For personal use and select distribution only © by Judith A., October 2006
No Greater
Burden
By Judith A.
Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen
On her second day at Darlington, Michaela worked with Cloud Dancing to treat almost twenty patients, most presenting symptoms of fever, chills, and weakness. By the time the sun hung low against feathery clouds, casting the sky in a golden haze, Michaela was physically and emotionally drained. She walked to the opposite end of the reservation to retrieve her horse so she could ride to the campsite where Sully and the children were waiting with supper. As she thought about the way the Cheyenne and Arapaho were being forced to live, bile rose up in her gut. It was a rush of physical rage at the injustice of the situation. Taking several deep breaths, she willed herself to calm down. The last thing she wanted to do was frighten the children or rile Sully into taking a reckless action. On her way across the reservation she noticed the Indian Agent.
"Agent Miles," Michaela called, eager to catch up to him. She had a fierce need to vent her frustration at someone who might be able to do something.
Pretending he didn't hear his name being called, Agent Miles picked up his pace. At the end of another long and difficult day, the last thing he wanted to do was engage in conversation with a do-gooder who had no idea what life was like out here.
Michaela accelerated her pace. "Agent Miles," she repeated from just a few feet away from him.
With the woman so close, Agent Miles had no choice except to stop. "How may I help you Ma'am?"
Michaela extended her hand. "I'm Dr. Quinn. I wanted to speak with you about the conditions on this reservation. They're deplorable."
Agent Miles looked at her outstretched hand, but didn't take it. "We do our best Ma'am," he replied before he began to walk away.
Frustrated at being dismissed, Michaela remained by his side, matching him stride for stride. "Agent Miles, I spent the better part of yesterday and today treating many sick people on this reservation. Unless the government intends to wipe out everyone here, conditions must improve."
The Indian Agent stopped walking, shielded his eyes from the setting sun, and studied her curiously. "I never met a woman physician before."
"I have a practice in Colorado Springs," Michaela responded, her posture upright and rigid.
"With all due respect Mrs. Quinn, I'd prefer you leave the doctoring to the Army physician."
"It's Doctor Quinn," Michaela repeated, emphasizing the word doctor. "Where is the Army physician?"
"He'll be by in a month or so." Agent Miles turned again, signaling that their conversation was over.
Michaela kept pace with him. "A month! By then it will be too late for many of the Indians."
"The Indian healers do what they can."
"With all due respect to you Agent Miles," Michaela began. Her tone was indignant and slightly condescending. "Many of the Indians on this reservation are sick. They need care now, not a month from now. Most of them are suffering from diseases introduced by us. Since they have no natural resistance, it's even more important that they be treated by doctors who've seen these ailments before. Most of the Indians I cared for today are severely malnourished. Their bodies don't stand a chance of fighting off the illness with a weakened constitution. My friend, Cloud Dancing, a Cheyenne Medicine Man, asked for my help and I intend to do what I can, with or without your permission."
Agent Miles knew the truth of her words, but it was hard to hear it from a stranger, no less a woman. He also knew that he worked tirelessly to help the Indians adapt to civilization so they could become self-sufficient. In return for his efforts, he received little help from Washington or even many of the Indians themselves. "Dr. Quinn, I have tried every way I know to convince the government to provide adequate food and medical care to the Indians under my care. I inflate the numbers of people living on this reservation in the hope of receiving more rations. Yet each year Congress cuts funding for the reservations. There's nothing more I can do. I have broken rules by permitting them to hunt off reservation land to feed their families. Washington insists they become farmers. When the crops fail year after year, they still won't believe that even a white farmer, with generations of experience, couldn't make anything grow out here. I have to accept what is in my power to change and what is not."
"I understand that Agent Miles," Michaela replied in a more sympathetic tone. "I didn't mean to imply that you aren't doing your job. It's just hard for me to see people suffering for want of food and simple medicine."
The agent brought his hand around the back of his neck in frustration. "It's worse this year. All the crops failed and the beef rations were cut again. Not every year is this dire. I'm doing my best to prepare the Indians for a future. Congress intends for them to become self-sufficient. They can't remain dependent on the government forever."
"They want that, too, Agent Miles," Michaela implored. "They took care of themselves and their families long before we came along and uprooted their lives by placing them on reservations. I know you recognize how difficult it is for them to become self-sufficient when they are forced to live where there is no practical means of feeding their families. It's not their fault they are dependent on the government for their basic survival. I fear they have been set up to fail."
