Part 63
Walking into the church-cum-courtroom on Friday, Michaela was reminded, even more sharply than on Wednesday, of the horrible time two years ago when Sully stood trial for treason. The fears, the sleeplessness, the nightmares that had overwhelmed her when sleep did come -- all came back in a rush as she crossed the threshold into the crowded room. This time, however, Sully was reassuringly by her side instead of being led in chains to his place in the room. Sensing her mood, he put an arm around her, drawing her close, whispering comfort into her ear. As they passed through the entryway, their path was blocked by an imposing figure. Sgt. Tanner stood, looking from one to the other, his eyes at last locking with Sully’s. Finally he stood aside to let them pass. Not a word had been said, but Michaela, nonetheless, felt as if volumes had been spoken and she shuddered inwardly.

The volume of talk in the room first fell, then rose as they made their way up the aisle. Sully went to sit with Peter at the front of the room, Michaela moving to sit directly behind him, flanked by Brian and Dorothy. Roberta, who had been talking with Peter, gave his hand a squeeze, whispered encouragement to Sully and slipped in next to Dorothy. Matthew, standing by Judge Winthrop’s table nodded and grinned at them as they arranged themselves.

At 10:00 sharp Judge Winthrop banged his gavel and Jake called for quiet, announcing that court was now in session. "We are here to complete the trial that began two years ago" the judge said, "at which Mr. Byron Sully was convicted of treason for his part in the uprising at the Palmer Creek Reservation. Because of certain mitigating factors in this case, and also because of the type of man Mr. Sully is, rather than being sentenced to death or a long prison term, he was sentenced to repair the damage that happened as a direct result of his rash act. This included a two-week stint in prison during which he was to repair the damage caused to that building as well. Mr. Sully was also required to pay restitution to the families of two soldiers who were killed during the uprising. He was given two years to complete the entire sentence and arrangements were made for a loan with Mr. Lodge’s bank to pay for supplies he would need for the project. In exchange for a large loan at reasonable rates, Mr. Sully agreed to complete Mr. Lodge’s homestead on which he had already begun construction. I arranged to return at the end of the two years to see what progress he had made and to decide if he had fully exonerated himself or if further sentencing was necessary. That is why we are here today."

There was scattered murmuring throughout the room at this and Preston turned and gave Tanner a meaningful look as Judge Winthrop continued, "I’m sure everyone present is at least somewhat aware of what happened to Mr. Lodge’s homestead, as well as the result of Wednesday’s inquiry into that matter. Because this issue is supposed to be resolved separately by the involved parties, it will not enter into today’s proceedings." Preston opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, looking frustrated.

The judge shuffled some of the papers in front of him. "Yesterday Sheriff Matthew Cooper, Mayor Jake Slicker, representing your town, Mr. Peter Taylor on behalf of Mr. Sully, Sgt. Tanner on behalf of the U.S. Army, and myself , visited the homesteads and other sites that Mr. Sully either repaired or rebuilt according to his sentence. I also took statements from the people on whose homesteads he worked." Winthrop glanced down at his papers. "Mr. Homer Swink, Mrs.. Alma McCartney, Mrs.. Theresa Morales, Sheriff Matthew Cooper. Mr. Sully, everyone was quite pleased with your work, as was I. If I were moving to the area, I would certainly want you to build my home .. and I use the word ‘home’ rather than ‘house’ deliberately. Rather than just constructing shelters, you made every effort to suit each home to the individual family. Mrs.. McCartney stated that her children were ‘pleased as punch’ at having their won rooms for the first time. I will also note, for the record, that Mr Sully replaced supplies and equipment that were lost in the fires, at what must have been considerable expense to himself."

Judge Winthrop looked up at Sully who was feeling embarrassed at the praise directed at himself. "I really can’t take all the credit" he explained. "Lotsa folks in town helped out with the buildin’ an’ they helped by donatin’ stuff both for the construction and restockin’ the homes."

The judge nodded. "Nevertheless, it speaks well of you, Mr Sully, that your friends hold you in such high esteem. I think we can state that this part of your sentence has been done and done well. As for the ..."

"Excuse me, your honor, but am I to be allowed to make a statement?"

Heaving a sigh, Winthrop replied, "Mr. Lodge, I thought I said when we began that due to circumstances, we would not allow the issue of your homestead into consideration at this time."

Smiling, Preston said, "I understand, your honor, but this has nothing to do with the fire, but with Mr. Sully’s attention to the job before that ever happened."

"Very well" Winthrop conceded. "You may make a brief statement. Brief!" he warned.

