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

No Greater Burden
By Judith A.

Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen

In the early afternoon, under a clear blue sky, the camp was alive with activity. On one side, Sully and the children were playing a competitive game of keep away with a pair of socks. At the far corner of the camp, Brian was cleaning the rabbit he caught for their supper while Running Wolf was adding to their wood supply to keep the fire stoked. Feeling more alone than when this trip started, Dorothy had walked to a nearby cliff to seek inspiration for her writing. In the middle of the campsite, Michaela was seated next to Night Crane absorbed in her second lesson in Cheyenne ornamentation as the young Indian woman cradled her baby in her lap. This was the last planned afternoon of rest and relaxation before they resumed two more days of hard riding to their final destination.

"How am I doing?" Michaela asked, holding up her beadwork for Night Crane to examine.

Night Crane set aside her own work to finger the tanned buckskin. "You are learning quickly."

Michaela flashed a pleased smile in her direction. "I can handle a simple design in one color, but I don't know about a complicated pattern of varied colors."

"You will learn," the young woman assured.

"I'm afraid I don't share your confidence," Michaela replied. "I've made Sully deerskin shirts, but they didn't entail beadwork. I merely sewed stones and other amulets."

Night Crane noticed Michaela's proud expression as she spoke of the shirts. "You are good with a needle. Next, you should sew a pattern on Sully's moccasins," the Indian woman urged.

"Oh no, I couldn't. I wouldn't want to ruin them."

"Then surprise him with a new pair. I'll teach you a design that will mean a great deal to him," Night Crane told her. Michaela raised her eyebrows with a look of uncertainty. The young Indian woman patted her hand. "You can do it."

The women were startled from their amiable conversation by the loud, thumping footsteps of Katie heading toward them. She was out of breath from playing with her father and the boys. "Can we all play baseball?" she asked, plopping down on the ground in front of her mother.

"Katie, I don't think we can play that game here. Besides, our new friends don't know how to play baseball," her mother explained.

"We'll teach them." Katie pulled her mother's hand and started to stand. "C'mon."

Sully and the boys joined the women after overhearing the end of the conversation. "Kates, we don't have bats and a ball," her father said.

"Oh," she said dejected.

"Why don't we play somethin' else," Sully proposed

"Like what?" She asked, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet with restless energy.

"We can play the wheel game," Eyes Like the Sky suggested timidly.

"We don't have wheels or sticks," Running Wolf told him, having just joined their gathering.

"Why don't we all play the coyote game. We don't need any equipment for that," Night Crane offered.

"I'm afraid we don't know how to play the coyote game," Michaela said, setting her sewing aside.

"It's easy. We'll teach you," Eyes Like the Sky said, eager to teach his new friends a Cheyenne game.

After everyone had agreed to play, Sully left to tell Brian about the game, hoping he would decide to join in this time while Michaela went to find Dorothy, hoping to encourage her to play. She found her deep in thought at the edge of a cliff gazing at the ebb and flow of the river.

"Dorothy," Michaela began, stepping slowly toward her friend.

Startled, Dorothy turned around.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Michaela said. "We're all going to play a Cheyenne game and I was hoping you'd join us."

"I don't think I'm up for a game, Michaela," she said, turning back around to resume her writing.

"Please, Dorothy," Michaela persisted. "I'd like you to join us. I've missed you."

Dorothy remained quiet for several long moments letting Michaela's words sink in. She had spent the past hour thinking about how much she had missed talking with Michaela since they met the Indian couple. Though they had an opportunity to talk yesterday, her mind was filled with thoughts of Cloud Dancing and she wished Michaela had been there to calm her nerves. She also thought about how she hadn't made an effort to know Night Crane. Perhaps participating in this game would help her feel more a part of this trip. Finally, she faced her friend. "All right, I'll play," she replied, rising to her feet.

Michaela beamed with delight. "I'm so glad." She placed her hand on Dorothy's back and the two of them walked back to camp together, engaged in friendly conversation.

When everyone was gathered around, Night Crane began to explain the rules of the game.

"When I was a little girl, this was one of my favorite games. The first thing everyone has to do is line up according to size, with the littlest one in the back. Running Wolf, you'll be in the front of the line with Josef at the end," Night Crane explained.

"Why do I always gotta be last?" Josef complained.

Night Crane approached Josef, knelt down, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "It is best to be in the back of the line, farthest from the coyote. That way you will be harder to tag out." Josef was pleased by the explanation and took up his position at the end of the line. "Next, we need one person to be the coyote and another person to protect the rest of the line from the coyote."

"Papa should protect us," Josef chimed in.

"Joe, I think the game‘ll be more fun if you kids play the parts," Sully replied, as he took his place in line.

"I agree," Night Crane said. "Katie, why don't you play the coyote?"

"What do I have to do?"

"As the coyote, you will face the line and try to attack. You will dash toward all of us in line, while the protector tries to stop you," Night Crane explained, as her body acted out the parts. "If you touch one of us, that person is out of the game. Your objective is to tag everyone out. Eyes Like the Sky, you can be the protector.

"I get to keep the coyote from touching anyone in line!" Eyes Like the Sky said, excitement in his tone.

"Do boys and girls usually play this game together," Michaela asked.

"Not usually, but who will know out here?" She replied, sharing a wry glance with Michaela.

Night Crane's usual serious demeanor had been crumbling over the past several days. Watching her now, Running Wolf could almost imagine his wife as a young girl, happy and carefree, before all the sadness and pain in her life stole away her smile and quieted her laughter. If she hadn't told him of her past knowledge of Dr. Mike and Sully, he would be confused by how relaxed his wife was becoming around this white family. She trusted them, and despite his better judgment, Running Wolf was having a difficult time finding a reason not to trust them, too.

For the past few days, he enjoyed pretending that the rest of his life would always be this easy and comfortable. He imagined that he would always be able to move freely across the country with like-minded companions. Then he reminded himself, that in a few short days, he would be trading away this freedom so that Eyes Like the Sky and New Promise could learn the old ways and discover what it meant to be Cheyenne. Running Wolf knew that if the Cheyenne or any of the tribes were to survive, it was going to be through the children. Still, he couldn't stop reeling from the bitterness that Sully and his family could visit with their friends, then return to their life of freedom, while he and his family remained like prisoners. He wondered what differences there were between himself and Sully that could justify such disparate futures.