Agent Miles paused in his steps, hands on his hips, and shifted his position to face Michaela. "Dr. Quinn, I have tried to convince the Army that in order for the Indians to become independent and assimilate into our society, they must learn the language and a trade. It is also obvious to me that their future is not as farmers. Without government sanction, I have rented part of the land to cattle ranchers for grazing, as a means of supplementing the meager government provisions. My firm belief is that the Indians' future is as cattle herders and stock raisers, but I can't convince anyone in Washington of the merit in this idea. I realize that children cannot learn if they are hungry. Sick and weak men cannot work. While some in Washington are sympathetic to these arguments, there isn't enough money. It's far from ideal, but we do the best we can."
Michaela realized how much the agent had tried to help the Indians and softened her tone. "I'm aware of how much is out of your control. My husband was an Indian Agent. I apologize if I implied that you weren't doing your best."
"No offense taken." They resumed walking again, stopping when they reached Michaela's horse. "What reservation was your husband on?"
Michaela leaned against her horse and hesitated for a long moment before responding. "Palmer Creek."
A look of disapproval flashed across the agent's face. Michaela knew by his expression that he had heard the stories about Sully. There was no point in attempting an explanation of the circumstances.
"What are the Indians suffering from?" Agent Miles asked, changing the subject.
"Some have consumption. Others, I believe, have malaria."
"Can you help them?"
"Yes, but I'll need to obtain more medicine. It would also help if we isolated the sick and made improvements to the sanitary conditions."
"I'll assist in any way I can, Dr. Quinn." Agent Miles extended his hand and the two shook to a new understanding. "I'm grateful for your help."
* * * * *
"Brian," Sully said the next morning, nudging his shoulder in a friendly greeting. "I'm goin' ta the reservation ta spend time with Cloud Dancin'. Why don't ya join us later?"
When Brian was a little boy, Sully introduced him to the Cheyenne, and together, they shared their stories, their celebrations, and their sorrows. He'd like to think those early encounters played a part in building Brian's lifelong respect for the Indians and for those who appeared different from him. It hardly seemed so long ago that Matthew and Colleen called him Cheyenne crazy. Recalling those words now brought a smile to Sully's face. Now that Brian was a man, he was looking forward to sharing his Cheyenne family with him on a much deeper level.
"Maybe," he replied, looking up from securing the straps on his horse. The early morning air was cool and the light breeze felt good against his skin. Brian wanted to arrive at the reservation early, before the temperature rose to its usual unbearable highs, sapping his energy. "I'm gonna see the school, then the farm. I could meet you and Cloud Dancing later."
"You writin' an article?" Sully asked. His face held no expression and his tone was even. Underneath the neutral question was a hint of disappointment.
"I'm thinking about it. I wanna see how the government is preparing the Indians for a future. I'll talk to the Indian Agent and some of the members of both tribes. I hear there's stiff competition to get their children into the Carlisle School. I'm gonna talk to a man around my age about what it was like there," Brian explained as he finished readying his horse for the ride to the reservation.
Sully set his jaw and his stomach muscles constricted. He had been certain that once they arrived here, Brian would see the reservation for what it was and abandon the notion of working within a corrupt and inhumane system. From Sully's perspective, Darlington was little more than a prison. It was impossible to accept that his son could view it any other way or that he might believe the government's lies after all he'd seen. Not wanting to instigate another argument, he pressed his rising temper back down and forced himself to remain calm. Sully knew Brian respected the Cheyenne and wouldn't do anything to bring them harm. He had always hoped Brian would use his words to tell the world the truth about the injustice being inflicted upon his friends. There were more than enough writers conveying the government's side. "I could introduce you to some who refuse ta send their kids ta school and those who were lost at Carlisle. You should hear their side, too."
These days they both reacted with heightened sensitivity to the other's words. Each statement, even a benign question, seemed cloaked in judgment and disapproval. "I'm gonna hear all sides, Pa. I always do," he added for emphasis turning away at the earlier disappointment in Sully's tone, afraid of revealing the hurt in his expression. When had his father lost faith in him and stopped trusting his decisions, he wondered.
