment of offended silence before Preston answered him. "I shot MacBride, didn't I? Or have you forgotten that, Sully? If I hadn't, who knows what would have happened? You didn't look like you were equipped to subdue him. When I got there, you were just standing there, defenseless. As I remember it, you'd missed hitting him with your tomahawk and you were at MacBride's mercy. There was no telling what he would have done next."

"MacBride was wounded, Preston. He wasn't about ta do anythin'. You had no reason to shoot him."

"I'm surprised at you, Sully. I thought you'd be thanking me for saving your life. If I hadn't arrived when I did ..."

"Think what you want to think, Preston," Sully interrupted him, his last ounce of patience trickling away with the rain that slid down the exposed skin of his face. "I really don't care. All I care about is findin' Michaela."

For a long time, Preston said nothing and Sully held out hope that the man had finally exhausted his endless supply of subjects. Sully was just beginning to recover enough from his annoyance to focus on something else, when Preston spoke again.

"You and I have never liked each other, Sully, and neither one of us ever tried to conceal it. That might be the only thing I truly admire about you - your total lack of concern over the opinions of others. You've never changed anything about yourself to accommodate anyone else and ..."

"What are ya tryin' ta say, Preston?" Sully demanded.

Preston laughed, mirthlessly, and Sully could hear the smirk in his tone. "Temper, temper. You do have your boiling point, don't you Sully? And I can always make you reach it." He paused to let his gloating sink in, then continued. "I'm saying that, since we're all alone now with no one to impress, we can be honest with each other. I'm well aware of my own reasons for any animosity I might feel but I'd like to know what it is that bothers you so much about me. From the first day I walked into Colorado Springs, you've taken a distinct dislike toward me. Since we have nothing else to do tonight, I thought we might finally get to the truth of the matter. What is it that you find so intolerable about me, Sully? Hmmm? Go ahead ... confess. I can assure you, Sully, you can't hurt my feelings because your opinion isn't one I value all that highly."

He was mocking him now and Sully had no intention of giving Preston the satisfaction of answering him fully. "You don't know when to shut up, Preston," he muttered. "That's reason enough."

Preston laughed again, completely amused, and shook his head. "Sully, Sully, Sully .... You're really something, do you know that?"

"So you've told me," Sully growled.

"Well, since you have no interest in explaining anything to me, let me enlighten you. Let me tell you why I took such an instant aversion to you."

"I really don't care, Preston." Before the man could form another irritating sentence, Wolf stopped abruptly in front of them.

"You see, Sully...."

Sully held up one hand. "Quiet! Wolf's found something."

The animal was whining, sniffing the ground and turning in circles, looking up at Sully then pawing at the earth. Sully dismounted and moved over to kneel down beside him, placing an arm around the wolf's neck. After a moment, Wolf turned his head to lick Sully's face and he cursed, softly.

"What is it?" Preston called out. He remained on his horse, craning his neck to take in the scene.

"Wolf's lost the scent. Can't pick it up again." Sully turned his face up and closed his eyes, letting the raindrops splatter against his eyelids. "It's the rain. Must have washed it away."

"Well, that's just great!" Preston exploded. "Now what do we do?"

Sully ignored the question, as a feeling of nausea churned in his stomach.

Patrick lived in fear that they'd hear him. He had no choice except to follow closely, in case he lost sight of them in the dark. But, by practically trodding on their heels, he was taking a huge risk. Sully was an expert tracker - at least, that's what Luke told him. And that wolf of his would have picked up Patrick's scent, under normal circumstances. Luckily, the wind buffeted him, almost driving him backward but, effectively, concealing his presence. Plus the businessman, that Preston, never stopped talking long enough for Sully to hear anything else.

He could have caught up with them, he supposed, and tried to join them but Patrick knew, instinctively, that Sully would have sent him packing. He'd made it quite clear to Preston that he liked to handle things alone. Patrick still wasn't certain why Sully surrendered and allowed Preston to accompany him - possibly because Preston knew his brother and could be of some assistance - but Sully would view Patrick as being of little use to him. So, he stayed behind them, weaving in and out of the trees on his horse and praying that they wouldn't notice him. More than anything else, Patrick wanted Duncan Lodge captured - for his own personal reasons.

He'd reined in his horse when he'd seen Sully stop and dismount. It was impossible to figure out the man's actions in the dreary, moonless night but Patrick squinted and saw Sully's huddled form as he knelt down on the ground. After that, Preston climbed down from his horse as well and both men took shelter under a tree. Somehow, in spite of the onslaught of rain, Sully managed to light a small camp fire. Patrick had to admire the man's ingenuity. All Patrick could do was pull the wet blanket off the back of his horse and drape it around his shoulders, squatting behind a fallen tree trunk a short distance away. He took great pains to remain downwind, even though this position afforded him little protection from the rain. The last thing he wanted was to have that mangy wolf find him. Patrick didn't trust the animal one bit.

Unfortunately, all he could do was sit there, shivering and waiting. But he was completely convinced that Sully was the only man within a hundred miles who could find Duncan Lodge. And when he did, Patrick was determined to be standing right beside him.

*******************
Daybreak was stroking the angry sky with soothing fingers and Dorothy breathed a sigh of relief. She'd followed her husband without question, even though her clothes were sopping wet and she was chilled through to her very soul. But, if Cloud Dancing believed he could find Michaela, Dorothy would do nothing to impede his search.

Poor Michaela! She could only imagine what that man could be doing to her ... no, she wouldn't allow herself to imagine it. Preston said that Duncan had already raped one girl and he'd killed Vi Patterson, hadn't he? Duncan Lodge was capable of anything - that's what everyone said. Anything .....

When was the last time she spoke to Michaela without anger in her voice? Dorothy couldn't honestly remember. The only thing that she could picture, whenever she tried to visualize the two of them together, was that disturbing argument between them and the furious, hurtful words they'd tossed at each other. At that moment, Dorothy would have given her right arm to recall those words. The fight seemed so unimportant now, so trivial. Her best friend was out there somewhere, struggling to survive. That was the only thing that mattered. If Dorothy ever saw her again .... She stopped her train of thought abruptly, appalled by it. 'When,' she corrected herself, silently, 'when I see her again ....'

Up ahead of her, Cloud Dancing drew in his mount and glanced behind him to look at her. "We need to rest," he told her quietly. "It is almost morning."

Dorothy straightened her shoulders and stuck out her chin, even though every muscle in her body protested. "Don't be stoppin' on my account," she told him, briskly. "I'm fine, Cloud Dancin' ... just fine. I want to keep goin'."

Her smiled at her, gently, and shook his head. "We will stop, but it is not for you. The horses need rest. Now that the rain is over, the sun will come out soon. We need to dry our clothes. If we do not, we will both be sick."