Katie faced the line forming in front of her. Eyes Like the Sky faced Katie with his back to the line and his arms stretched out on either side. Behind the two of them, the rest of the party was lined up with Running Wolf leading the line followed by Sully, Brian, Dorothy, Night Crane, Michaela, and Josef. Each person held onto the waist of the person in front of him or her. New Promise lay sleeping in his basket near the front of the line so his parents could keep a watchful eye on him.

When the game began, Katie dashed toward the line as she tried to get behind Eyes Like the Sky to touch Running Wolf. Eyes Like the Sky was quicker than her as he ran toward her, throwing his arms up in the air. He jumped back and forth in front of Katie, holding her at bay. Katie tried to duck under his arm to tag Running Wolf, but Eyes Like the Sky cut her off. Sully and Brian were trying hard to muffle their laughter at the sight of the two children jumping back and forth with their arms swinging wildly in the air. After a few cackles escaped from their mouths, they were quieted by a gentle reprimand from Michaela, reminding them not to tease the children. The line moved from side to side as Katie unsuccessfully tried to tag someone.

Deciding another tactic was in order, she stopped to analyze the situation, weighing her options. Without warning, she jumped toward Eyes Like the Sky, hoping to catch him off guard, but he was quicker and jumped in front of her, blocking her path. Frustrated, she faked a dash to her right, then her left. When he followed to her left, she got around him to tag Running Wolf. He was out.

"I got him!" she yelled in excitement, surprised by her success.

"Nice goin', Katie," Sully congratulated.

"I'm gonna get you next," she told her father, bolstered by her newfound confidence.

"I think Eyes Like the Sky is onto you now," Brian warned. "Try another move."

Katie dashed toward her father, but Eyes Like the Sky was already waiting to block her advance. Brian stepped out of line to lift Josef up, holding him to his body as a blocker.

"Katie, now you can tag Joe," Brian said. He could barely control his laughter as he held his little brother out in front of him.

"Put me down!" Josef yelled, kicking his legs and squirming to break free. "I want to be in the back."

"Brian, this isn't how the game is played," Michaela scolded, while trying to contain the slight grin creeping across her face.

"How would you know?" Sully teased. Then he moved to the back of the line and grabbed Michaela by the waist, spinning her around so she was now in front of him. "Katie, your ma's an easy target now."

"Sully!"

Not even Night Crane could contain the smile on her face as she tried to restore order. "Everyone needs to return to their original places."

When the line formed again, Katie studied the row of people as they moved from side to side. Eyes Like the Sky was younger than her, but he was taller and stronger. She decided her only advantage was to confuse him. After some hesitation, she began darting to one side and then the other as Eyes Like the Sky followed to keep her from tagging anyone else. Katie ducked, as if attempting to go under his arm. When the boy ducked too, Katie sprang to her feet, got around his outstretched arm and tagged Dorothy out.

Brian and Josef teased Eyes Like the Sky for being bested by a girl, while Michaela encouraged her daughter to continue to rely on skill over strength. For her next move, Katie set her sights on tagging out her father. Katie darted to one side, and then the other, as the game continued well into the afternoon.

* * * * *

The families gathered around the campfire for supper, worn out from their game. Michaela and Night Crane had combined their talents to prepare a rabbit stew that was eagerly awaited by the hungry crowd. In his exhaustion, Josef had fallen asleep with his head on his father's lap, as Sully sat quietly whittling a piece of wood. Nearby, Brian and Katie were teaching Eyes Like the Sky to play checkers.

"What do you write in your newspaper, Dorothy?" Running Wolf asked. He dangled his beads near New Promise and watched as the baby tried to grab them and put them in his mouth.

"Katie did that when she was a baby," Sully said, watching New Promise's determined efforts to grab hold of the beads. He wistfully thought back to his children at that same age and marveled at how fast the time went. He brought his hand up to stroke Josef's hair, careful not to wake him.

Dorothy tucked her pencil behind her ear and set aside her notebook. "Mostly I write about the news in our town. Sometimes it's a new business coming, a wedding, or a new baby. When I can, I also try to include important news from the rest of the country."

"Brian wrote an article about when I was born?" Katie supplied, holding a plate out for a portion of stew.

"How do you decide on the stories to print?" Running Wolf asked. He had grown curious about the role of journalism in white society from spending time with Dorothy and Brian.

"Well…I print whatever is the biggest news at the time and what I think readers will be interested in," she replied, shifting in her seat to face Running Wolf directly.

"But, who decides what's the biggest news?" he persisted, reaching for a plate of food from his wife.

"I do," Dorothy said, becoming unnerved by the intensity of his hard stare. "But, I'm not sure I know what you're gettin' at, Running Wolf."

The Indian rubbed his chin. "Say a lumber mill was coming to town. It was going to destroy an elk habitat, but provide 50 new jobs for white men. On the same day, forty people died of cholera on an Indian reservation." He stopped for a moment, turning toward Sully. "What was the name of the reservation you worked on?"

"Palmer Creek," he answered, intrigued by where the Indian was going with his questions.

"Yes, Palmer Creek, right outside of town. Which story would be on the front page?"

"The story about the lumber mill," Dorothy replied, somewhat embarrassed.

"Why?"

"Because it's big news when a new business comes to town offering jobs."

"Bigger news than the death of forty people?" Running Wolf challenged, his fork poised over his plate.

Dorothy lowered her eyes to the ground. "Well…no."

"What if it were forty white people who died in a train crash?" he continued.

"That would make the front page," Brian put in, before taking a large spoonful of stew.

"Why would the death of forty white people be more newsworthy than the death of forty Indians?"

"It wouldn't," Dorothy defended, her face flushed. She moved the food around her plate. "I have an audience Running Wolf. If I want to sell papers, I need to give people the news that matters to them. No, that's not quite right," she stammered, flustered. "I would write about the Indians, just not on the front page if those other stories happened at the same time."

"It ain't right, but most folks don't care ‘bout Indians' sufferin'," Sully added.

"So, you could not sell papers if you reported on the death of forty Indians?" Running Wolf asked.

"I'm not saying that," she answered with frustration. "I've printed lots of stories about the Indians, but I don't print everything that happens. What are you trying to get at?"

Running Wolf swallowed his food. "Newspapers have the power to shape what information the public receives. It's not a power to be taken lightly. Your paper could be used to influence people to think in a different way."