"Thank you, your honor." Preston rose and came forward, standing so he could see and be seen by both the judge and the group who had gathered to witness the proceedings. "There is no doubt that Mr. Sully is to be commended for his work on the several homesteads which he built or repaired over these past two years. It is very touching that Widow McCartney’s children now have their privacy and Mrs.. Morales has her Mexican "villa". It is gratifying to know that everyone is quite pleased. However, I am the one who has been waiting more than four years for a ‘Byron Sully’ homestead. Now my homestead may have been the least favored among his assignments, but it was already in progress." Preston’s voice became hard. "So why, I ask, was my homestead left for last? He spent so much time on all the ‘extras’ for the other people, that he had to rush to get mine finished. The result was slipshod, second-rate work that had the fire not destroyed it, would still not be completed by now, rendering the sentence incomplete. Why is none of this being taken into consideration?"

"Please be seated, Mr. Lodge" Judge Winthrop said when Preston had finished. "To address your first question, my guess is that Mr. Sully left your homestead for last for two reasons. One, the assignment to build your homestead came as a result of the original sentence. It was not part of the sentence, per se, although it was expected that it, too, would be completed in a timely manner. Secondly, I imagine Mr. Sully understood that while you were able to avail yourself of the resources of the chateau until your homestead was built, the other families had nowhere else to live."

"They could have used the Chateau, as well" Preston protested.

"For free?" Winthrop asked dryly.

"Well, no, but ..."

Judge Winthrop interrupted. "Sheriff Cooper’s reports to me show that Mr. Sully first made sure he did enough work so each family had shelter, before he completed the details on each home. Would you begrudge these people shelter, Mr. Lodge -- shelter to which you had access and they did not?"

"No" Preston replied sullenly, casting an unhappy glance at a stony-faced Tanner.

"Good. Then I will declare the homestead-building part of Mr. Sully’s sentence complete. The repairs to the jail and sheriff’s office were taken care of and I have also been informed that the required restitution was made to the families of the soldiers who fell victim to the Indian revolt. As I stated before, I received regular reports from Sheriff Cooper and I believe Mr. Sully conducted himself, for the most part, in an exemplary manner during this time. I believe we re just about ready to declare this case closed. Sgt. Tanner, it is my understanding that since you and your men were already here, you were appointed the Army’s representative in this matter."

"That is correct, sir" Tanner said striding smartly forward.

"Have you anything to add?"

"Yes, I have, sir".

"Go on, then."

"There are several issues to be dealt with , here" Tanner began. "Moments ago you spoke of restitution made by the defendant there, to the soldiers who were killed as a result of his treason. But what about the family of the man he personally murdered ..."

Peter was on his feet in an instant. "Your honor, I object to the direction this is taking . My client was never charged with murder ..."

"No, he wasn’t, but he should have been!" Tanner was getting worked up. "He always hated Sgt. O’Connor, was always having words with him, picking fights ..."

The judge was banging his gavel as the room began to dissolve into mayhem. "Silence!" he called, "There will be silence!"

"Order in the court!" Jake called out helpfully, if not audibly.

When calm had been restored, Winthrop addressed himself to Sgt. Tanner. "What is your point, here, Sergeant? Mr. Sully was not accused of murder two years ago, nor will he be, now. It is true there is no love lost between Mr. Sully and Sgt. O’Connor, but the enmity appeared to be mutual." He sifted through the papers in front of him and finding the one he wanted, he scanned it a moment before saying, "We had testimony that Sgt. O’Connor was hostile to Mr. Sully, causing bodily harm to him in the form of a broken ankle, and further exacerbating that injury by stepping on it. He was also accused of pushing Dr. Quinn while she was expecting their baby, perhaps helping to bring on a somewhat premature labor. He also," Winthrop read from the sheet, " ‘...terrorized, threatened and bullied’ Mr. Sully’s children, including a one-year-old baby, invading their home, breaking furniture and dishes. We also had testimony at the trial two years ago from a Corporal Billings who told us that Sgt. O’Connor ordered him to seek out the Indian Cloud Dancing at Palmer Creek, and to hurt him in order to -- I quote -- ‘flush Mr. Sully out, get a rise out of him and maybe make him do something stupid so we’d be rid of him once and for all.’ In light of this, do you truly believe, Sgt. Tanner, that whatever went on out on that cliff was one-sided?"

"Don’t matter what I think" Tanner spat. "Sgt. O’Connor was killed in the line of duty, trying to apprehend a fugitive. If said fugitive had surrendered to him quietly, O’Connor would still be alive today."

The judge left unsaid his doubts about Sully’s health had he chosen to surrender to O’Connor and said instead, "That is water under the bridge, Sgt. Tanner. I repeat -- charges were not brought then and will not be brought now. Have you anything else to say?"