"But ..."

He interrupted her. "How will you be able to help Michaela if your body is not strong? The clothes will dry quickly, once we spread them out on the rocks. You will see."

Dorothy sighed, heavily. He was right, of course. Cloud Dancing always used common sense - well, almost always. Once, when he was in the grip of anguish and grief, he'd raced off without thinking and joined the dog soldiers. He'd paid, dearly, for that mistake. She was still thinking about that terrifying time as she followed Cloud Dancing's instructions and found a spot to remove her clothing. Swiftly accomplishing the task, she ducked out from behind the tree that she'd used as shelter and handed the garments to her husband. He, in turn, passed her a very damp blanket to wrap around her chilled body. He was wrapped in a similar blanket and Dorothy was surprised to see that he'd been able to start a fire. She sat down on a log next to it and rubbed her cold hands over the small blaze. After spreading out her clothes next to his garments, on a large, flat rock, Cloud Dancing moved over to sit down beside her. For a long time, neither one of them spoke.

For her part, Dorothy was wallowing in memories. Sitting next to her husband reminded her of their wedding night. For two mature adults, they'd been awkward and shy with one another. After disrobing in Cloud Dancing's tent, they'd sat together as they did now, wrapped in blankets, afraid to glance at each other. Cloud Dancing, in an attempt to ease the tension, began to recite one of his Cheyenne jokes. The words, when translated into English, didn't make a lot of sense and, as usual, they were far from funny but his efforts alone were enough to coax a laugh out of Dorothy. He'd raised an eyebrow and quipped, "Perhaps it loses something in the translation?" He said the exact same words to her every time he attempted to tell a joke and Dorothy was seized by a fit of giggling. After that, they both relaxed and things unfolded naturally. The rest of the night had been extremely satisfying, for both of them.

How she'd longed to share those stories with Michaela. Not the actual events, of course, but her feelings, her overpowering love for this man all the emotions and secrets that best friends share with one another at these intimate moments in their lives. But she couldn't. She could never bring herself to confide in Michaela. Dorothy hadn't married Cloud Dancing legally and she was certain that Michaela would never be able to accept it or understand.

Sully once cautioned her, when Dorothy had pleaded with him to keep her marriage to Cloud Dancing secret from his wife, against selling Michaela short. "She's got an open mind, Dorothy. She might understand more than you think."

But it was so important to Dorothy that Michaela respect her, that her best friend approve of her, she didn't want to take that risk. Now she realized that Sully had been right - she should have confided in Michaela. But it was too late to right that wrong. Maybe it was too late for everything ... Maybe .... No!

In an effort to keep this unbearable thought away from her mind, she turned toward Cloud Dancing. "Do you think Michaela will be able to forgive me - for not trustin' her, I mean?'

He studied her closely. "Have you forgiven her?"

"Of course I have!" Dorothy reassured him, quickly. "I could never stay mad at Michaela, Cloud Dancin' - not after what's happened."

He nodded. "Then is it not wise to believe that Michaela will feel the same way?" He placed an arm around his wife's shoulders and hugged her up against his side. "Do not worry."

Dorothy snuggled in closer, taking comfort from his embrace and his reassurance. If only she could be as confident right now - about anything. There was only one thing she knew for certain - very little in life was more important than friendship.

***************
Luke stirred as the first hint of morning light filtered in through the window of the Sully homestead. Opening his eyes, he let his gaze roam across his surroundings. He lay on the floor, stretched out on a rug in front of the fireplace. It was his choice to bed down in this, less than comfortable, location. Katie had urged him to sleep in the spare bedroom upstairs but Luke declined, quickly. Everything was already far too complicated. Somehow, being upstairs with the others hardly seemed like a sensible plan.

When Matthew and Brian had first left, the previous evening, he'd been quite relaxed around Katie. The little girl was worried about her mother - naturally - but she seemed relieved too. She'd told Luke that she was glad the secret was out in the open and she didn't need to pretend any longer. It was obvious, from some of the things Katie said, that she had no idea of the danger Michaela faced. The family hadn't told her the full story. Katie kept saying things like "I wonder how they got lost in the woods? Why would that man take Mama out there? What were they doing - seeing some patients?"

Luke could do nothing but shrug and look away from her penetrating stare. "Don't know," he'd mutter. He hated deceiving her but, in this case, telling her the truth was out of the question. But he caught her studying him a few times and he knew that Katie suspected something. She was a bright little girl and it didn't take her very long to figure things out, as a rule. He tried to steer her away from the whole topic, as much as possible.

Then Samantha and her mother had arrived. Sam was as surprised to see Luke as he was seeing her. They'd locked gazes for a brief, awkward moment before dropping their eyes to stare at the floorboards. Luckily Katie was so enthusiastic about seeing her best friend that she'd failed to notice the tension between them. She'd pulled Samantha by one hand, leading her up the staircase toward her bedroom. "I have so much to tell you," Katie had squealed.

A moment later, Katie's bedroom door had slammed shut behind them. Only then did Samantha's mother speak to Luke. He'd turned toward her, smiling slightly, but the smile vanished instantly when he noticed the expression on Myra Bing's face.

"I don't know what you've been told about Samantha," she'd stated, icily, "or how you behave around most girls, but I won't have ya leadin' her on. Sam has been through enough. She don't need someone years older than her, breakin' her heart."

Luke had been dumbfounded. "I'm not leading her on, Mrs. Bing. I don't know what Sam said but ..."

"What she said don't matter," Myra had stated, interrupting him. "Sam's too young to see things clear. But I know different. My daughter would never throw herself at a boy unless that boy was flirtin' with her. And I'm tellin' ya right now ... you stay away from her, hear?"

He'd wanted to defend himself but, judging by the woman's stance and the way she folded her arms across her chest as she stared him down, he knew it would be a futile effort. "Yes, ma'am," he'd agreed, softly.

She'd nodded. "What on earth were Matthew and Brian thinkin' of, leavin' Katie all alone out here ..?" She didn't need to add the words "with you". They were already implied by the momentary silence that hung in the air between them. "Well, I'm here now and I ain't leavin' til that search party returns. So don't be gettin' no ideas."

"Perhaps I should go," Luke had volunteered but Katie and Sam were just bounding downstairs again as he said it and Katie was visibly upset over the suggestion.

"No, Luke! You can't. You promised Matthew and Brian that you'd stay here with me, til they came back. You can't break your promise, Luke."

She ran over to him and looked up at him with pleading, blue eyes. As usual, Luke found it impossible to deny Katie anything. She had him wrapped around her finger and she knew it. "I'll stay," he'd agreed, reluctantly.

She'd thrown her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. "I knew you would!"