"I don't take it lightly, Running Wolf," Dorothy insisted, her frustration rising at the continued barrage of questions and veiled accusations. "And I have printed many views that went against the town in an attempt to provide folks with new information. A newspaper isn't meant to tell folks how to think, but to report the facts and let people decide for themselves."

By his questions, Sully could tell that Running Wolf had more knowledge of the ways of the white world than he had let on.

"Dorothy's articles have done a lot of good," Michaela defended. "She wrote one of the only true accounts of what happened at Washita."

Night Crane grasped her husband's hand. "You printed the truth?"

"Yes, but it wasn't published outside of Colorado Springs. No one believed it. They thought Custer was a hero," Dorothy explained, her guard still up. The last thing she wanted was another round of questions about what she had written about Washita.

"Some hero, coming into a camp of mostly women and children in the dead of night," Night Crane said bitterly, catching herself.

Sully gave her a curious look, noticing an odd intonation in her voice. When she didn't elaborate, he dismissed it. "The time Michaela treated an escaped Indian in our barn an' got arrested, Dorothy wrote an article embarrassin' the government, convincin' ‘em ta let ‘er go," he provided. "And when we get home, Brian's gonna write ‘bout how it's wrong ta force the Indians onto reservations."

"I need to see the reservation to know what I'm going to write," Brian corrected, bristling from Sully's presumption.

Sully wasn't sure what he had said to offend Brian. "'Couse ya do. But, they say Darlington's even worse than Palmer Creek. If ya ask me, they're all the same. Nothin' more than prisons."

"Maybe they don't have to be," Brian replied, in nearly a whisper.

"What do ya mean?" Sully asked, moderating his tone. "Ya saw how the government made ‘em live on Palmer Creek."

Brian took a deep breath. He had been thinking about possible ways to help the Indians given the reality of the times. It seemed to him that Sully refused to accept that the country wasn't going back to the way it used to be. "Times are changing. People are moving further and further west and taking more of the land. The way we all live and work is changing. To survive, the Indians will need to change, too. They can't live like they used to."

"I agree with that Brian, but who's to decide how we change?" Running Wolf asked.

"You should," Brian responded.

"If the government was going to let us choose for ourselves, why did they put us on reservations in the first place?" Running Wolf asked the young man.

"From what I saw and read, part of it was for your protection," Brian answered weakly.

"Or was it for your protection?" Running Wolf countered.

"Both," Brian acknowledged.

"And now you believe we can have a say in how the reservations are operated?" Running Wolf asked skeptically.

"They can't have a say in how a reservation's run," Sully retorted.

"Not now, but perhaps in the future," Michaela offered, attempting to lessen the rising tension in the air.

"Maybe not the way they're run today, but why couldn't they change?" Brian challenged, his voice growing louder with the confidence of his ideas. "I've been thinking that it might not be the policy that's wrong, but the execution of the policy. Reservations may have been the best alternative to seeing the Indians killed off. It's wrong to withhold rations and medical care and to stop them from practicing their religion, but it's not a bad idea to teach the Indians English and how to get along in our world. I'm starting to think we have to fix the reservation system, not abandon it."

"Brian has a point, Sully," Dorothy said.

"You can't fix it!" Sully responded. His tone was more forceful than he intended. "The government's policy is ta make ‘em white. They wanna strip ‘em of what makes ‘em Indian."

"Sully, it is important to give the Indians choices in life," Michaela said, hoping to diffuse his temper. She could tell he was having a hard time keeping it in check by the way his jaw was working and the way he held his arms stiffly across his chest.

"But, shouldn't they be our choices, not yours," Night Crane challenged.

"Of course," Michaela replied.

"Why can't the Indians have more of a voice in running the reservation?" Brian asked.

"The Government's never gonna agree ta that. They don't want ‘em ta have a voice. Don't ya see, they don't wanna help ‘em. I know. I tried." Sully's face was tight with emotion.

Running Wolf was moved by the passion in Sully's voice. He wished he understood how this white man came to care so much about his people. There was more he wished to ask both Brian and Sully, but for now, he would stay out of what had become a father-son debate.

"So what's your answer? Break ‘em out, bring about anarchy so lots of people can die on both sides," Brian challenged. Then he drew on the most destructive weapon in his arsenal to lash back. "Is treason your only solution?"

"Brian," Michaela warned with a stern voice.

Sully remained silent at his accusation. Dorothy understood both perspectives in this situation and held her tongue. Running Wolf and Night Crane felt like intruders in a private family quarrel of which they knew nothing about.

Katie leaned into her mother, frightened by the raised voices. "Why is Brian mad at Papa?"

Michaela draped an arm around her daughter. "They're not mad, sweetheart. They are merely having a spirited debate."

"They sound mad," Katie observed.

Sully's eyes were frigid and remote. "They shoulda given ‘em their own land like they promised. They could have set aside land like a national park an' allowed the tribes ta live their own way. Let ‘em run things without the government tellin' ‘em what ta do."

Hectic color stained Brian's cheeks as he stared hard at Sully. "That's a nice idea, Sully, but no one would agree to that. With all the people moving west, the appetite for land is too strong. It's not right, I know. But, maybe now, what we need to do, is fight to improve the reservations," Brian suggested. His calm tone disguised his mounting frustration at the inability to have a rational conversation with his father about the situation.

"So now you're willin' ta settle for havin' ‘em live on reservations. I don't know how you can even justify that after all you've seen." Sully was seething and waging an internal battle to keep his rage from pouring out. "Is that what you'd tell No Harm or Snow Bird?"

A sudden shiver coursed through Night Crane at the sound of the names.

Brian rose to his feet, frustrated at having his ideas regarded as a betrayal of the Cheyenne. "You never listen! When it comes to the Cheyenne, you think you know better than anyone else. You have all the answers." Brian was trembling from the tension. He knew he didn't have all the answers and he wasn't even sure how to fix the reservation system, only that they should explore different options and try. Though his ideas were not fully formed, there was one thing he did feel strongly about, however, and he looked his father directly in the eye before speaking. "I haven't seen your way fix anything, Sully." Without waiting for a reply, Brian stormed off into the darkness.

The noise woke Josef up. "Papa." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Why is everyone yellin'?"

Sully held him close to his chest. "It's nothin', Joe."

Michaela rose to her feet. "I'll go speak with him."