Sully didn't know when their once easy and natural relationship had become so strained. It seemed to start slowly, with small disputes, accelerating forward to larger ones by a force he didn't know how to reverse. Was it a consequence of accumulated disappointments that started with his actions at the dam, festering with the uprising at Palmer Creek, and peaking with his leaving them almost two years ago now? Sully thought they had recovered from each of those incidents, but now he considered the possibility that each one had chipped away at their once strong father and son bond.
Or were Michaela and Running Wolf right? Was Brian struggling to become his own man and finding a way to step out of his shadow. In his heart, he felt it was a combination of both. Bad decisions on his part had taken a toll on their relationship. Regardless of the cause, Sully could no longer deny that the boy who once regarded him as a hero now seemed to disapprove of him as a man. "I know you're a good reporter, Brian." Sully paused to see if he accepted the peace offering. Noticing Brian's posture relax, he decided to try a different tactic. "What do ya see when you look at the Cheyenne livin' here compared ta when you first met 'em?"
Brian's face clouded with sadness. "It isn't right how they're living here. They're starving and sick. They feel trapped. They don't see a way off this reservation or have any hope for the future."
Sully sighed, relieved that his son saw the same things he did. "From what I've seen so far Brian, the only story worth tellin' is how the government is tryin' ta wipe out the Indians by starvin' 'em ta death an' denyin' 'em medical care. Can't ya see they don't want 'em ta have a future."
"Then why send them to school? Why teach them a trade," Brian retorted, refusing to believe it was hopeless.
"For show. Their settin' 'em up ta fail so when they die off the government can say they tried ta help 'em, but they were too stupid or too lazy," Sully replied, through tight and angry lips.
"I don't believe that!" Brian answered back, his hands balled into fists at his side. "The Indian Agent is tryin'," he said, emphasizing the last word as if to make a point with Sully. "He's got creative ideas about how they can be self sufficient. And the government's right to focus on the children. They will blend the old and new worlds to build a new future for the Cheyenne."
"You're naïve, Brian," Sully said, working hard to suppress his anger. "Look around you! Don't you see what's happenin' here?"
Brian backed away from him. "I'm not naïve!" He took a deep breath to settle his emotions. "I know some politicians view the Indians as a problem that only their extermination will solve. But, others want to help them assimilate into our culture. They want to help them become citizens of our country. Future generations of Cheyenne will be doctors and lawyers. Someday they'll even be politicians making the laws. That's why I want to see the school. It's their hope for the future."
"It's the death of who they are," Sully said.
"What's your solution for the future, Sully? It's so easy for you to criticize what everyone else is doing. If you know so much, what would you do?" Brian challenged, his effort to maintain his composure beginning to unravel. He was angry with himself for allowing this argument to escalate so badly and he was angry with his father for being unwilling to listen to another point of view.
Sully simmered with a quiet rage, but he spoke in a low, deceptively calm voice. "If you want to see hope for the future, visit the elders secretly passing down the stories of their grandfathers to their own grandchildren. Witness the medicine arrow renewal ceremony. Attend a meetin' of the tribal council. See why the Cheyenne are willin' ta risk everythin' to pass down these traditions."
"That's the past Sully. The Cheyenne need hope for the future. They need a way off this reservation. They're not gonna get it by living in the past."
"They'll be lost if they forget their past. They won't be Cheyenne."
"I don't know why I bother talking with you about any of this. You can't accept change. You want everything to stay the same. It can't stay the same. Instead of fighting it all the time, you could figure out how you're gonna live with it. If you put all the energy you spend fighting everything into figuring out how to make things better…" Brian stopped, realizing it was futile, his arm cutting the air in frustration at the uselessness of this discussion. He and Sully were never going to agree about this and continuing to argue was further tearing them apart. Abruptly, he walked away, bumping into Sully as he stormed by in the direction of his horse.
"Brian, wait!" Sully hollered as he watched him ride off. He kicked the ground, frustrated that another conversation with his son had ended in anger.
* * * * *
"I shouldn't have come," Dorothy told Michaela as they sipped tea at their campsite. It was mid-morning and the two women finally had a quiet moment to talk. Sully was visiting with Cloud Dancing, Brian was at the reservation, and Katie and Josef had gone with Eyes Like the Sky and his father to explore the tall prairie grasses that bordered the reservation.
"Why do you say that?" Michaela asked.