He'd glanced over to catch the murderous expression on Samantha Bing's face as she stood at the bottom of the staircase, observing the display of affection. Then his gaze slid toward Samantha's mother. Her eyebrows had been raised and her mouth drawn into a thin, disapproving line as she met his eyes. That set the mood for the rest of the evening, it seemed. Luke had never felt so uncomfortable in his entire life.

He sighed heavily now, as he remembered the scene. Maybe the search party would return to town today, with Duncan Lodge in handcuffs and Michaela safely rescued. He could go back to his mother and his peaceful existence. Dealing with women, of all ages, seemed to be nothing but one colossal headache.

****************
Katie bounced out of bed before Sam had a chance to open her eyes. When she finally rolled onto her back and sat up, Katie was already struggling into her clothes, fumbling with a long row of buttons down the back of her dress and scowling, in frustration. Sam laughed at Katie's expression.

"What's your hurry?" Sam asked the little girl, curiously.

They'd shared Katie's bedroom the night before, giggling together in Katie's over-sized bed long after they should have settled down to sleep. Only when Myra came into the room and threatened them with dire consequences, did the girls surrender to the sleep that tugged at their eyelids. Sam hadn't realized how much she'd missed her friend.

Katie grinned as she answered. "I gotta get downstairs. Luke will be awake by now."

Sam studied her for a minute before climbing out of bed herself. Katie made no move to hide her feelings toward Luke. Ever since Sam had known her, the girl had been quite verbal about her intentions. Katie believed she'd marry Luke someday and she was convinced Luke returned her affections. Up until last night, Sam hadn't paid much attention to Katie's daydreams, certain that the little girl lived in some kind of fantasy that would never come to fruition. After all, Katie was almost half Luke's age. But, during the course of the evening, Samantha changed her mind. Luke practically ignored Sam, obviously embarrassed over the episode in his cabin, but Katie was a different story. He was gentle with the girl, talking to her in soothing, patient tones, his magnetic eyes softening every time he looked at her. It was quite obvious, to any observer, that Katie held a special place in Luke's heart. As the evening progressed, Sam's jealousy grew to insurmountable heights. Finally, when she could no longer stand Luke's rejection or his display of affection toward Katie, she'd announced that she was tired and headed toward the stairsteps. Katie had joined her almost instantly and Sam, temporarily, shoved her wounded ego aside as she enjoyed her friend's animated chatter. This morning, however, at the mention of Luke's name, Sam's envy and bitterness came flooding back to her.

"What's so special about Luke, anyway?" Sam asked her now, her voice sullen and resentful. "He's not even all that good-looking."

Katie had been pulling on one boot and hopping about on the other foot when Samantha issued the statement. She stopped abruptly, losing her balance and stumbling to one side as she stared at her friend, in disbelief. "Of course he is! Luke's the best looking boy in Colorado Springs!"

Samantha shrugged, picking up Katie's mirror and brush from their spot on the dresser. She held the mirror in one hand as she, casually and slowly, ran the hairbrush through her wildly tangled hair. "I don't think so. He's not so great."

Katie's voice was highly offended as she bent back to her task of shoving her foot into the boot. "Well, I don't care what you think. I'm going to marry Luke someday. I love him..." With the boot in place, she bent over to tie up the laces. Her voice was muffled when she added. "And he loves me."

Later, when she looked back on the conversation, Samantha would be ashamed of herself. But, at that moment, she didn't think about Katie's feelings, how cruel her words would sound, or any of the consequences. All she knew was that she was hurting and she wanted someone else to hurt too. She needed to knock Katie off her perch, in an attempt to elevate herself. Sam opened her mouth and the words tumbled into the room with a will of their own. "Luke kissed me, you know. A couple of days ago, at his cabin. We were making supper and he leant over and kissed me."

Katie straightened, quickly, an entire range of emotions playing across her face in less than a minute - shock, disbelief, fear, disappointment and, finally, anger. "You're lying, Sam! Luke wouldn't do anything like that."

Samantha set down the mirror and brush and touched the front of her nightgown, tracing the sign of the cross on her chest with one finger. "Cross my heart, Katie. I swear. Luke and me kissed."

Katie's eyes narrowed as she studied Samantha's face for a long minute, her stare piercing into Samantha's soul. Then her eyes filled with tears. "How could you let him do that? You're supposed to be my friend, Sam. How could you?"

Samantha held up one hand, in self-defense. "Hey, it wasn't my fault. I didn't ask him to do it," she lied. As soon as the words formed, Sam's face grew hot with guilt.

The little girl's bottom lip was trembling now as Katie valiantly fought to keep the tears from spilling onto her cheeks. Sam's heart wrenched and she took a step toward her. "Katie, I'm sorry," she began, fully intending to confess her deception if it would erase the look of pain on Katie's face. "I didn't mean to ..." She reached out to touch Katie's shoulder. "I ..."

Katie jerked away from her. "Don't touch me!" she shrieked. She spun around and stomped toward the bedroom door. As she flung it open, she twisted back to face Sam once more. "I hate you, Samantha Bing! I'll never be your friend again!"

***************
With the early morning sunlight beating down on his shoulders, Hank felt the weariness from their long night of riding easing away from his body. He wasn't sure where they were heading, or why McKay had chosen this particular path to follow, but it didn't make much difference. Hell, he didn't have any better ideas.

McKay held up one hand and the search party came to a halt behind him. He turned to yell out over his shoulder. "We need to rest. Let's take a break."

A mixture of reactions assailed the sheriff as some of the men sighed, in obvious relief, and others grumbled, in disapproval. McKay paid no attention to any of them. He dismounted and took his horse by the halter, leading the animal toward a small stream. The rest of the men followed suit. Once Hank's horse had filled his belly with water, Hank flung the end of the reins around a tree branch and tied them securely. Then he moved over to a moss-covered rock and sprawled down onto it.

"What's your plan ... sheriff?" he asked, squinting up at McKay. His voice was filled with insolent disrespect as he stressed the word 'sheriff' but McKay ignored him.

"My plan, Mr. Lawson, is to follow this trail til we're sure they didn't come this way."

Hank sneered. "How long did ya have ta think, before you came up with that one, McKay?" Several men snickered as McKay glared at him. "Tell me, while we're followin' this trail, what if Duncan is escapin' on a different trail? You thought about that lately?"

"Do you know something that we don't, Lawson?" the sheriff asked, pointedly. "Cause if you do and you got a better suggestion, I'd be happy ta listen to it."

Before Hank could answer, Horace piped up. "Hank don't know nothin'. Never has." The telegraph operator was squatting on the ground, cleaning the barrel of his revolver.

Hank treated the man to a lazy, unconcerned smile. "I know how to shoot a gun, Horace, when the time comes. That's more than I can say for you. Best put that thing away before ya blow your fool head off."