"It don't sound like nothing," Josef said, looking back at his father.

"Leave ‘em be," Sully told Michaela. His tone sounded like an order.

Dorothy watched Michaela in sympathy, wondering what she'd do.

"I can't leave him be," she said, as she turned and headed in the direction Brian had gone, pulling her shawl tightly across her shoulders.

Sully rested his chin in his hand. "I don't know what's got into ‘im. Brian used ta think pretty much as I do ‘bout the Indians. He knew the Cheyenne growin' up. He knew the pain of losing a friend at Washita," he told Running Wolf and Night Crane.

"He also knew the pain of almost losing his father, of being separated from him for months and not knowing whether he'd ever come home again," Dorothy added, giving Sully another perspective. "He knew the terror of wondering whether you'd be shot for treason or if his mother would be jailed for aiding a fugitive. And this wasn't the first time he saw either his ma or pa in jail."

Running Wolf shared a glance at his wife wondering what Sully might have done that could be considered treason.

Sully's shoulders slumped. He wondered if he'd ever be able to put his actions at Palmer Creek in the past. He knew the strain his time in hiding had placed on Michaela. It had taken them months to regain their trust in each other again. Katie was too young to remember any of it. During that period, Sully thought Brian understood and accepted his actions. Now, he wondered if he had taken enough time to fully appreciate the impact it had on Brian.

"Who were No Harm and Snow Bird?" Eyes Like the Sky asked timidly.

"No Harm was a friend of Brian's. He was his na'heo," Sully explained.

"What's na…?" Katie asked.

"His blood brother," Eyes Like the Sky told her. "And Snow Bird?"

"Snow Bird was the wife of my best friend, a Cheyenne medicine man. You'll meet him when we get to the reservation."

"What happened to them?" the boy asked. In the pit of his stomach he already knew the answer.

"They were killed at Washita," Sully replied. Those words silenced the camp for several moments.

Running Wolf cleared his throat. "Sully, you raised your son to think for himself. I tried on many different robes before I discovered the one that fit me best was the one my father had made for me."

Sully looked up. "You think that's what he's doin'?"

"I do. When he sees the reservation, he will not be able to deny the truth. But, perhaps his generation can help change them for the better," Running Wolf said hopefully.

"He has an honest heart," Night Crane added.

"He always has," Sully said, his voice reflecting his sorrow.

* * * * *

Michaela found Brian sitting on the top of a cliff overlooking the Cimarron River. Slowly, she approached him from behind, easing her steps as she drew near.

"Brian, may I join you?" his mother asked, careful to remain several feet back so as not to intrude on his private space.

Brian turned his head to face her then patted the ground next to him. Michaela stepped toward him and took a seat on the hard rock. The two sat in silence, staring into the slow moving river for several minutes. Michaela eased her arm around his shoulder to comfort him.

"Do you want to talk about what happened back at camp?" his mother asked. There was no trace of judgment in her tone, only concern.

"No." Brian tossed a rock over the cliff and watched it land hard into the river. "No one cares what I think."

"That's not true. Sully and I both care very much about what you think. Very much. We want you to think for yourself," his mother reassured, resting her hand on his arm.

"Pa doesn't," he said bitterly.

"Of course he does."

"It don't seem like it." Brian balled his hands into fists in his lap.

"More than anyone I have ever known, Sully allows people to be true to who they are. He doesn't attempt to change people's minds. I'm usually the one who does that," she said with a soft chuckle.

"Then why'd he say what I was gonna write about the reservation?" Brian hurled another rock into the river in frustration.

"The two of you have always shared a common perspective about the Cheyenne. But, I'm quite certain he will listen to you if you have formed a different point of view." Michaela tightened her shawl around her shoulders, as the night air grew chilly.

"He wasn't listenin' back at the camp," Brian pointed out.

"Brian, it's very hard for Sully to accept what's happened to the Cheyenne. They were, and continue to be, such an important part of his life. I'm certain neither you nor I can fully understand the pain he's experienced seeing what has become of his family. The pain of watching friends murdered and their culture annihilated has been excruciating. He could have given up, but he didn't. When he was an Indian Agent, he tried to make life better for all the Indians at Palmer Creek, but his efforts were constantly thwarted. Out of anger at the injustice and a sense of helplessness, he took actions into his own hands at the reservation. I don't blame him for that. And I can't blame him for being cynical now. But, he loves you, Brian. He will listen to what you have to say. He just needs time to get used to your ideas."

"Sully's so angry at the government."

"Can you blame him? He saw what happened at Sand Creek and Washita. People he loved were killed just for who they are. How could he not be angry?"

"I know," Brian said softly. "I'm angry about that, too. But, I figure it's time to find some middle ground. There's got to be a way to help the Indians keep their culture and still teach them how to survive in our world."

"Brian, I have always hoped for that middle ground, too. But, you need to ask what kind of future the Cheyenne will have if the children can't remember their language or if their stories and history are lost to future generations? Sully fears the reservations represent the loss of an entire culture. I can't even begin to comprehend a loss of that magnitude. Can you?"

"No." Brian looked down toward the river, which could only be heard and not seen against the blackness of the night. "But, there has to be a way for them to learn English and learn how to live in the white world while preserving their culture. The immigrants have done it."

"Some have, but many of their children only speak English. They know nothing of the country their forefathers came from. And the immigrants chose to come to this country for a better life. The Indians only wanted to be left alone, to live as they had for generations. Their situations aren't comparable."

"Miss Teresa still speaks Spanish and prepares Mexican meals. She maintains her culture."

"Yes, but their children only speak English."

"They could learn Spanish if they wanted."

"Brian, I truly feel that you and Sully need to have this conversation. He will listen to you, but you need to listen to him too."

Brian shook his head. "It's too hard to talk to Pa about this."

"It never used to be." Michaela patted his hand. "Brian, I don't believe your confusion is only about a disagreement with Sully over the Cheyenne. You have been preoccupied throughout this entire trip. Is something more on your mind?"

Brian didn't answer for a long time. "Sometimes…sometimes…it's nothing."

"Please tell me what's bothering you," his mother urged.

"Were you always sure you wanted to be a doctor?"

"Yes."

"You never considered becoming anything else?"