"Cloud Dancing doesn't want me here," Dorothy said, putting words to the agony she had felt since first arriving at the reservation three days ago.
"I'm certain that's not true, Dorothy," Michaela responded, setting her tin cup aside to more fully face her friend.
"You saw how he acted around me. He barely noticed I was there," Dorothy said as she looked away, her eyes filling with tears.
Michaela had noticed the cold way Cloud Dancing greeted Dorothy. At the time she had excused it with a rationalization. "He has been preoccupied with the needs of his people, and perhaps it caught him by surprise to see you here. There's also the possibility he's embarrassed for you to see him under these circumstances. I'm certain he'll come around once you spend some time together."
Dorothy emptied the remains of her tea on the ground in frustration. "I don't believe he'll want to spend time with me," she insisted, wondering how she was going to endure another day in this place, let alone more than a week. Silently, she chastised herself for not trusting her instincts and for allowing Michaela to change her mind. "He hasn't given any sign that he even cares I'm here. It was a mistake to come."
Michaela searched for the right words to comfort her friend. "Years ago, when I was in Boston, Sully showed up unexpectedly. It was so unnerving to see him, in Boston of all places, that I acted as if I didn't want him there."
Intrigued, Dorothy turned to face Michaela. "When was that?"
"It was shortly before we began to court. My mother had taken ill and Rebecca asked me to return home."
"I remember that. You got a telegram and had to hurry back to Boston."
"Several weeks later, completely out of the blue, Sully arrived on our doorstep. He told me he was worried about me since I had been gone so long. My utter shock at seeing him in Boston caused me to virtually ignore him. To this day, I'm not proud of my actions. I treated him very badly."
"How's that?" Dorothy asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Though we weren't yet courting, Sully was my closest friend. Next to the children, he was the most important person in my life at the time. Yet, when he showed up in Boston, my actions suggested he was no more than a casual acquaintance. I didn't alter any of my plans to spend time with him. It was quite rude."
"Do you know why you acted like that?" Dorothy asked, hoping that by understanding Michaela's mindset at that time, she could gain some insight into Cloud Dancing's present behavior.
"My only excuse is that I was caught so completely off guard to see him in Boston that I didn't know how I was supposed to react. I knew how I was expected to behave among Bostonians and I knew how to act around Sully in Colorado, but I had absolutely no idea how to be around Sully in Boston. Before I had time to prepare, he was in the center of my world. It brought to the surface many unanswered questions about what we were to each other, the answers to which neither one of us had been ready to hear. I was so confused."
Michaela paused to sip her tea and reflect on that time so many years ago. "Actually, I wasn't confused at all." Michaela recalled with a laugh that could only come from the comfort of hindsight. "I had feelings for Sully that terrified me. It was easier to push him away by pretending he was merely an acquaintance than to face my true feelings. Fortunately for me, he and the children made it difficult for me to completely ignore him. Though I wasn't fully aware of it at the time, Sully began courting me in Boston. He took me to an elegant supper and the opera," she recalled with a whimsical smile.
"I remember when you came back from Boston. There was no denying the two of you were in love."
"Right before his train pulled away, Sully told me he loved me. I knew I loved him, too. I headed back to Colorado Springs the next day."
A brief silence fell between them. "Michaela, it's not the same between me and Cloud Dancing. We both know what we had is over. I came here as a friend. I want to know how he's getting on here. I don't have any illusions that we can go back to what we had." The well-rehearsed stoic words concealed a deeply hidden desire to see if being together again would rekindle what they had once shared. That desire, buried under layers of logical thinking to the contrary, was one she dared not give voice to, even to herself.
Michaela's hand reached across to rest over her friend's. "There may still be similarities. Cloud Dancing probably was shocked to see you here. It may have reminded him of feelings he buried a long time ago. As it was for me, it might be difficult for him to know how to act around you in his world…on the reservation. Give him time to get used to your being here. He'll come around eventually."
"Perhaps. In the meantime, it hurts."
Michaela patted her hand. "I know it does. The one thing I am certain of is that Cloud Dancing isn't ignoring you because he doesn't care. More likely, it's because he cares so much."
Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty
Cloud Dancing spent the morning introducing Sully to the elders of the tribe and reuniting him with the few still alive who remembered him from the time he spent in Black Kettle's village. They talked of the changes that had occurred in all of their lives since Washita. Sully told them about his family and his work to protect the land, work that was influenced by his time with the Cheyenne. He thanked them for their many gifts and for guiding him toward the correct path for his life. From the elders in Black Kettle's band, Sully learned more details about the aftermath of Washita, their time at Camp Supply, and then later being placed on the reservation. They spoke of the many battles with the Army, the steady loss of freedom and the loss of life from starvation and illness. Together they shared their greatest fear, the annihilation of the entire Cheyenne culture, and talked of ways of preventing that dire outcome.
Several hours later, Sully and Cloud Dancing set off to spend the afternoon together. These days it was rare for Cloud Dancing to take time for himself and he was looking forward to spending it with Sully. It had been a long time since they spent a leisurely day together. To Cloud Dancing it seemed like a lifetime ago. When Sully last visited him in the north, he was in a dark place. This time, it was Cloud Dancing who was so overwhelmed that he hadn't stopped to spend more than a few hours with his friend. Cloud Dancing wondered if, for just this day, he could go back to a different time and forget his present circumstances. For just this day, he wanted to pretend he and Sully were back in the Colorado woods before all the heartache.
At Michaela's insistence, Sully had brought a large feast for lunch. It included a roasted chicken that was supposed to have been their supper, beans, carrots, and apples. It was a cloudless sunny day and the reservation didn't offer much shade from the scorching July heat. The two men sat by the riverbank at the far end of the reservation eating in companionable silence.
"You are more at peace than the last time I saw you," Cloud Dancing stated.
"I'm real good," Sully said. "Michaela…the kids…we've never been closer." Sully left out the recent tension with Brian. Even if he wanted to discuss it, he wasn't sure how to begin.
"I am glad," Cloud Dancing said. "I am grateful for Michaela's help."
"I wish there was more we were doin' ta help ya," Sully said, before taking another bite of chicken.
Cloud Dancing's face took on a sober expression. "We need to depend on ourselves."
"Ya gotta look out for yourself and your people 'cause the government sure ain't gonna do it. But, let us help ya while we're here. Please, Cloud Dancin'," Sully implored.
Cloud Dancing gave Sully a faint smile. "I can always use the help of my friends."
Since they had arrived at the reservation, Sully sensed a change in his friend that worried him. "Cloud Dancin', are you really all right here?" Sully hesitated a moment, then added… "The truth."
"I no longer give thought to how I am. This is my life now. I do what I can to survive," Cloud Dancing replied, pausing to take another bite of food. He hadn't eaten a meal like this since a group of Dog Soldiers had brought back elk for the tribe. And he couldn't remember the last time he had a piece of fruit. It was wrong for one person to have so much when his people had so little. Part of him wanted to eat half and bring the rest back to the children, but he knew Michaela was right when she told him he needed to regain his strength or he wouldn't be of any use to his people. He pushed aside the guilt and tried to look upon the feast Sully had provided as fuel for him to carry out his duty.
"If all ya wanted ta do was survive, you could've stayed in Colorado Springs or in the Tongue River Valley," Sully challenged.
"Here, survival is not a simple matter."
"I'm not sayin' it is," Sully said, fixing his piercing blue eyes on the man he considered his brother.
Cloud Dancing felt the intensity of Sully's stare. "You are correct. It is not only about my survival. I must do more than survive if the Cheyenne are to go on after I am gone. In the time I have left, I must fight against the forces that threaten to strip us of our identity. I must make being Cheyenne mean something to those who come after me."
Is Agent Miles one of them forces?"
"The Indian Agent is a good man. He genuinely cares about our welfare."
"Then why are so many of you starvin' an' sick?"
"That is beyond his control," Cloud Dancing explained. "Like you did, he tries to get the government to give us what we were promised. He breaks the rules by letting us hunt off the reservation. When there is no doctor, he permits the healers to tend to the sick in traditional ways. Agent Miles does what he can, but as you know, much is beyond his control." He paused as he noticed Sully staring at the ground, presumably reflecting on his own failed attempts to help the Cheyenne. "Unlike you, Agent Miles does not understand us. He does not want the same future for us that I do."
"He wants ya ta become white."
Cloud Dancing swallowed hard. "He does not understand what it means to be Cheyenne. As you know, we are not allowed to practice our religion, perform our ceremonies or speak our language. Our children are taught that they have no future as an Indian. We have lost so many young people to schools in the east. When they return, they renounce the old ways. I fear in a generation, the Cheyenne will no longer exist."