Horace scowled at him and Hank chuckled.

"What are we lookin' for, sheriff?" Matthew asked, cutting through the tension that lay like a thick fog in the clearing. "How can you figure out if they came this way or not?"

McKay rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Loren said that Duncan had a buggy and he loaded the bod ... ah, Dr. Quinn ... into the back of it. Unfortunately, the rain washed away most of the tracks overnight but this trail passes over the spot where the old creek bed used to be, before the logging company damned up the water. The ground will be a lot softer there and the buggy wheels should have made deeper indentations. If we see those tracks, we'll follow them. If we don't, they obviously didn't come this way."

"Well, what are we waitin' for?" Jake demanded. "Let's get movin' again."

McKay nodded and retrieved his horse. Hank abandoned his rock and stood up, anxious to resume the search as well. Just as he took a step forward, Horace brushed past him and bumped him, roughly, with his shoulder. The bartender stumbled backward and the rock he'd been sitting on crashed up against the back of his knees. Hank issued a loud curse and yelled out after Horace. "What in Hell do ya think you're doin'?"

Horace never answered or never turned around as he headed toward the stream. His horse was still standing there, head down, greedily slurping water. Furious, Hank stormed after the man and grabbed him by one arm, spinning him around. "I aughta ...."

Before Hank had an inkling of warning, Horace attacked. His fist slammed into the bartender's mouth, once again sending Hank reeling backward. Hank recovered quickly, a roar splitting the air as he charged. Driving his head into Horace's stomach, he lifted Horace completely off the ground by sheer force alone. The man plunged backward to lie, helplessly, in the mud. Hank fell on his knees beside him and pinned the man down by flinging one arm across his chest. He was practically nose to nose with the telegraph operator as he growled into his face. "I asked ya a question. Ya gonna answer me or do I gotta beat it outta ya? What's your problem?"

Horace rallied, his eyes filled with venom. "Ya wanna know, Hank? My problem is you! For years I've let ya push me around, make fun of me, mess up my marriage. I ain't gonna take it anymore, Hank. I don't know how, and I don't know when, but I'm gonna find a way to get even with ya. I'm gonna find a way ta make ya pay for all you've done to me."

"Yer talkin' crazy, Horace," Hank scoffed. "I ain't done nothin'..."

"Yes you have, Hank. Ya turned Myra against me."

Hank could hardly believe what he was hearing. Did the man actually believe that? "Yeah? Well ... the way I see it, Horace, it was the other way round. Myra was happy workin' for me til you got hold of her and filled her head with ideas. You're the one who turned her 'gainst me."

Horace squirmed beneath the weight of Hank's arm but the bartender refused to release him. "I told ya, Hank," he threatened, ineffectively. "It ain't over yet. One day, I'm gonna make you pay ... for everythin'."

"Well, gentlemen," McKay interjected, his voice harsh with authority. "It won't be today. Mr. Lawson ... release him and get up ... slowly."

Hank looked up at the sheriff and shook his head, in disgust, but he obeyed McKay's instructions. Once Horace was free, he scrambled quickly to his feet, his hands clenched into fists. McKay stepped forward and grabbed onto Horace's arm, subduing him.

"As for you, cool down before I throw you, head first, into that stream over there." Horace looked a little intimidated by McKay's threat. The sheriff's next comment was directed toward both men. "I got enough on my mind without havin' to worry about the pair of you, so stop actin' like a couple of jackasses and get back on your horses."

Horace obeyed without any further protest but Hank squared off against McKay, his jaw clenched, defiantly. McKay raised his chin and the men stared into each other eyes, in a mutual show of strength. "Do it now ... Mr. Lawson," McKay said slowly and ever so quietly, "or else I'll be forced to put handcuffs on you and ask one of these men to escort you back to my jailhouse." When Hank failed to answer, McKay shrugged slightly. "It's up to you."

Hank weighed his options. At that moment, getting on the wrong side of Terrance McKay wouldn't work to his advantage. If he had any hope of finding Duncan Lodge and extracting revenge on that lying murderer, he had to humour McKay. Adopting a carefree slouch, Hank allowed a mocking grin to surface on his lips. "Sure thing, Sheriff. Anythin' you say."

*****************
Preston shifted in his saddle, his posterior unaccustomed to the abuse it had received throughout the long ride. It had been quite some time since he'd last sat on a horse. In the city, he preferred to take carriages, like civilized people did. He glowered at Sully's back. Well, there was one thing about it - at least Sully had allowed them to rest for part of the night. Preston had to be grateful for small mercies, he supposed. There was no doubt in Preston's mind that Sully would have never been this generous if his wolf hadn't failed him and lost the scent. The man would have likely carried on throughout the night. But now, in the light of day, Sully seemed to be following his own instincts, rather than relying on the animal. Preston had no idea what innate sense drove the man forward but he knew, from previous experience, that Sully could track anyone. After all, he'd found Noel MacBride when no one else could. Grudgingly, Preston had to admit to himself that this accomplishment made him respect the man.

He'd never held any fondness for Byron Sully, throughout the entire time he'd lived in Colorado Springs. During the previous night, when he'd offered to reveal his reasons to Sully, Preston actually had no idea of what he'd say. He'd never really analyzed himself. Now, as he rode along in silence, Preston had time for some introspective thoughts. He'd given up the effort of attempting to carry on a conversation with Sully, concluding that he would probably have more success trying to converse with that dirty wolf that trotted ahead of them!

"Bohemian!" he muttered, to himself.

Yes, he severely disliked the mountain man, even if he did admire his skill as a guide and his resiliency. But Byron Sully followed his own rules, an attitude that fostered anarchy in Preston's opinion. Where would the world be if everyone acted as Sully did - doing whatever they wanted without disciplining themselves and abiding by the laws of this great country? They would be thrown into a state of virtual chaos! Why, the Palmer Creek uprising was a perfect example of that. Look at the uproar Sully caused, and the peril he created for his family, simply because he insisted on ignoring the policies of the government and the army and had taken matters into his own hands. Back in medieval times, Byron Sully would have been taken to the gallows and executed, branded as a rebel and a traitor to his country. It irked Preston to no end that he'd gotten off so easily after Palmer Creek, with nothing more than a slap on the wrist when Sully eventually surrendered.