No, but I did wonder if I would ever be able to realize my dream. If I couldn't become a doctor, I wasn't certain what I would do with my life," she admitted. "Brian, you are bright and caring. You can be whatever you choose to be. Sometimes being faced with too many choices is more confusing than having a burning desire for one. But, I know whatever you choose, it will be right for you.

"Sometimes I'm not sure what I think about things or what I want to do with my life."

"This is a confusing time for you," Michaela acknowledged, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

"How will I know what's right for me? I have so many interests that it's hard to decide on just one."

"You'll know what's right for you. You'll feel it."

"You make it sound easy."

"It's not easy at all. And you don't have to decide now. Brian, Sully and I trust that you'll make the right decisions. You're correct that the world is changing. There will be new problems requiring creative solutions. I believe you can make a difference if you stay true to what's in your heart."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"Thanks Ma," Brian told her, smiling for the first time all evening.

Michaela reached out her hand to him. "Why don't we head back to the campsite?"

"You go on ahead. I want to stay here a little longer."

"Don't be too long. We have a long day of travel tomorrow."

"I won't. Goodnight."

* * * * *

"Are you asleep?" Michaela asked. Hearing no response, she crawled under her bedroll and slid next to Sully, warming herself against the heat of his body. Sully lay with his eyes closed in that place somewhere near sleep, but not quite in its full embrace. "Goodnight, Sully," she whispered. She spooned herself against him, closed her eyes, then found his hand beneath the blanket and curled her fingers around it.

"Ahhh!" He instinctively yanked his hand away. "Your hand's cold!" He rolled over onto his back, took her hand between both of his and rubbed to warm it up.

"I thought you were sleeping," Michaela said. She raised herself up and rested on her elbow looking down at him.

"Just about. Then I felt these icicles," he teased, holding up her fingers.

"It's chilly out tonight," she excused, her tone apologetic.

"Come here." He urged her to move closer. Michaela inched forward, resting her head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her, his hand gently pressed against her back. "How's Brian?"

"Confused."

"'Bout what?" he asked, as his hand drew lazy circles on her back through the light flannel material of her nightgown.

"The direction of his life," she said, nestling into his embrace. "The Indians, the future, how he wants to make a difference with his life."

"He told you all that?"

"In a way."

Sully ran his fingers through her hair. "Lately, we can't talk like we used to. One of us ends up gettin' angry. I shouldn't have gotten so riled up."

"Sully, the Cheyenne are a sensitive topic for you," Michaela noted. She rested her palm on his chest, aware of the way the moonlight illuminated his angular features.

"I assumed Brian thought the same as me ‘bout ‘em."

"I believe he does, but he has also seen how most of your efforts haven't worked. It's natural for him to ask whether there isn't another way." She smoothed the hair on his chest. "Don't look at it as an indictment of your choices."

"It's hard not to. Seems like Brian's questionin' everythin' I do an' I'm comin' up short."

She held him tighter. "Never. He adores you. But, it's like you once told me when I was going through something similar with Colleen."

"What's that?"

"He's trying to step out of your shadow, to be his own person. It's quite a tall shadow, Sully."

"Runnin' Wolf says he's tryin' on different robes."

"Exactly. Brian is growing up in a different time than you and I. He's going to be faced with new choices and different ways of addressing problems. He may explore variant ideas, but in his heart, he knows what's right. We have to trust that he'll choose the correct path."

"Until then, we just get through it?" He brought her hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

"It's all we can do," she said, reaching across to take his other hand in hers and squeezing it gently. "Sully, I'd like you to try to speak with Brian about his thoughts while we're at the reservation. He wants the same thing you do for the Cheyenne. He's still idealistic enough to assume we just haven't found the right way yet. Perhaps we haven't."

"I'll listen to ‘im."

"And try to be patient with him."

"I'm usually the one tellin' you ta let the kids be," he said, noting the irony.

"Perhaps some of your wisdom has rubbed off on me."

"Perhaps," he replied, tenderly kissing the top of her head, as his eyes grew heavy with sleep.

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Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen

Having gotten an early start in the morning, the families traveled hard for hours, stopping briefly to rest the horses and to eat a light lunch. In the afternoon, they resumed their travels through the dry, open high plains of Oklahoma, the land seeming to stretch out endlessly before them. All around them, the grass had turned golden in the sweltering summer sun.

"Is it always this dry?" Dorothy asked from her seat beside Michaela in the wagon. They could hear the brittle grass crackle as the wheels turned beneath them.

Michaela stared out at the brown tinged blades of long grass. "Sully said it's fairly common for the plains to experience severe drought in the summer, but it seems early in the season for the grass to be quite this dry."

"I wonder how the farmers manage," the older woman mused, opening her parasol to shield her eyes from the sun's scorching rays.

Michaela scanned the land before her and tried to imagine what might grow in this climate. She wondered how the Indians were expected to farm on land so arid.

"I don't think I've ever seen land so flat," Dorothy said, gazing out toward the horizon. "It feels like we're out in the middle of nowhere."

Michaela flicked the reins urging the horses to move faster and keep pace with Sully and Brian in the lead. "It looks like a golden brown ocean."

"It looks more like a large pancake," her friend quipped. "I have to admit, I prefer the mountains of Colorado."

"So do I," Michaela agreed. "There's no other place quite like Colorado. I think I appreciate it even more when I visit new places."

"Mama, are we almost there?" Josef was standing in the back of the wagon leaning onto his mother's seat for balance.

"Josef, please sit down," Michaela reminded him once again, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Josef lowered himself to his knees. "Well, when are we gonna get there?"

"Soon, sweetheart," his mother replied, her eyes focused on the path in front of her. "Sometime tomorrow we'll arrive at the reservation. Then we won't have to ride in the wagon again for two whole weeks. How does that sound?"

"Good," the little boy said. "I'm sick of bein' in the wagon."

"Me, too," Katie piped in, as she scooted toward the front of the wagon on her knees. "Can I ride a horse when we get to the reservation?"

Michaela handed the reins to Dorothy so she could turn around and face her children. "Katie, we should be able to find a horse for you to ride. But, right now I need both of you to return to the back and sit down."

"We are sitting down," Katie said, lowering her backside onto her heels.

"You both know perfectly well what I mean." Michaela's voice grew stern. "If the wagon were to jostle, you could get hurt."

"All right," the children replied in unison, as they brought themselves to a sitting position.

"They're restless," Dorothy remarked. She handed the reins back to Michaela and picked up her parasol, holding it tight as the wind picked up.