Tanner took a deep breath, lips pressed tightly together, nostrils flaring. "Yes, I have, your honor. If Mr. Sully is to be ‘turned loose’, as it were, a free man, the Army would like some guarantee that this sort of thing will not happen again. I suppose it is futile to try to extract a promise from Mr. Sully seeing as how the one he made back in ‘71 to stay clear of Indian affairs ‘for all time’ has been broken, probably more than once. But, nevertheless, we’d like to hear from him that he’s learned his lesson, that he will stay out of affairs having to do with the taming of this land, whether it be the necessity of Indian extermination, or the development of the land for railroads, mining or whatever. Will he go home, take care of his family, and stay out of trouble, letting the Army do its job, or will we have to go through this process once more, with all its time and expense, the minute the Army takes action he doesn’t like?" By the time Tanner was finished he was practically shouting.

There was silence in the room for a moment then Judge Winthrop looked at Sully solemnly. "It is a fair question, Mr. Sully" he said quietly. "What say you?"

Part 64

As Michaela sat behind Sully, she found her thoughts straying to the previous night. They had talked about so much -- said so many things to each other. As they lay nestled together in the bed Sully had so lovingly made, she had recalled waking up on their wedding morning knowing it was the last night of sleeping alone. Now she wondered if it was their last night of sleeping together. She tried to shake that feeling -- they had been talking of how glad they were Judge Winthrop had returned and how he seemed to be fair and even sympathetic -- as far as a judge was permitted to be. But even Sully had voiced doubts bout the outcome of the trial, wondering what pressure the judge might be under from the government. "Army’s determined to clear the way for the folks who want ta settle out here. Means gettin’ ridda th’ Indians an’ anyone else who stands in th’ way." The words had chilled her even as Sully had moved closer to her saying, "Let’s not think about that now. Let’s just make tonight count ..." She had been able to put aside her fears for that brief time and it had been a very special night for both of them, but now in the crowded courtroom, she found herself waiting with a pounding heart to hear how Sully might reply to the question that had been put to him.

Sully rose to face the judge, but before speaking, he turned and looked Michaela full in the eyes. She read so much in his tender blue gaze and suddenly she knew what he was about to say. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, then opened them to find his penetrating look still upon her. The fear was clearly written on her face as she gazed back at him and she wanted to rise and shout Don’t do this, Sully! Think of your family for once, of your children! What you say won’t make any difference, anyway, it can only hurt! But she remained silent, only staring at Sully with love and trepidation as he turned back to the judge.

"Your Honor," he began, "you know, an’ so does everyone here, that my wife is th’ doctor in this town an’ has been for more ‘n six years. Last week she took sick, but it wasn’t just that she got somethin’ catchin’ -- she was sick inside herself. Th’ people of this town, her family -- me included -- were takin’ from her, takin’ everything she had to give to us -- of her time, her doctorin’, her patience, her knowledge an’ skill -- we were all usin’ all this. Problem is, none of us were puttin’ anything back. Everything she had ta give was used up, but it wasn’t replaced. An’ she got sick an’ couldn’t give any more. Things got out of balance. Way I see it, same thing is happenin’ with this land. Folks come in minin’, or farmin’, buildin’ the railroad, cuttin’ down trees for th’ mills, takin’ everything th’ land has t’ give -- but they haven’t learned how ta give back to th’ land -- how ta keep th’ balance. If that balance ain’t kept, th’ land’ll get sick just like my wife did an’ it won’t be here for our children an’ grandchildren. The land, the Indians -- they’ll all be gone all for th’ sake of greed -- money and power. I can’t, I won’t be a part o’ that -- I owe that to those folks comin’ after us.

"All my life I been losin’ folks -- my ma an’ pa, my brother, my first wife an’ baby, the Cheyenne massacred at Sand Creek an’ Washita ... an’ I was powerless t’ do anything about any of it. But I won’t stand by powerless, now. I’ll go through whatever channels I have to ta keep the injustices from happenin’. The Indians are safe now, far’s I know, were granted safe passage North. But for how long? I’ve learned th’ Army won’t never keep its promises. But I owe it t’ my wife an’ children and to those future generations to try t’ preserve this land and its people, t’ find a way so we can all live t’gether here without destroyin’ what we have.

"So, to answer your question, Judge, Sergeant, -- I will not stay uninvolved -- not while there’s breath in me. I once made such a promise in exchange for the promise of the safety of my brother Cloud Dancin’. Well, that safety was short-lived an’ I no longer feel held t’ that agreement. I lost my job as Indian agent for bein’ too involved -- ‘insubordination’ they called it. Well, I don’t got a job t’ lose, now, but I got a lot more ta lose if I don’t stand up for what I believe is right." Sully paused, glanced back at Michaela again, then turning back he said almost to himself, "A lot more."