But it was more than that - much more. Preston's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the back of Sully's buckskin jacket, his long mane of honey brown hair, the tomahawk and knife suspended from the belt wound around his waist. How could Michaela Quinn have ever been attracted to - much less married - a man such as this? He shook his head, in disgust, before the realization struck him full force. That was the real reason, when it came right down to it. Michaela. Ever since that first day on the train from Denver, when Preston sat on one side of the passenger car and watched the honeymoon couple of the other side, he'd been attracted to this beautiful woman. Sully and Michaela had been returning to Colorado Springs and their new life - happily content, it seemed, now that they were husband and wife and barely able to contain their physical desire for one another. It was so obvious to Preston - and probably to the other passengers as well. They did nothing improper but they spent enormous amounts of time staring into each other's eyes, winding their fingers together, stealing small kisses and laughing softly. It was their laughter that bothered him the most - as if they had some delicious secret that no one else in the world could ever share. He didn't know either one of them, had never met Michaela Quinn in his entire life, but the jealousy that surged through him was so powerful that it totally consumed him. Preston wasn't an unattractive man but he'd never experienced the thrill of having a beautiful woman look at him in the same way that this lady looked at her husband. The desire and love in her eyes took his breath away. Preston spent more time on that short trip watching the newlyweds than he did admiring the scenery. And, when he arrived in Colorado Springs, he was shocked to discover that this woman wasn't just another lovely face, she was an accomplished, respected doctor! And her husband was ....a mountain man! No job. No ambition, as far as Preston could see. It felt like a slap in the face somehow, a personal affront to Preston. It offended him just to think that someone as intelligent and attractive as Michaela Quinn, someone of refinement and breeding, would defy convention to choose a character like Byron Sully over a more suitable partner.

Yes, Preston admitted to himself now, it probably was jealousy. But he wasn't in love with Michaela Quinn - not at all. He was just envious of Sully. Things came too easily to the man and, as far as Preston could see, Sully didn't deserve the happiness he'd been given. Michaela was completely devoted to her husband and she would have done anything - including lying and deceiving people and, possibly, even giving up her own life - to protect him. What had Sully ever done to earn this deep degree of devotion?

Anger bubbled up inside Preston and he called out, in his most taunting tone, "I suppose you expect me to believe that you have some idea of what you're doing? I'm sure your other friends wouldn't dream of questioning you - after all, you are the great mountain man himself - but I'm not so easily deceived, Sully. I demand to know where we're going and why you think it's prudent to ..."

"Shut up, Preston!" Sully hissed.

"Why Sully, can't you stand ....?"

Sully twisted around on his horse and the expression on his face stopped Preston in mid-sentence. "There's a cabin up ahead and, if you don't quiet down," Sully whispered, sharply, "they'll hear us."

Preston urged his horse forward until it moved up alongside Sully. "You think Duncan's in there?" he asked, softly.

Sully nodded. "The rain washed away most of the buggy tracks last night but, here and there, I've seen a few places where a wheel cut into the grass. They came this way."

"And why do you think they're at this particular cabin?" Preston eyed him, skeptically.

"Cause there ain't anythin' else out here, Preston. There's no place else for 'em to go."

Preston didn't notice that Sully had reined in his horse. He was preparing to ride on ahead when Sully reached out and grabbed hold of Preston's arm, stopping him. "We'll leave the horses here and walk. The cabin's just up there."

For once, Preston didn't argue with him. They tied up their mounts to a nearby tree and slipped through the forest, silently. When they arrived at the clearing, the first thing Preston spotted was a buggy still attached to a lone horse, parking out in front of the cabin.

"Is that Duncan's?" Preston whispered, ducking behind a tree when Sully ordered him to take cover. Sully crouched behind a rock, his eyes narrowed into slits as he peered over the top of it. Preston could see a muscle twitching in Sully's jaw.

"Uh huh. I'm goin' in first. You cover me."

He didn't give Preston time to respond as he slid out from behind the rock and advanced toward the cabin, darting from one tree trunk to the next. Preston fumbled to remove his revolver from the holster, then cocked the weapon quickly. Once he'd arrived at the clearing, Sully sprinted across to the side of the cabin and pressed his back up against the wall. Very slowly, he eased around until he was able to peer in through a small window beside the front door. Time seemed to shuffle past on leaden feet as Preston waited in the woods, holding his breath. Eventually, Sully straightened up and boldly stepped out into the open.

"What the devil is he doing?" Preston muttered to himself. Sully kicked open the door and stood, framed in the doorway. Then he turned and gestured toward Preston.

By the time the banker reached the cabin, Sully was already inside the structure. Preston let his gaze roam around the small space.

"No one's here," Sully said, quietly. "They're gone."

"How do you know if they were ever here in the first place?" Preston asked, stepping inside the room to investigate.

Sully nodded toward a pile of sheets bunched up in one corner of the cabin. "Those are sheets from Michaela's clinic. And someone built a fire in the fireplace not that long ago." The mountain man knelt down in front of the stone structure and felt the charred logs with one hand. "Cold," he announced. "They aint' been here for a while."

Preston was surprised at the calm tone of Sully's voice but, when they man turned back to scan the room once more, his blue eyes were filled with anguish. At that moment, Preston actually felt sorry for him.

"Maybe ..." Preston began, hoping to say something reassuring. The sound of a dog snarling and growling a short distance away from the cabin cut off Preston's feeble attempt.

Sully was instantly on guard, his body rigid. "Wolf," he whispered, charging through the door before Preston had time to react. Sully's hand was clamped around his tomahawk and he pulled the weapon from his belt as he ran. Preston chased after him, his heart pounding. Assuming that the animal had encountered Duncan, Preston had no idea what to expect. If Michaela was alive and well, it was possible that Sully would control himself and capture Duncan without bloodshed. But, if Michaela was hurt, in any way, Preston had no doubt that Sully would be violent and vengeful.

They crashed through the trees, heading in the direction of the uproar. As soon as they spotted the animal, Preston felt relief flood through his body. Sully stopped abruptly and, when Preston caught up with him, there was an expression of intense disappointment and disgust on the man's face.

Wolf had cornered his victim. Patrick O'Donnell stood with his back pressed up against a tree, sheer terror etched into his features. When he spied Sully and Preston standing a few feet away, assessing the situation, the man smiled feebly.

"I wonder, lad - would you be kind enough to call off this creature, before he changes his mind and decides to be havin' himself a mid-morning snack?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 14
by Jean McQuaid

Time alone to reflect on life is welcomed at the end of a day
For those whose life is hectic it's a luxury for which they pray
We all need time to be alone to think and dream ahead
Of life and love and special friends as we snuggle in a cozy bed
But other times when solitude is a frightening and haunting place
That's when we need a hug and a kiss or a smile from a friendly face
Laughter and sharing, loving and caring, just having someone near
Comforts the body and soothes the soul, vanishes doubts and fear
Now alone in the dark I count the seconds longing for daylight to arrive
I'll soon be home and no longer alone for I am strong and I will survive.

by Jean McQuaid
*******************
Solitude, whether planned or consequential, opens the door to opportunity, a chance to reflect on experiences from the past, conditions of the present and dreams for the future. Michaela had endured many a sleepless night as a young woman studying for examinations at medical college, as a doctor sitting at the bedside of seriously ill patients, as a wife eagerly awaiting Sully's return from some perilous adventure, and as a mother, nursing her newborn Katie. But this night was very different. This was not the survival of another, this was her own survival and sleep was not an option she could afford to take.