"We're all a little restless. It's been a long trip, even longer than we expected." Michaela brushed aside the hair that had blown in her face. "I know I'll be happy to stop moving. It will be nice to relax and visit with friends."

"I hope it's relaxing," Dorothy said, before growing quiet. As much as she wanted the traveling to end, the closer they got to the reservation, the more questions came into her mind.

"Dorothy, are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied. "My mind is racing with so many questions. How are they living, is Cloud Dancing all right, and will he be glad I came?"

Michaela reached across to place a reassuring hand on her arm. "I'm certain he will be very glad you came."

"Does Sully know anything about the Indian Agent at Darlington?" Dorothy asked, eyeing a flock of cawing crows in hurried flight above them.

Michaela noticed the birds, too, and wondered if they had passed a dead animal. "His name is John Miles. He's known to be strict, but fair."

"I'd say that's an improvement over some of the other agents." Dorothy closed her parasol and tossed it under the seat. "My goodness, this wind. And look at the sky. It's awfully dark up ahead."

"Perhaps a storm is coming," she said, as she tried to pull back her windswept hair. "This land could certainly use the rain. Those crows probably flew for cover from the storm."

"They don't look like storm clouds," Dorothy observed with concern.

"No, they don't," Michaela murmured. "Sully!" She called to her husband up ahead.

Sully turned around at the sound of her voice. "What?"

"The sky is so dark up ahead."

"It's smoke. Probably a fire up ahead. Nothin' ta worry ‘bout. We'll go around it," he said with borrowed confidence.

"Smoke," Michaela echoed in a whisper, her eyes glancing uneasily toward the dry grass.

With an eye on a sky that appeared to be growing darker and more ominous, Running Wolf rode up beside Sully. "That's smoke from a wildfire. We must get out of its path."

"I was thinkin' the same thing," Sully replied, noticing flashes of red mixed in with gray. What from a distance seemed like an isolated fire now loomed larger and more menacing.

Running Wolf pulled back on the reins to stop his horse. Sully rode toward the wagon holding up his hand for Michaela to stop, while Brian rode to the rear and informed Night Crane of the fire. The horses in front of the wagon neighed loudly as they nervously stomped their hooves in the grass.

"The wind is accelerating the fire," Running Wolf told everyone as they gathered around the wagon. "We have to go around it."

"How?" Michaela asked, her voice trembling.

"We'll ride north. If we can get to a grove of trees or anywhere else where the land isn't as dry, we'll be safe," Sully said. "Put all the kids in the wagon, along with everyone's belongin's, an' me an' Runnin' Wolf ‘ll steer it through. Michaela, you follow behind with Night Crane and Dorothy."

"All right," Michaela replied, as she climbed down from her seat. She retrieved her medical bag from the back, leaving behind some ointment and bandages. After placing her bag on the saddle horn, she mounted her horse and positioned herself next to Night Crane and Dorothy behind the wagon.

"Michaela, is this like the prairie fire you told me about on the cattle drive?" Dorothy asked, her voice quivering. As the flames and smoke moved closer, her concern grew, almost approaching a terror that threatened to paralyze her.

Michaela gazed out at the ominous black smoke, aware that this fire was much larger than the one they encountered back then. "It's something like it," she replied in an attempt to calm her friend as well as herself.

"We will be fine," Night Crane told both women as she handed her baby to her husband.

"Mama! Stay with us," Katie cried, as she peered out the back, her brother at her side.

"It's all right, sweethearts. I'll be right behind you," her mother reassured. As the roaring noise of the fire grew closer, the horse reared up on its hind legs almost throwing Michaela off. With Brian's help, she calmed the horse.

Running Wolf helped Eyes Like the Sky into the wagon then handed him the baby. "Quickly, we must hurry."

"Brian, I want you in the wagon with the kids," Sully told him.

"But, Pa…I'm not a kid."

"Brian, I need ya ta keep the kids safe. You'll need ta calm ‘em and make sure everyone stays seated and huddled together," Sully explained.

Brian understood and climbed into the wagon without further complaint. Sully tied Brian's horse to the back of the wagon and, with Running Wolf's help, transferred the items from the travois.

When everyone was settled and their supplies secured, Sully leapt into the wagon and grabbed the reins, flicking them along the backs of the horses, urging them to go faster. Running Wolf pulled himself up beside him, and the two men guided the horses toward the north. Night Crane, Michaela and Dorothy followed behind on horseback.

The dark gray sky glowed red in the distance. It was brightening and widening. Even by changing course, they weren't certain they could outrun it. The distant wall of blazing red-hot flames moved closer, marching and advancing across the plains like an army, destroying everything in its path.

* * * * *

"Brian, I'm scared," Josef said. He was huddled with Katie in the back of the wagon staring down the encroaching wall of flames. Brian held both children in front of him with his arms draped over their shoulders.

"I'm scared, too," Katie said, as she put her arm around her younger brother, trembling with fear. From his seat next to Brian, Eyes Like the Sky held New Promise tight to his chest.

"Don't worry," Brian said to calm them, though his own heart was pounding fast. "Pa‘ll figure something out." He watched with unease as the long band of red light against the horizon moved toward them.

Sully and Running Wolf pushed the horses hard, harder than they should be ridden given the weight in the wagon. Both of them knew they couldn't keep up this pace for long.

"Sully," Running Wolf called to get his attention. Sully glanced over at him, noticing the anxious expression on his face. "There's a stream several miles to the west. We'll be safe if we can make it there."

"How do ya know?" Sully yelled over the roar of the advancing fire, and the pounding of the horse's hooves.

"I know the territory," he replied. "Trust me."

Sully didn't know how he knew this land so well, but he trusted him. "All right, let's go."

Running Wolf pulled up on the reins, guiding the wagon to the left. The women followed close behind on horseback. Michaela could already feel the smoke as it grew more intense, and she rummaged for a bandana to cover her mouth. Dorothy followed her lead, scrambling for the kerchief she kept tucked inside her blouse. Despite the fear welling up inside of them, the three women continued to ride hard, keeping up with the men and children in the wagon ahead.

It seemed that no matter how fast they rode, the fire continued to gain on them. As they raced toward the stream, the area burning to the east began to grow wider and rise higher.