The silence when Sully finished was palpable. Then before the judge could speak, Michaela rose, with tears in her eyes. "Your Honor" she said, "I don’t know what bearing what my husband has said will have upon the fate you decide for him, but you need to know this: He will not be the only one staying involved in these affairs and fighting for this land. In recent years, mostly because of our babies, I have been afraid to stand up for what I believe to be right, what I once fought for without question. I was afraid of harm coming to our children or of them being left fatherless or orphaned, I was afraid of losing my husband because of the stands he takes" her voice broke but she took a deep breath and went on. "What Sully said today had made me see that it is because of our children that we must stand against the devastation of this land and its people. To do anything else would be an injustice to our children and their children to come. My husband would not be the man I married, the man I love, if he had answered you any other way. And I will take this stand by his side or ..." she had to stop once more to collect herself, "...or alone if I must. But take it I will."

"And not alone" a voice rang out from in front of her, and beside her Roberta gasped. It was Peter, on his feet. "When I gave up my Philadelphia practice two year ago to move to this beautiful land, it was with the idea that I could make a difference here. Up to now I’ve been very busy setting up our homestead, providing for our growing family. But as Mr. Sully and Dr. Quinn point out, there is a time to take a stand. And I plan to take that stand and use whatever I know of the law and whatever political connections I can use to be an advocate for this land and its people!"

"Bravo, Peter. I stand with you" Roberta said quietly, rising to her feet.

"I was once afraid, and suspicious of th’ Indians" Dorothy stood, still clutching the notebook in which she’d been recording the morning’s activities. "I even thought killin’ ‘em was a good thing. Then I learned how much truth there is t’ th’ sayin’ you’re afraid of what ya don’t know. Michaela began tellin’ me of her experiences with the Cheyenne an’ about the new medicine she was learnin’ ... an’ then I got th’ opportunity t’ write a book about them. Cloud Dancin’ shared with me about their way of life and he and I became ... very good friends. I came t’ know him and about his people an’ with that knowledge came a lot more understandin’. I wrote that book but in th’ confusion of th’ uprisin’ two years ago it was ... lost. Since that time I’ve been workin’ on rewritin’ it. It’s almost done. When it is, my hope is it will be read by people all over the country so they’ll know the story of how a brave people were nearly wiped out by greed. I will also use any connections I have in th’ newspaper world to let the truth be known -- as long as these eyes can see and these fingers can write!"

Then Brian stood, with tears in his eyes. "No Harm was my friend and the soldiers killed him at Washita" he said. "He was just a kid! I’ll never forget that. I don’t ever want anything like that t’ happen again, ever! An’ I’ll do whatever I have to ta prevent it!"

Robert E stood next, with Grace at his side. "Folks fought a war t’ give us our freedom. Don’t seem right t’ just stand by an’ watch th’ Indians get killed off."

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Andrew rose. "Sit down, Andrew!" Preston hissed from behind him. "You’re making a fool of yourself!"

Ignoring him, Andrew spoke, haltingly at first and then with more confidence. "I must say ... when I first arrived in town ... I was skeptical, even shocked ... that Dr. Quinn employed Cheyenne healing techniques and availed herself of Indian herbs along with more conventional medicine. Since then, however, I have come to see that there is great merit in these remedies -- some of which have worked for me when all else failed ..."

Preston leapt to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at Andrew. "You used Indian quack medicine on my guests?"

Andrew jumped at his tone, floundered for a moment, then straightening, looked Preston in the eye. "Yes. Yes, I did. Where I felt it would work best, I did!"

"You’re fired!" Preston said in disgust.

Judge Winthrop was banging his gavel. "Gentlemen, please conduct your private affairs in a venue other than my courtroom. Dr. Cook have you anything else to say pertinent to this case?"

"Me? Uh -- no -- no -- only that I stand with my friends on this matter!" Reddening, Andrew abruptly sat down.

Swaggering a little, Sgt. Tanner approached the judge. "Your Honor, none of these other people here’s on trial today. What they do at any given time is their own folly. The Army is chiefly concerned with Mr. Sully, a proven upstart. If he is not to be put permanently out of commission, we’d at least like to see heavy sanctions laid on him to discourage further mischief!"

Judge Winthrop removed his spectacles and looked out at the assemblage. "I hope all of you who have spoken up this morning, and those who would have done so if I had allowed this to continue, have given serious thought to what it is you are saying. Going through the proper channels to change things is one matter. Civil disobedience is another, especially when it erupts into unexpected violence as happened in Mr. Sully’s case. While I admire your stand and applaud your courage, I cannot condone any behaviour that steps outside the law." Reseating his glasses, Winthrop continued, "However, neither can I jail someone for something he or she might do at some future time." Pulling a paper towards him the judge began to write. "It is the ruling of this court that Mr. Byron Sully has successfully completed the terms of his sentence. Mr. Sully, you are a free man."

As the room erupted into sounds of elation, Sgt. Tanner looked about him in anger and disbelief. Walking up to Sully, he stopped within inches of him saying, "I’ll be watching for you, Mr. Sully, and next time ..." he left the sentence unfinished and with a last menacing look, strode from the room.