"Never say good-bye to loved ones or friends in anger, Michaela, for those may be the last words ever exchanged between you." These, the words of Joseph Quinn, were ironically one of the last statements he'd made to his daughter before his untimely death.

With her arms wound around her legs, as they pushed her knees up to her chest allowing a small platform of comfort to rest her weary head on, Michaela had spent much of the long, cold night, pondering her dear Father's message. Of course she took every opportunity to tell her family how much she loved them, but her friends, well, unfortunately, her last words with Dorothy had been very angry ones. She was happy for both Dorothy and Cloud Dancing and that they'd finally come to realize, no matter the culture or race, when two people were in love, they belonged together. True, she was disappointed that the secret had been kept from her, but it didn't matter now and she'd give anything to tell Dorothy how sincerely happy she was for their union. And what about Grace? Grace had unselfishly forgiven her for lying about Sully's death but would their friendship withstand yet another lie from Michaela and a deception from Dorothy? Grace was one of the kindest, most caring people she'd ever known and she and Sully had entrusted Robert E. and Grace as Katie's Godparents. Could Grace ever forgive her and fully understand the reason for being left out, again?

"I won't have a friend left in this world if I keep getting mixed up in these type of predicaments. If they only knew what was in my heart, that this wasn't just about freeing Hank, there was something far more important here. Violet Patterson. How many times has Sully said to me 'But why does it always have to be you?' and how many times have I asked that question of myself? I've been blessed with a family who cares about my life and what happens to me, but Violet had no one. I don't know. Maybe it's the same force that drove me to become a doctor that drives me to help those less fortunate than myself."

But the thoughts of the night would have to be set aside for now as it was time to move on. It was time to go home. Carefully removing what remained of her red dress, she eagerly began tearing it into small pieces which she'd planned to hide in places she knew only Sully would find. The early morning sun was warm and inviting as she stepped out from her hiding place. If only she could enjoy its splendor, but no doubt Duncan was close at hand and time was of the essence. If her plan worked, Sully would be able to know where she'd been and in which direction she was heading. She'd been on many adventures with Sully and just assumed she knew the countryside quite well, but obviously, Michaela was wrong. There wasn't one tree, one rock, one view of her surroundings that was even vaguely familiar. The only logical thing to do was to follow the sun and God help her if she was wrong. But if she was triumphant, Michaela, unlike Violet, would have a family eagerly awaiting her return.

So, with hope in her heart and shear tenacity at her back, she left the sanctuary of the rocks and headed out for yet another Colorado adventure.

*******************
Duncan may not have been as cunning nor experienced as Michaela Quinn, but he too concluded that following the morning sunlight was his only hope of finding the lady doctor. It hadn't been easy trying to find a suitable place to hide her, however, no one seemed to miss his daily jaunts into the woods, going deeper and deeper and farther away from the outskirts of town. It was only by chance that he happened upon the abandoned cabin and was astute enough to realize it was in a part of the forest very few people seemed to frequent.

He had hoped for a more romantic interlude but was, again, disgruntled and concluded, no woman should ever be given a man's complete trust. Michaela had been an enormous disappointment, apparently as fickle and two-faced as any woman he'd ever met. Pity, for she was not only the most intelligent but the most beautiful. Beauty and style that would put all the others to shame.

But she'd chosen to defy him, trick him, and now his only recourse was to find her and make her pay. Time was of great importance to him, as well as the image of her husband, the savage, haunted him. There was no doubt the mountain man would rip him to shreds if he ever found him, leaving his ravaged and bloody remains for the animals. With this in mind, he picked up his pace until he was in full flight, furiously shoving aside any tree branch or bush that dare stand in his way. Duncan was going to find Michaela, there was absolutely no way he could allow her to escape now.

******************
The anger in the voices downstairs matched Katie's own mood as she bounded out of the bedroom with a regretful Samantha close behind. No matter how much it hurt, she had to find out the truth. But she made an abrupt halt at the top of the stairs suddenly overcome with curiosity by the conversation between Myra and Luke.

"But Katie has a right to know and I plan to tell her," Luke protested.

"Tell her what? That her ma's been dragged off by some madman? No, I forbid it!" Myra stood firm.

A knot formed in her stomach and she felt numb all over but, somehow, Katie managed to make her way down to confront Myra Bing. "Where's my mother," she demanded.

Wishing she'd kept her voice down, Myra was at a loss for words.

But Katie was relentless. "Please don't lie to me. I'm not a child like some people think."

"Now Katie, there's no sense gettin' upset. We don't know anything for sure." But Myra knew, all too well, she didn't sound very convincing.

Luke, on the other hand, could sense Katie's frustration and, in his heart, knew Katie was strong-willed and stubborn like her mother and should be told the truth, no matter what. He slowly made his way across the room, hoping to console the girl, but was met with a cold reception as she pushed him away. At that moment, he realized this was more than just concern for her mother's well being, something had happened between the two girls that had already upset Katie. His fears were soon confirmed as she lashed out at him, "Get away from me! I hate you!"

"Kates?"

She turned her full wrath on him. "Did you kiss Samantha?"

Now Luke was at a loss for words.

"Well, did you?"

Backed into a corner, he lowered his head and quietly answered, "Yes."

It was as if all Hell broke loose, as if the fury and rage of the violent storms which plagued Colorado Springs had returned in the form of Katherine Sully. "How could you? You love me, but you kissed her! Why?"

Pride would not allow him to defend himself and tell her the real truth, that it was Samantha who'd instigated the show of emotion. "It just happened and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, Katie, you must know that. I told you before, I do love you but not like a man loves a woman, more like a brother...." He now regretted his last three words. Katie's face went red and, if looks could kill, he would have been struck dead at that moment.

"I've heard enough!" Katie shouted and turned back to Myra. "If you two won't tell me, then I'll just have to find somebody who will."

But Myra stopped Katie as she headed towards the front door. "No! I'll tell ya. I'm so sorry, Katie. I was only tryin' to keep you from gettin' hurt." And, with that, she slowly began to relate all the facts she knew at this point. "That's all we know, Katie. Now your Pa and the rest of the men are doin' everything they can to find her."

The color drained from Katie's face as she dropped into one of the chairs at the table. "No," she silently whispered. The others allowed her this time to herself and, when she did speak, it was as if her mind was a million miles away. Staring into thin air, her speech was emotionless but direct. "Luke, I'd like you to go now. I don't wanna see you anymore."