The wind intensified, transforming the blaze into a fierce torrent of flames, which curled up and leaped along, its hot breath threatening destruction. The sea of flames, crackling and roaring, climbed high in the sky like tall red and orange columns, as dark clouds of smoke reached skyward, changing it from a bright blue to a reddish black.

Sully's eyes were fixed on the fire roaring toward them like a runaway train. "It's comin' too fast," he shouted.

"I know," Running Wolf replied. He desperately urged the horses to move even faster. They both knew they couldn't outrun the fire, but they had to try. Despite the incredible odds stacked against them, it was all they could do.

From a safe distance, they might have marveled at the sheer magnificence of such a force of nature. However, with their lives in danger, the majestic beauty of this towering inferno was overshadowed by the terror of a demon beyond their control.

"Sully!" Michaela called. She rode up alongside him, coughing, as smoke filled her lungs.

"We gotta keep movin', Michaela," Sully yelled, forcing the horses to go even faster.

"We can't outrun it," she shouted, struggling to keep up as her eyes burned and her chest felt thick with smoke.

"We got no choice," Sully replied, hacking from the smoke in his lungs.

"Sully, we can't outrun this fire," she argued, panic rising with her. "There must be some other way."

"We need ta keep goin' toward the stream. We can't slow down now," Sully insisted, flicking the reins with greater urgency.

Night Crane rode up beside her husband. She too, had to cough before she could speak. "I have an idea."

"What do you suggest?" Running Wolf asked, though he continued to push the horses forward.

"We need to set another fire," Night Crane replied.

"Another fire? What good is that when we can't even keep ahead of this one?" Michaela asked, incredulous.

"It just might work," Running Wolf answered, easing up on the reins to slow down the horses. "We need to deprive the fire of its fuel source. If we were to start another fire, when the two fires came together, they would fight each other and eventually die away or change direction. When warring tribes used fire against one another on the Plains, setting a counter fire was the only way for the tribe being attacked to save their camp. It's our only chance."

"I read about a farmer in Kansas who saved his farm by setting a fire to fight a prairie fire," Dorothy supplied, having joined her friends.

Sully and Michaela looked at each other as they considered the idea, both of them thinking it might work. But, even more importantly, they had run out of options. They would all burn to death if they didn't try something soon. At the rate the fire was moving, it would be impossible to reach the stream in time.

Sully drew the wagon to a halt. "How we gonna make a fire that big," he asked out loud, though he was talking mostly to himself.

"I've got something," Night Crane said, as she pulled out a piece of flint.

Running Wolf took the flint from his wife and watched as the fire continued to press forward from the east like a roaring tornado. "Sully and I will ride out toward the fire to meet it, and then we will set the other fire. You stay here with the children." He climbed down from the wagon and borrowed his wife's horse; Sully took Flash.

Michaela reached out to touch her husband's arm. "Please be careful."

"Always." He briefly caressed her face then swiftly mounted Flash and rode out toward the fire. Running Wolf mounted the other horse and followed closely behind Sully.

The women and children waited at a safe distance silently praying their plan would work. Few words were spoken among them as they watched the fire rage toward them like a hurricane, their nerves on edge.

A short, but safe, distance away, Running Wolf crouched down with the piece of flint. It took only a few seconds for the long stems of dry, brittle grass to begin to smoke before they ignited into flames. Nearby, Sully had lit another fire hoping the two fires would join into one to fight the raging inferno. When the two small fires were lit, both men fanned the flames then stepped back to watch as the small fires became one and spread rapidly, fueled by the wind and dry grass. It didn't take long for the fire to grow stronger and bigger, engulfing the area around them. Through a haze of smoke, Sully and Running Wolf mounted their horses and rode back to the wagon just as the heat began to scorch their skin. They hoped their efforts would slow or redirect the fire and not feed it further. Back with the others, they watched and waited for the two fires to collide.

The main fire continued its march forward, lighting and heating the sky. The travelers watched as the new, smaller fire reached for the giant enemy. Now fire was fighting fire. Both fires whirled and twisted into one crimson inferno, flames shooting upward at least fifty feet into the air. The burning grass crackled and hissed. It was impossible to tell the fires apart as they continued their fiery dance.

Several minutes later, the crimson monster appeared to be turning its course. The counter-fire the men had set had successfully battled the larger mass of flames, causing it to seek easier passage to the south. In its wake, it left a narrow strip of charred blackened and barren land beckoning the travelers to safety.

Sully was finally able to let out the breath he was holding. "We gotta hurry. With this wind, it could turn back at any time." Swiftly, the men assumed their seats in the wagon.

The great fire moved to the south. It was still close enough that black ashes rained down all around them. They could feel the heat of the flames and hear its mighty roar. Running Wolf and Sully guided the wagon as fast as they could through the charred path and away from immediate danger. Eventually, the wagon broke through the smoky haze. The further away they got from the fire, the density of the smoke lessened, allowing them to breath easier.

The women galloped close behind and watched as the wagon disappeared into the thick, swirling cloud of gray in front of them, presumably to safety on the other side. Their eyes stung from the smoke and their own path to safety began to blur as the wind abruptly shifted.

A fierce gust blew across the counter-fire, dragging a portion of its flames across the barren trail that the wagon had just traveled. All of a sudden, a new fire ignited in their way, blocking their course and impeding their ability to follow behind the others.

With loud neighs of fright, all three horses reared back on their hind legs. Night Crane was tossed to the ground. In an instant, Michaela leapt off her horse and was by her friend's side, as the flames surrounded them. She helped Night Crane back on her horse before mounting her own horse, as the heat intensified. The three women moved quickly through the hazy smoke when they suddenly stopped short. A huge wall of flames blocked their passage. They were trapped.

* * * * *

When they were no longer in danger from the fire, Running Wolf pulled up on the reins to stop the horses. A shadow fell across his face as he stood, covered in black ash, stunned by the charred surface of the land, dotted white by the ruined nests of prairie hens.

"Is everyone all right?" Sully turned around to check on the children who were crouched low, huddled together with Brian.

"Yeah, we're fine," Brian answered, as he stretched out his legs from their cramped position.

"Is it over now, Papa?" Katie asked, crawling forward on her knees to be near her father.

"It's over. We're safe now." Sully jumped down from the wagon noticing the black soot and holes in the canvas cover. The smell of smoke was everywhere, their clothes, their hair, and their supplies. He turned away from the singed canvas to lift Katie to the ground. "Michaela, are all o' you all right?"