The truth of what was becoming of his Cheyenne family at Darlington was hard for Sully to hear. Sorrow welled up inside him at what the loss of the Cheyenne would mean. "You're still holdin' your ceremonies and practicin' your religion, aren't ya? Couldn't ya hold lessons for the children in secret?"
"We do hold secret lessons with the children. We teach them what it means to be part of a tribe. We teach them about the medicine arrows, the sun dance, and about protecting mother earth. We want them to be proud of being Cheyenne. I do this with the hope I can reach a few who will continue the old ways once I'm gone. I understand the desire for a better life off the reservation. I fear that once they renounce their Indian ways for the white ways they will find the white world is not open to them. Then where will they be? They will be lost. I have seen young men return from the Carlisle school in the east with a new religion and white ways and no future. They cannot have a future if they reject their past…their heritage."
"How do ya keep Miles from findin' out that you're still holdin' your councils an' your ceremonies?" Sully asked.
"He is aware some of it still goes on and has not interfered, but he thinks it is only among the chiefs and old ones. He is not aware of the extent to which it is directed to the children. That he would try to stop. What he does not understand is that as hard as he is working to make them white, I will work even harder to keep them Cheyenne."
"Runnin' Wolf brought his family back here so their children could learn the Cheyenne ways," Sully remarked soberly.
"I will help them," Cloud Dancing said. "Do you know his wife is the niece of Black Kettle?"
Sully nodded. "She told Michaela and Dorothy 'bout survivin' Washita."
"Her life has been difficult. It will not be easier for them here." Cloud Dancing rose to his feet beckoning Sully to follow. The men walked through the tall prairie grass. It was dry and brittle from the lack of rain. After a long while, Cloud Dancing finally spoke. "You should not have brought Dorothy."
"Why not?" Sully asked. "I thought you'd be glad ta see her."
"I am glad to see her."
"It didn't look like it when we got here."
"I am not the same man I was back then."
"Cloud Dancin', you're the same on the inside. That's all Dorothy ever saw."
"I do not feel the same." Cloud Dancing stopped for a moment, unsure how to explain his feelings to his friend. "I…I have lost…hope."
"You been in dark places before – after Walks on Clouds…Snow Bird…Washita. You always got through."
"This is different. The death of my son and wife brought deep pain, as you know, but in time I was able to make peace with it. Washita was the cold-blooded murder of my people. I never thought I would recover. I believe it was that grief that led me to turn away from my responsibilities and remain so long in Colorado Springs. Washita brought swift death. Darlington is a slow death. It is killing the souls of my people."
"Ya haven't lost all hope if you're workin' ta teach the children."
"I used to believe we could prevent what has happened to the Cheyenne. If we worked hard enough and fought long enough, we could live peacefully with the whites. But, no matter how hard we tried, we could not change our destiny. Over time my goals narrowed so that I was content to affect scattered individuals. I thought if I reached just one person the Cheyenne would survive. Now, the situation is more urgent. There is more I must do."
"Let me help ya, Cloud Dancin'. You helped me through dark times more than once."
Cloud Dancing placed his hand on Sully's shoulder. "Sully, being able to talk with you like this is already helping me. I draw strength from you."
Sully was moved by his words. "Is that why ya don't wanna see Dorothy? You don't want her ta see ya like this."
Cloud Dancing looked away and began walking. "There is another reason."
"What?"
Cloud Dancing hesitated, not certain about how Sully would react to his news. "I told you I feel an urgency to act in ways that will help my people," he stalled.
"Yeah." Sully wasn't sure where the conversation was headed.
"I have decided that…to do the most good…" he hesitated. "I am to be married."
"Married?" Sully was stunned.
"Yes. Married."
Sully was still letting his words sink in. "That's good news, ain't it?" He was uncertain given the expression on Cloud Dancing's face.
Cloud Dancing found his friend's bewilderment amusing. "It is good." He smiled. "I have been alone for many years."