But Samantha's guilt had reached a point where she could no longer stand by and let Luke take the blame. "No Katie! It was my fault, not Luke's. I tried to kiss him but he pushed me away." She paused briefly. "I'm the one who should leave, not Luke."

But Sam's confession had little impact on Katie's state of mind. She blamed them all for treating her like a child but, worse than that, here she was feeling sorry for herself when who knew what kind of danger her own mother was facing. With that, she dropped her head into her hands and began to sob.

Luke ached to console her but he knew it was pointless. She needed this time to deal with all that had been thrust upon her and, for women, crying was good. His heart was heavy also for the lost relationship he'd held so dearly with Katie Sully, the one person he knew accepted him, unconditionally, for who he was and had trusted him beyond comprehension. He, too, was sad. He'd lost his Kates.

*******************
Dorothy sat silently, staring into the smoldering logs. She was unaware that her husband towered above her, waiting for the right moment to hand her the dried clothing. But Cloud Dancing could wait no longer and, when he did finally place her clothing into her lap, she jumped. "Cloud Dancin' !"

"I did not mean to startle you, but it is time to go."

"Oh, yes, of course."

"The horses are well rested and I have filled our canteens with fresh water."

"Cloud Dancin'? Have your spirits spoken to you? Tell me the truth, do you really think we're headin' in the right direction?"

He knelt down beside her. "You have sat for a long time, asleep with your eyes wide open. With the earth now dry, I have had time to look at the trail we have been on and, even with the heavy rain washing much of the tracks away, I see ruts from a wagon that were made not long ago. I also see tracks from horses which tells me others ride before us."

Dorothy's face lit up. "Do you think, maybe...."

"I can feel it in my heart. Sully is not far ahead of us."

"Really? Oh Cloud Dancin', maybe he's already found her."

"Anything is possible, my wife." But, before standing, he handed her some berries. "I picked these for you."

Dorothy smiled, in appreciation, "Thank you," and enjoyed the sweet berries as they relieved the hunger pains she was now feeling.

But Cloud Dancing did not return her smile. "There is something else you should know. There is also much danger ahead."

Dorothy's optimism was suddenly dashed as she quickly got dressed, in silence. If Cloud Dancing foresaw danger, then it was inevitable. But what kind of danger and to who?

*****************
Hank had managed to clean off the blood from his wound before they left but he could feel his lip beginning to swell as he cursed Horace under his breath, vowing to get even with him one day. Damn Horace and damn Myra. He wished she'd never come back, she was nothing but trouble. As long as she was around, there'd never be any hope for peace between the two men. She made herself perfectly clear that she didn't want either of them, so what in the hell were they doing still fighting over her? "Women," he cursed. "Ain't nothin' but trouble." Ironically, here he was damp and cold from the rainy night, hungry and badly needin' a shot of whisky, and all for another woman! "Damn Michaela too! Why'd she go stickin' her nose in my business anyways?" But he wouldn't have it any other way.

In the darkness of the night, he'd overheard the concerns of the lady Doctor's sons, each one recalling an experience they'd had with their ma. Even Andrew seemed genuinely upset as he tried to change the subject of their conversation to the upcoming wedding. There was no doubt about it, Matthew was head over heels in love. The only time Hank had seen a smile on anyone's face since they'd left town was when Matthew Cooper spoke Madison Montgomery's name. Several times he'd longed to join in the conversation, add his own bit of humor and teasing to the poor boy so helplessly in love. Wasn't it expected of him, wasn't he always supposed to be the one with the crude remarks that only he seemed to laugh at? But Hank had changed, he'd mellowed and this was neither the right time or place to be making jokes about any of the Sully family, not without Michaela. "Damn, there's gonna be a weddin' an' Micheala, you're gonna be there if it kills me," he murmured to himself.

The sun's warmth was refreshing and, in it's brilliance, Hank could barely make out the silhouette of Sheriff McKay on the horse just ahead of him. But he was caught off guard when, suddenly, McKay stopped and dismounted.

"Wagon tracks. Faint, but they musta been made within the last day or two."

He turned to his posse, "Boys, we're on the right trail!"

*****************
"It just don't feel right, Grace. Me stayin' behind whiles the others are all out lookin for Dr. Mike."

"I know how ya feel, Robert E., but someone had to stay back in town, just in case Dr. Mike returns. Besides, the sheriff needed someone he could trust to look after things in town."

"Maybe you're right but, if we don't soon get some kinda word, I'm headin' out!"

Grace tried to settle her husband but she, too, felt helpless. "Maybe we outta go see if Loren's heard anything. I know Colleen and Madison were stayin' at the clinic last night. Maybe they've heard from Matthew."

Grace was very concerned and, once she started letting her emotions out, nothing could stop her as they crossed the street to the mercantile. "Poor kids, first their ma and pa split up 'an now their ma's in the hands of that madman. Lord, what's next?"

As they neared the open door to Loren Bray's store, they could hear Madison and Colleen, deep in conversation with the shopkeeper. At first, Grace hesitated upon interrupting but the sound of Loren's voice carried far enough outside for both Grace and Robert E. to hear.

"Well, it don't surprise me none. Your Ma's always tryin' to do things her way and look what's happened now." Loren was disgusted with himself for feeling this way, but it was true. In his mind, Dr. Mike brought on many of her woes. "Never a dull moment with Sully and your ma and their hair-brained schemes. How many times do ya think the folks of this town are gonna put up with this kinda nonsense? But they've gone too far this time, if ya ask me, makin' us all believe they'd split up! It's one thing tryin' to pull the wool over our eyes, but it's another tryin' to fool the likes of Duncan Lodge. That man's a murderer. What in God's name were they thinkin'?"

That caught Grace's attention immediately and she marched into the mercantile, chin up and very angry. "What do ya mean, tryin' to fool us?"

Loren had no idea Grace and Robert E. didn't already know and he now regretted he'd been the one to tell them, in a roundabout way. But what was done, was done and he was right, because the look on Grace's face told the whole story. She was upset and angry. Once again, her good friend hadn't trusted her enough to let her know it was all an act.

As for Grace, she was more hurt than angry. After the deception of Sully's death, she felt sure there would be no more secrets and felt confident in her relationship with Dr. Mike.

"You mean to tell me, Dr. Mike and Sully didn't split up?"

Loren was direct. "That's right!"

"So, she lied to me again."

Colleen's stomach began to churn. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. It was just a simple plan to trap Duncan and no one would get hurt. But the reverberation of what her Mother and Sully had done was now deeply affecting everyone. "Please, don't blame Ma...."