There was no answer.

"Michaela," he called again, as he helped Josef to the ground.

"Night Crane," Running Wolf called. He held the baby over his shoulder, coughing from the smoke in his lungs. Hearing nothing in return, he exchanged an anxious glance with Sully as the two men walked around to the rear of the wagon.

"Night Crane!" Running Wolf's heart thumped, wild with fear, when he realized the women weren't there.

"Give ‘em time. They'll be here," Sully said, refusing to even consider an alternative.

Running Wolf stared straight ahead into the smoky darkness. "I don't understand. They were right behind us."

"The smoke was real thick on the back side of the fire. Maybe they got turned around," Sully offered, by way of explanation.

"Where's Mama?" Josef asked. He clutched his father's hand, frightened.

Sully drew the little boy in front of him, draping his arms over his shoulders, as he stood fixed in place, waiting for Michaela to emerge through the thick smoke. "Don't worry. She'll be here."

Running Wolf gave him a troubled look. "I hope you're right."

"I gotta be right," he whispered. Sully couldn't take his eyes off of the path they had just taken, expecting that, at any moment, he would see all three women riding out of the haze. Soon the children joined their fathers and together they stood as one, silently waiting. They waited for several moments, that seemed even longer, and still no one came.

"Maybe one of them's hurt," Brian said. His gut was twisted in worry.

"Maybe," Sully murmured. "Let's ride back a ways an' see."

Running Wolf nodded then handed New Promise back to his brother, and mounted his horse.

"Brian, I need ya ta stay with the kids," Sully told him.

"Sure, Pa. Don't worry about us. Just find Ma," he said, his voice breaking.

"I will." Sully covered his nose and mouth with a bandana then mounted his horse.

Katie looked up at her father. "Mama's gonna be okay. Right?" she asked, bravely holding back tears.

"She'll be fine," he reassured, with all the confidence he could muster.

Running Wolf turned to his son. "Listen to Brian. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father," Eyes Like the Sky replied, nervous about being left alone.

The two men rode back the way they came, stunned by the destruction of the land before them. They didn't get far along the path they had taken, before it came to an abrupt halt, the area consumed in a torrid blaze. The raging flames told them the women had been trapped on the other side. Sully and Running Wolf stopped as close to the fire as they dared watching the land burn with intensity. After staring helplessly for several moments, Sully retrieved his canteen and began to douse himself with water.

Running Wolf grabbed his arm, stilling it. "You can't! No one can get through that. It's an inferno."

"I gotta try," he choked out, his head down and his voice heartbroken. "We can't just leave ‘em."

Running Wolf kept hold of his arm. "There's nothing we can do. They must have gotten trapped when the wind shifted and the fire twisted back. We have to hope they had time to change direction."

Sully lowered his canteen. "Maybe they saw the fire twist back and they rode ta where it was safe until they could find an opening."

"We have to trust that they will find a way to stay safe," Running Wolf said, fear gripping his heart.

"I need ta do something," Sully shouted in frustration.

"There's nothing we can do," Running Wolf said, sharing his frustration.

"You don't understand." Sully's voice quivered.

Running Wolf gazed into Sully's haunted eyes in silent mutual empathy, "I do."

Sully nodded in acknowledgment then turned his gaze back to the fire. "Michaela," he whispered, his eyes fixed on the enormous wall of flame.

The men stood in a silent daze. They were consumed with the desire to do something, anything to help their wives, but gradually realized there was nothing they could do, except wait. Finally Running Wolf spoke, "we should return to the children."

Filled with fear for their wives, and dreading what they were going to tell the children, Sully and Running Wolf made their way back to the wagon. All five children surrounded them and peppered them with questions that had no answers.

"Where's Mama?" Josef asked, his voice shaking from his disappointment at not seeing her.

"She's not here yet, Joe," his father explained in an even tone.

"Why didn't you find them?" Eyes Like the Sky asked, his lip trembling.

Running Wolf didn't have an answer. "She'll be back," he replied with more hope than reason.

"She's okay. Right Papa?" Katie asked, tears threatening.

"Yeah, she'll be fine," he replied, smoothing her hair. "They probably had ta go another way."

"There wasn't another way," Brian said, fear rising within him.

"Brian." Sully cut him off with a sharp glare.

"Pa, we gotta help ‘em," Brian whispered to Sully, trying not to alarm the children. "They could be trapped."

"There's nothin' we can do," Sully said, his voice pained and his face drawn with emotion. "We gotta wait."

Brian turned around and headed for his horse. Running Wolf grabbed his arm to stop him. "Sully's right, Brian. It's far too dangerous to go back."

Tears welled in his eyes. "But…."

"I know," Running Wolf said, as he guided him from the horse, squeezing his shoulder.

"Brian, she's gonna be all right," Sully reassured, as much for his own benefit as his son's. "I can feel it."

"I hope so," Brian replied, deciding he needed to trust his father.

As Sully brushed the soot and dirt from his clothes, he felt a searing pain shoot down his arm. The material on the sleeves of his shirt hung loose in tatters, having been scorched by the fire. Rolling up his sleeve, he winced slightly from the pain, revealing a large burn on the back of his forearm. His eyes instinctively recoiled from the angry burn, oozing with blisters. Holding his arm with his other hand, he walked to the back of the wagon to find the medical supplies he remembered Michaela leaving behind.

Josef followed him. He was feeling uneasy with his mother still missing and he wanted to stay close to his father. "Whatcha lookin' for?" his son asked.

"Somethin' for my arm. It's burnt," Sully replied, as he continued rummaging through their supplies.

At the sight of the ugly burn, Josef covered his eyes with his hand and turned away. "Does it hurt?"

"Some." Sully found the ointment, but first he poured water over the wound to clean it. His eyes stinging from the pain, he rubbed salve on the burn then wrapped a bandage around his arm.

"Will Mama be here soon?" Josef asked, leaning into his father.

Sully lifted him up and held him as the little boy rested his head on his father's shoulder. "Soon." He caressed his son's head while he stared out toward the red sky thinking about Michaela.

Running Wolf found Sully standing at the back of the wagon staring blankly ahead. "Our wives are smart. They will find another way to safety."

Sully didn't respond. He loathed feeling helpless. With each passing minute, he found it increasingly difficult to quell the fear and panic rising within him.

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