Part 65
On Monday morning Sully strode through town feeling like an eagle soaring on the wind. He was free at last of the burden that had weighted him down for more than two years, ever since the Palmer Creek uprising, that had made him first a fugitive, then a prisoner and then a convict. The sky was bright with that special sparkle that comes after two days of rain, rain which he and his family had barely noticed as they spent the weekend rejoicing in being together without the shadow of Sully’s sentence hanging over them. The soldiers were gone and the greetings of the people he encountered were all friendly and congratulatory.

He hopped up to the telegraph window to check for any mail that might have come in. Michaela also had a suspicion that she’d be hearing from her mother, who would be heading back East soon, from her visit to Marjorie.

"Mornin’, Sully" Horace greeted him as he handed over a package of medicines and two telegrams. "I’m real glad the way things turned out" he said sincerely. Sully thanked him and would have engaged in further conversation, but as Horace looked over Sully’s shoulder his expression changed suddenly, becoming somewhat wary as Preston approached the window. Sully took his leave of Horace, nodding curtly to Preston who eyed him coldly. Horace watched the silent exchange as he solemnly handed Preston a handful of mail and a telegram.

Sully, meanwhile, walked over to the clinic. Michaela wasn’t coming in until later and he left the medicine on her desk where she’d see it. He then settled himself on the bench outside to read the telegrams. Michaela’s intuition had been right. The first was from Elizabeth -- she and Rebecca were heading back East and would be on tomorrow’s train. The second he read with raised eyebrows, then read again and finally pocketed with a thoughtful look. The sound of a disdainful voice broke into his reverie. He looked up to see Preston looming over him.

"More good news, Sully?" he repeated, mockingly. "You always fall on your feet, don’t you? Is that some kind of Indian trick?" There was an edge of bitterness in his voice as he seated himself beside Sully on the bench. Sully gave Preston a neutral look as he continued, "Well, it looks as if you’ve won again, Sully. What’s the score now -- Sully - 5, Preston - 0?"

"Why’s everything always gotta be a contest with you?" Sully asked mildly.

Preston ignored the question, saying instead, "Tell me something, Sully. When you were growing up, did your father expect perfection from you? Did he base how much attention he paid you on how much you achieved?"

Staring into space Sully replied, "I never knew my father."

Giving a derisive snort Preston acknowledged, "I never know my father, either." Sully turned to look at him and feeling his stare, Preston turned to face him. He had been holding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand which he now straightened, smoothing it across his knees and staring at it. "This telegram is from my father" he said conversationally. He’s on his way to San Francisco to visit one of my brothers. One of my successful brothers. He will not be stopping to see me on his way through Colorado Springs. It seems our local newspaperwoman has been very busy writing articles about me. I suppose I have only myself to blame. I was the one who complained that my achievements got no publicity." Preston turned to Sully and his mouth twisted into a sickly caricature of a smile. "I made the headlines in the Boston papers." He read from the telegram -- " ‘Colorado Banker Preston A. Lodge III Reprimanded by Circuit Judge. Nephew Responsible For Fire’. Father is sending me the entire article by mail. I got my ‘achievements’ in the paper, all right, but Father isn’t proud of me. He’s ashamed of me."

Sully looked at him curiously. "Why don’t ya stop worryin’ so much about how other folks think. Important thing is what ya think of yourself -- bein’ able ta live with yourself."

Preston laughed a mirthless laugh. "It sounds so simple. It’s just another one of those things that comes so easily for you, isn’t it, Sully? Well, I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried. When I was a boy and I didn’t measure up to Father’s expectations, I told myself it didn’t matter, that I knew I had done well. But you know what, Sully? It did matter, it does matter -- it matters more than I would ever admit to anyone. And I would do anything" his voice became fierce, "anything to make my father proud of me!"

Sully gazed on Preston, an unreadable expression in his eyes. He looked at the man who didn’t understand someone who would not fight, who didn’t ‘get it’ when one man risked his life for another when there was no profit in it for him, who could not comprehend someone whose whole life was not built around the accumulation of wealth. Preston A. Lodge III had been raised in wealth and privilege -- he’d had money, education, opportunity, but all things considered, Sully figured he, Sully, had had the better life.

Preston looked back at Sully. Taking a deep breath, he went on, "You needn’t bother about rebuilding my homestead." Sully raised his eyebrows questioningly and Preston explained, "I’m going to sell the land." His face hardened. "Father has recommended to my investors, who are friends of his, that they withdraw their support from my endeavors. They are sure to go along with his advice. The financial situation in this country does not warrant their putting their money into a possibly shaky enterprise." He lifted his chin. "But that’s all right. The sale of my land will enable me to continue the improvements at the Springs Chateau, and will also afford me the opportunity to make a successful bid for the Palmer Creek land. With a thriving lumber mill there, I will soon be back on my feet. Yes, I have big plans. I’ll show ..." Abruptly he stopped. "Money really doesn’t matter to you, does it, Sully? You never cared about getting rich."