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as there was no appeasing Grace at this moment. "All the while my heart was breakin' for your Ma 'an you kids, it was nothin' more than an act! I know it ain't right, me feelin' this way right now but she lied to me and that hurts every bit as much as it hurts wonderin' if I'll ever see her again."

The room went silent, each in their own thoughts. Grace, somberly, turned towards the door.

"Where you goin' ?" Robert E. knew how close Dr. Mike and Grace had become and, the fact is, he was a little confused himself.

She stopped and looked down, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm goin' to the church to say a prayer for Dr. Mike. But I'm also gonna say one for me. I'm gonna ask God if he'll forgive me for feelin' selfish right now, cause I can't forgive myself." And, with that, she left.

Madison had remained silent, not feeling like she was a true part of this community. But her instincts told her that Grace was doing something that felt right. She leaned close to Colleen, putting her arm on the other girl's shoulder and whispered, "I'd like to go there too."

***************
Pleased with herself and the progress she appeared to be making, Michaela Quinn had almost forgotten about Duncan Lodge and the fact he was still out there. In fact, she was maybe a little too confident, thinking she'd outsmarted him, and she didn't realize she was getting careless about letting the strips of red cloth show a little more than intended. But it had been hours since there'd been any kind of unusual noise other than those of nature and, with the warm sunlight on her skin and the fresh air blowing through her hair, she felt a sudden freedom like never before. It was as if all the problems of the past twenty-four hours had simply disappeared. Along the way she'd found several berry bushes and could hear the soft sound of water running in the distance, assuming that, upon reaching what sounded like a stream, she'd be able to bath her wounds and take a rest. Surely, if he was going to find her, he would have done so by now. Most likely he'd given up and returned to the cabin. "That coward has likely left the territory by now and all I can say is, 'good riddance'! But he's not going to get away with this. I'll have Sheriff McKay wire the outlying towns. They'll get him, Violet, I promise!"

Michaela was even more elated when she stepped out from a clump of bushes and found herself standing on the edge of an overgrown dirt road. No doubt this had been the route Duncan had used to get to the cabin. On the other side of the road was the stream that she'd heard in the distance and she could hardly wait to bath in its cool, clear water before setting out on the road to freedom.

Without much cover, her arms and legs had sustained many long and ugly scrapes but none of them appeared to show any sign of infection, although they did sting once she sunk down into the sun-warmed water. This was heaven and she closed her eyes to the beams of light that reflected off the water's surface, almost putting herself into a trance. Once again she'd made it, she'd survived yet another trial in life and all that was left was to go home, back to Colorado Springs. Laughing to herself, she realized they'd be grateful to see her but, once the welcomes were over, it would be time to set a few friendships back in order, beginning with Dorothy and Grace. Oh, what they must think of her right about now, knowing full well she lied to them again. It was different the first time. Their lives and Sully's had to be protected from the army, but, in order to completely gain the trust of Duncan, it had been necessary to create the illusion that she and Sully had parted and that she needed someone to confide in during her time of despair. "If I was ever in need of a shoulder to cry on, I would have never picked someone like you, Duncan! God help me, but I'd of much preferred dealing with the devil himself!"

"That is a rather insulting yet stimulating statement, if I ever heard one."

Michaela was shocked by the sound of Duncan's voice and hoped that she was dreaming. But, as she shielded her eyes from the sunlight and looked up, sure enough, there he stood. Now he was the one oozing with pride. He stood with his hands firmly planted on his hips and the arrogant gleam in his eyes spoke a thousand praises of his victory at finding her. Duncan Lodge was the devil himself.

At first, Michaela was afraid to move. Fear gripped her like a cold wind and her body became numb, unable to move. She was already at a disadvantage, sprawled out in the water at his feet and fearing any movement would be futile as he'd be able to pounce upon her in one leap. But it was her only chance and, again, she found herself plotting an escape from the grip of a man whom she now detested.

With every ounce of strength, she attempted to run but she felt her feet slip from under her as he'd already reached out and caught her by the hair, using it to drag her out of the water and into his arms. She was strong, but he was stronger and his hold on her grew tighter and tighter. It was as if he planned to squeeze the life right out of her at that moment. But, once he'd pulled her hair back to bring their faces within inches of each other, his hold became less restrictive and he lowered his lips to claim hers. Tossing her head from side to side, she attempted to avoid contact with his lips on hers but that didn't seem to bother him as he began to kiss any and all parts of her face and neck, obviously enjoying every minute of it. Michaela's stomach wrenched in pain. She felt ill at his touch and nauseated by the mere sight of him. This wasn't going to be easy but she had to fend him off as best she could, for now was the moment of truth. It didn't take a trained doctor to know that the man was definitely insane and would not cease until he got exactly what he wanted.

"Duncan, please stop!" Desperately she cried out to him.

But he seemed to be in a world of his own, delighting himself with the soft skin of her neck. "Hmmm...I had no idea how wonderful this would be, Michaela. Just relax and enjoy being made love to by a real man, a gentleman. This is what you've missed, isn't it my darling, the graceful stroking of your hair and the soft whispers of lovemaking in your ear. You don't really want me to stop, do you Michaela? Tell me you want this as much as I do."

She remained silent, still trying to pull herself free.

He suddenly stopped and with one had, grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Tell me you want this, now!" His voice became quite agitated as his fingers dug into her chin. "Tell me, Michaela! I'd much prefer your consent but, if you insist on fighting me, I'll have to force my affections on you and that's not what either of us really want, is it?"

Finally, "Take your hands off me!" Slowly and clearly, and in a very abrupt tone, Michaela answered him.

Duncan's smile turned suddenly into a rigid, terrifying grin and his eyes were bloodshot and glowed with deep anger. The veins in his neck bulged as he yanked her chin up to claim his victory kiss on her lips.

Michaela felt ill, as if she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. His lips were cold and rough, nothing like the gentle warm lips of her husband. But then no one could ever replace Sully, he was in her mind, perfect.

Without warning, he threw her to the ground and she felt the air leave her body as a sudden sharp pain in the back of her head made her feel dizzy. The daylight she'd enjoyed earlier soon turned to the lonely darkness of the night. Blood began to seep from the back of her head, spilling onto the rock she'd hit in the fall.

Michaela Quinn lay unconscious on the ground at his feet and Duncan didn't know if he was happy or disappointed. But she was still breathing and, as long as she was alive, she'd be able to tell all and he wasn't about to let that happen. He would have to finish the job and get rid of the body before making his get away from Colorado Springs. Things hadn't turned out the way he'd planned but, out of desperation, it was now time to clean up his mess and move on. There would be other women in other towns and, somewhere out there, he'd find one that would yield to his wishes, succumb to his needs and return his love and trust. Michaela Quinn would be nothing more than a past experience, but one that he would never forget.

Chapter 15 ...