Sully absorbed this news with mixed emotions. He was happy Cloud Dancing had found someone to share the difficulties of reservation life with him. Yet, he couldn't help feel sadness for Dorothy. Though she put up a brave front for all of them, Sully saw the way she looked at him when she didn't think anyone was aware. She gazed like a woman who couldn't let go, who clung to a faint hope that someday she and Cloud Dancing might have a future. When he noticed Cloud Dancing staring at him, waiting for a reaction, Sully gave him a congratulatory pat on the back. "I'm real glad for ya Cloud Dancin'. We were both real lucky ta find love again. I can understand why it'd be hard ta see Dorothy. She'll come around. She wants ya ta be happy. We all do."
Cloud Dancing's face grew serious. "You do not understand."
"What? You're in love and you're gettin' married."
Cloud Dancing cast his eyes toward the ground. "It is not what you think. I have chosen to take a wife for the future of the tribe. Too many of our children are dying. I want to bring children into the world so we might have a future."
"I understand. Who is she?"
"She is called Two Voices. I do not know her very well. Her husband passed recently of this sickness that has taken hold of the reservation. Michaela tells me it is called malaria. Two Voices is with child. I will teach this child as well as those I hope to have with her. I do not expect to ever have the bond I shared with Snow Bird or even with Dorothy. Do you truly understand?"
"I know the responsibility you have ta your people," Sully reassured him. He left out that though he respected the depth of his responsibility he couldn't help wishing his brother the same happiness he had found with Michaela. Perhaps with someone he truly loved by his side to share the hardships, his life would feel less hopeless.
Cloud Dancing noticed the subtle expression of regret in his friend's eyes. "Sully, your spirit goes with the Cheyenne. But, you are not Cheyenne. In your head you comprehend the responsibility that comes with placing the tribe before the man, but you do not feel it in here." He pointed to his chest.
Sully bristled at his words. "The Cheyenne are a part o' me."
"You are as close to Cheyenne as any white man I have known."
Sully shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Then what are ya sayin'?"
"You are your own man, accountable to your conscience."
"I always figured I had ta live with myself first."
"That is a difference between us. Your inner spirit drives your actions. You have sacrificed and put your life in danger to do what you believe is right, but it was always your decision based on your conscience. I am driven by the voices of generations of Cheyenne before me. I do not have the luxury to decide what is right for me. Every action I take from now on must be determined by whether it will help the Cheyenne go on."
"That's a large burden for one man," Sully said.
"It is a responsibility I must carry if I am to remain a leader and be the man I want to be before I cross over to the spirit world."
Sully didn't know how to respond. Cloud Dancing was as close to him as a brother. In all their years together, with all they had been through, Sully had never thought about this difference between them. Yet, it was there. Perhaps for Sully it came from being on his own since the age of ten, accountable only to himself and his conscience. He would give up his life for a cause he believed in or someone he loved, and almost had on numerous occasions. So would Cloud Dancing. For Sully, though, those were his choices alone, not actions entered into to meet the expectations of others.
"Come, let us walk back," Cloud Dancing said, breaking into Sully's thoughts. "For now, I would prefer if this news were kept between us."
* * * * *
It was a quiet night. The sky was clear and brightly lit from the moon and millions of tiny stars. Michaela and Sully were the only two still awake. Late at night, after the children were asleep, was often the only time of day they could be completely alone. They relished this time together. The stillness of the night offered the illusion that they were the only two people in the world. Michaela leaned back between Sully's outstretched legs, lulled into a relaxed state by the rhythmic motions of his hands massaging her shoulders and back.
"This hasn't been much of a break with you havin' ta work the past few days," Sully noted, interrupting the tranquil silence.
"I know it's not what we planned, but the Indians need my help," Michaela said. The tension in her body eased under the tender touch of her husband.
"They're lucky ta have ya," Sully said, bringing his hands across her chest to undo the first few buttons of her blouse. Slowly, he slid her blouse down below her shoulders so he could massage her bare skin. "I just wish…" he hesitated.
"What?"
"I wish life wasn't so hard for 'em."
Michaela reached up to squeeze his hand. "So do I. Their needs are so great, Sully. In the past few days Cloud Dancing and I have treated over thirty people, mostly children. Over half of them have symptoms of malaria."
"Should we worry 'bout the kids?" Sully asked with concern.
"No. They're strong and healthy. The Indian children are more susceptible to illness because they are malnourished. As a precaution, we should keep the children away from the shallow parts of the river."
"All right, but they won't like it. Katie can swim in deep water, but Joe's just learnin'. It's too hot for 'im not ta have a place to cool off." Sully continued to knead her muscles to relieve the tightness in her shoulders.