"Just always figured there were things a lot more important" Sully said mildly. "Family, friends, honesty, fair dealin’, standin’ up for what’s right ..."

"Not one of those things will put a dime in your pocket" Preston said scornfully, adding slyly, "unless you count pretty young women from rich Boston families among your friends." Failing to get a rise out of Sully, he shrugged. "Some of those things will get you thrown in jail."

"Like I said, I gotta live with myself" Sully reasoned.

"Fine. You do that. I, meanwhile, will get back to business." He rose. "Just because we’ve talked here doesn’t change anything. We’re different people, we move in different circles. I like it that way and so do you, I imagine. I don’t understand you and frankly, I don’t want to. I don’t know what a beauty like Michaela sees in you. You should count your blessings, Sully!"

"I do. Every day" Sully said sincerely, though he wasn’t sure Preston heard him as he strode briskly away.

Part 66
Sully was thoughtful as he left the clinic porch and headed toward the mercantile, reflecting on his conversations with Preston. He had always disliked the pompous banker who never missed an opportunity to bait him and his family. He marveled at how different Preston and Michaela were, despite being raised in a similar environment. Well, Maybe not so similar. Michaela’s father had been loving and supportive, as far as he could tell and had encouraged his daughter to achieve her full potential. Preston’s father ... well ... having him might just be worse than having none at all.

Sully left the brightness outside and entered the dimness of the store. There, as in town, men tipped their hats, ladies nodded and smiled, both calling him by name. "Hey there, Sully" Loren greeted him with characteristic glumness. "Glad ever’thing turned out all right. What c’n I do fer ya t’day?"

"Hey, Loren. Dorothy around?" Loren jerked his head toward the back of the store and Sully walked over to Dorothy’s ‘office’ where she’d set up her old printing press.

Her face brightened when she saw him. "Sully! I’m glad you’re here!" She ripped a sheet off the press. "I was just finishin’ th’ special edition of th’ EAGLE, all about th’ conclusion of your trial. Everyone’s so happy ‘bout th’ way things turned out. Well, almost everyone" she amended. "Anyway, I knew you’d wanta take a copy home t’ your family." She handed the sheet to Sully who took it, but did not make any effort to read it. Instead he stood awkwardly, unsure how to proceed with what he wanted to say. Dorothy’s smile faded. "Sully? Is somethin’ botherin’ you?"

"Yeh ... yeh, I guess somethin’ is, Dorothy. I ... I was just talkin’ ta Preston ... You been doin’ a lotta writin’ these last few days ..."

Understanding dawned in Dorothy’s eyes and her tone became defensive. "Yes. Yes I have"

"Y’ sent articles t’ Boston ‘bout what happened last week -- ‘bout th’ fire an’ what th’ judge said ta Preston." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Well, yes I did!" Dorothy laughed nervously. "I mean, he is always complainin’ that the stories never reach Boston when he makes news ..."

"This wasn’t good news" Sully said quietly.

"Well ..." Dorothy was flustered. "He just mad me so mad! Scoopin’ all my news stories, getting news from all over, finally forcin’ me ta close my paper ... When we worked t’gether he was always tellin’ me what and how t’ write. Why, look at you, Sully! You of all people should understand how it feels when Preston always tries t’ get th’ best of you!"

"I think I understand a little o’ how Preston feels now that the story’s been published in a big city newspaper read by hundreds of people - people who know him an’ his family ..."

Dorothy lifted her chin. "This is just like when I wrote my book about th’ town. Folks got all upset then, but when they saw all I wrote was th’ truth, they got over it!"

Sully shook his head. "When ya wrote that book ya didn’t set out t’ deliberately hurt anyone." Dorothy was silent as Sully continued, "Y’ know how his Pa is. He’s so upset he ain’t even stoppin’ here on his way t’ San Francisco. He even recommended that somma Preston’s investors withdraw their support from him. Preston’s gotta sell his land t’ keep th’ Chateau goin’..."

"I never knew ya t’ be so supportive of Preston’s little ventures" Dorothy retorted. "Why are ya so concerned about him now?"

"It ain’t so much Preston I’m really concerned about. It’s you, Dorothy."

"Me?"

"What ya did ... it was spiteful of you. It wasn’t like you, Dorothy -- not th’ way I’ve come ta know ya." Sully looked at her, a perplexed look on his face. He put his hand on the paper she had handed him. "Words are a powerful weapon Dorothy. I just hope ya never get that mad at me." And putting the paper down, he nodded to her, then walked out of the mercantile. Dorothy stared after him, tears gathering in her eyes, wondering if she’d forever lost the respect of a man whose esteem, she now realized, mattered to her very much.

Once Sully got home and showed Elizabeth’s telegram to Michaela, the afternoon became a flurry of activity. Lists were made and people sent scurrying in various directions to prepare for the impending visit. Even Katie was given a dustcloth and set to work polishing those surfaces she could reach. Sully was amused and a little frustrated by his wife’s near panic. "They ain’t been gone long enough for th’ place t’ get dirty again!" he reasoned, causing Michaela to give him an exasperated look.

Deciding where their guests should stay also proved difficult. Brian had just moved back into the homestead and they really didn’t want to ship him off to Matthew’s again or relegate him to the parlor. The children were doing well in their own rooms and Sully and Michaela had no desire to disrupt their own privacy again. The clinic was a possibility, they had used it before, but finally, in the interest of her family’s comfort, they decided to book them at the Chateau where they could reside in at least a semblance of the style to which they were accustomed.

Finally all was ready according to Michaela’s standards and they sat down to a very late supper after which everyone was quite ready to turn in. "When’s Gramma and Aunt ‘becca gonna be here?" Katie asked when Sully and Michaela were tucking her in after prayers.

"Tomorrow on the noon train" Michaela told her, giving her a kiss.

"Think they’ll bring me somethin’?" Katie asked hopefully.

Sully met Michaela’s eyes then said quietly, "I don’t know, Kates, but you’ll just be glad to see ‘em ‘cause ya love ‘em, right?"

Katie nodded, hugging her bunny close.

"And you won’t ask them if they brought presents!" Michaela admonished, blushing at the thought.

Katie shook her head, then opened her mouth in a huge yawn. Sully blew out the lamp and he and Michaela tiptoed out of Katie’s room to check on Gordon.

The baby was sleeping peacefully, emitting a soft snore as he breathed deeply. "I hope he’s not coming down with another cold, just when Mother and Rebecca are arriving" Michaela lamented.

"He’ll be fine" Sully reassured her, pulling the covers over his baby son.

"Thank you, Dr. Sully" Michaela bantered.

Sully leaned close. "You’re welcome, ma’am" he said solemnly. "I’d be glad t’ give you and examination next -- free of charge!" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Michaela smiled and preceded him into the bedroom where she sat at the dressing table and began to brush her hair. As they prepared for bed, Sully told Michaela about his talk with Preston.

"How sad" Michaela commented when he was finished. "I was somewhat aware of the Lodge family growing up ... we didn’t move in the same circles and they employed a physician other than my father. Marshall and I were about the same age but they sent all their boys away to school when they were nine or ten. Father applied to the bank once for a loan and was turned down by Preston’s father as a ‘bad risk’. He didn’t like the number of pro bono patients my father carried. He felt that showed that he didn’t know how to manage money well." She sighed. "Father said he was a very cold man, interested only in money and achievement. It must have been difficult to grow up in that atmosphere, especially as the youngest."

"You were the youngest in your family" Sully grinned.

"True. Perhaps it is different with girls. Or perhaps it was just that I was so different from my sisters." She paused reflectively. "Mother never approved of the way Father raised me, but she would not cross him. The other girls belonged to her, but I belonged to Father. But they never set us up against one another." She shrugged. "Marjorie, Claudette and Maureen never understood me and my ambitions but Rebecca was always my staunchest supporter, next to Father."

When she and Sully were at last snuggled together in bed, she turned to him. "You know, I’m surprised that Preston talked to you at all, let alone that he opened up that way."

Sully nodded seriously. "For awhile it was like he opened up a window -- let somma th’ darkness out, let some light in -- but then it was like he couldn’t take it -- it was too much for him and he hadta slam th’ window down again."

"Forever?"

Sully shrugged. "I dunno." He turned on his side and reached for his wife who went willingly into his embrace. "You opened up some windows in my life -- let in th’ light an’ fresh air -- windows I thought were closed up forever. I didn’t want ya t’ open them, but ..." he kissed her sweetly, "once ya had ‘em open, I couldn’t bear ta close ‘em."

Michaela gazed into his eyes. "I’m glad you left them open, Sully" she said softly.

"Me too" he croaked, his kisses and touches becoming more ardent.

Remembering her rigid Boston upbringing, Michaela thought of all the doors Sully had opened to her as she once more opened herself to his gentle and passionate loving.

Part 67
Dinner the next night was festive and noisy. Elizabeth jiggled a babbling Gordon on her hip while Katie chattered a mile a minute about all the adventures that had befallen her since she’d last seen her grandmother and aunt. Michaela navigated cautiously around the blocks, a gift for the youngest children, that lay scattered about the floor between the kitchen and dining area.

In the living room, Matthew had pried the lid from a large, carefully packed, wooden crate and was examining the contents. "Oh wow!" he exclaimed. "These are great! How’d ya know we needed fireworks?"