"Mmmm…that feels good." Michaela closed her eyes to relish her husband's touch.
"You're real tense, Michaela." Sully leaned down to kiss her bare shoulder. "Is somethin' else botherin' ya?"
"I can't stand seeing our friends living like this, Sully."
"Me either," he whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder and leaning his head against hers.
Michaela raised her hand up to stroke his face. "I'm not sure what to do to help them."
Sully kissed the palm of her hand. "You're helpin' 'em with your medicine. Now I gotta find some way to help 'em."
"You are helping. You're rebuilding Running Wolf's house and you're spending time with Cloud Dancing. I can already see the impact your being here is having on him."
"I gotta do more, Michaela. Cloud Dancin' won't admit it, but he needs my help."
"What more can we do?"
"I'll think o' somethin'." Michaela leaned back against her husband's chest and instinctively he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. They sat in silence contemplating the circumstances in which they found their friends. After a few moments, Sully noticed Michaela gazing off absently into the night. He pressed his forehead to the back of her head. "What else ya thinkin' 'bout?"
Michaela didn't immediately respond. Then she mentioned her other worry in one word. "Dorothy."
Sully tensed slightly. "What about her?"
"Did you notice the way Cloud Dancing acted when we first arrived?"
"He seemed surprised ta see her," Sully said, offering an explanation that might appease her.
"Dorothy believes it was a mistake for her to have come."
"Why's that?" Sully responded in a soft voice, hoping to hide his growing discomfort.
Michaela folded her hands in her lap. "She doesn't think he wants her here."
"Maybe it woulda been best if Dorothy remembered Cloud Dancin' like he was, back in Colorado."
Michaela twisted in his arms to face him. "Is that what you'd want, Sully? For Cloud Dancing to be a memory?"
"Course not. Next ta you, he's my closest friend."
"Then why should it be different for Dorothy? Why shouldn't she want to keep him in her life in some way?" Michaela challenged.
Sully exhaled from the weight of the secret he carried. "I'm not sayin' she shouldn't. But, maybe it's too hard for him…to hard for both of 'em. Maybe too much has changed."
"Did he say anything to you?"
Sully averted his eyes from her. "Nothin' much." He had been dreading that question because he knew he could not tell Michaela about Cloud Dancing's upcoming marriage. As much as he regretted having to skirt along the edges of the truth, he had given Cloud Dancing his word. After all, it wasn't his news to share.
Michaela nestled back into his arms. "Just because he didn't seem glad to see Dorothy doesn't mean he's not."
"How's that?" Sully asked. This wasn't the first time he was puzzled by how her mind worked.
"I didn't act glad to see you when you first showed up in Boston, but I was," Michaela told him.
"Could've fooled me," Sully quipped.
Michaela turned slightly to look into his eyes. "I know I was horrid." She tenderly cupped his face. "It's just that in the time I spent in Boston caring for my mother, I had become comfortable there again. I started to believe that perhaps I could build a life as a doctor in a place that was familiar and safe for me."
"With William," he cut in, eyebrows raised.
"Sully, you know I never had the same feelings for William. It's just…." She began to defend that time before he stopped her.
"I know," he reassured, kissing her lightly on her forehead.
"What I was saying was…I felt at ease, my relationship with mother had improved. Then, without warning, you showed up, stirred all these feelings inside me, and reminded me of the life I was building in Colorado Springs."
Sully pulled her closer. "Any regrets?"
"You know better than that," Michaela answered, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.
Sully held her tight, deepening the kiss as he stroked the back of her head. Then he moved his lips from her mouth to whisper in her ear. "Ya gave up a lot ta build a life with me."
Michaela pulled back to look into his eyes, smoothing his hair. "I didn't give up anything. You've given me more happiness than I ever could have imagined." With that affirmation, they sat wrapped in each other's arms for several long moments. It didn't take long for their thoughts to return to their friends who were not as fortunate. "Perhaps Cloud Dancing doesn't want Dorothy to see him living such a hard life on this reservation," Michaela surmised.
"Maybe," Sully replied. "Dorothy reminds him of what he gave up. I suppose we do, too. He's here because his honor and duty demand that he be, but he's not happy, Michaela."
"And I know the pain that causes you."
"I have to respect his decision," Sully said in a sorrowful tone.