Elizabeth smiled. "On, a little bird told me" she said mysteriously, giving Michaela a conspiratorial look.

"I’ll put ‘em outside for now an’ take ‘em inta town after supper. Jake has a safe place ta keep ‘em till Saturday." He turned to Brian. "Wanna give me a hand, little brother?"

Brian shrugged. "Not especially. I ain’t really up for fireworks this year." The memory of the ‘display’ at Preston’s homestead was still raw. The uncomfortable silence was broken when Rebecca called everyone to the table to eat.

Afterwards, Sully offered to wash up with the help of Brian and Matthew. Rebecca and Elizabeth took their coffee out to the porch where Michaela joined them after putting the children to bed. She had shared with her mother and sister the details of the fire, the resultant inquiry, and the conclusion of Sully’s trial. Now Elizabeth said, "I surmise that young Mr. Lodge does not allow circumstances to get him down for long."

Rebecca chimed in, "Mother and I heard him today when we were lunching at the Chateau, boasting about a ‘sweet deal’ he was planning, once he sold the land his homestead was on."

Michaela looked troubled. "Sully says he is planning to make a bid for the Reservation land that the government has offered up for sale." She sighed. "It may be that he will be the only bidder."

"You mean that land where the Indians used to live?" Elizabeth queried. "Why in the world would he be interested in that?"

"Sully says he wants to put a lumber mill there. There are plenty of trees and he sees it as a quick way to get rich."

Elizabeth was philosophical. "I suppose there are not very many ways land of that type could be put to good use."

Michaela sighed again. "Sully would like to see the land preserved. Even if the Indians can never come back there to live, he’d like to see it stand as a kind of memorial to the people who used to inhabit this territory -- people who are his family and our good friends. Besides, the balance will be destroyed if all those trees are cut down -- what will happen to all the animals and birds who live there now?"

Elizabeth shook her head in exasperation as she beheld the enigma who was her youngest daughter. "And you, Michaela, what would you like?" she asked at last.

As Sully washed in preparation for bed that night, he cast covert glances at his wife who was sitting up in bed, but for once not reading or saying anything, but just staring into space, lost in her own world. He removed a crumpled telegram from his shirt pocket, glancing at it then back at his wife. "Michaela ..." he said at last, then was interrupted by a scratching on the bedroom door.

"Mama? Papa?" a little voice called.

Sully glanced back at Michaela, who shrugged, then he opened to door and stooped to pick up his young daughter. "Why aren’t you asleep, Kates?" he asked reprovingly.

"Ain’t sleepy" Katie said, snuggling up to her father.

"I’m not sleepy" Michaela couldn’t help correcting.

"Me, too," Katie agreed happily, causing Sully to snort with laughter. Katie leaned back to look at him. "What funny?" she asked severely. She didn’t like being laughed at. Michaela eyed Sully narrowly, wondering how he’d get out of this one.

Sully turned serious. "Just thought it was an interestin’ coincidence that you an’ your Ma both ain’t sleepy." Michaela rolled her eyes.

Katie looked puzzled. "What’s quin... quin..." she couldn’t get her tongue around the long word.

"Co-in-ci-dence" Sully enunciated carefully. "That’s when th’ same thing happens t’ two people at th’ same time" he gave her the simplified version.

Katie looked thoughtful as she digested this. "Like when me an’ Gordon got sick before?"

Sully grinned. "Sorta. Y’know, Kates, parta growin’ up is learnin’ t’ do things that’re hard t’ do ... things ya don’t always want t’ do. Goin’ t’ sleep when y’ ain’t ..." he glanced at Michaela, "...when you’re not sleepy is one o’ those things."

"How I do it, Papa?"

"Well, there are different things you could try -- you could tell Bunny a story t’ help him get t’ sleep ... you could think about what ya wanta do t’morrow ... you could practise countin’ as high as you can go ..."

"I try, Papa" Katie agreed. " ‘night, Mama"

"Goodnight, Sweetheart" Michaela said as Sully brought her over for a kiss.

A few minutes later he was back, carrying Gordon in his arms. The baby’s cheeks were damp from tears. "I heard this one fussin’ when I put Katie t’ bed" he said. "Guess he’s hungry."

Michaela reached for him and began unbuttoning her nightshift. "He’s been so good about sleeping through the night, lately, I’ve gotten spoiled. I suppose all the excitement around here might have upset him."

Sully watched Michaela as she nursed Gordon, all her concentration on the infant and his heart swelled with love for her. When she finished he took his sleeping son from her and kissed her lightly. "Be right back" he whispered. "Don’t go away!" When he returned, however, Michaela was sound asleep. Sighing, Sully fingered the telegram again, glancing at his sleeping wife. He knew what he wanted to do, but he also didn’t want to make a decision until he had talked it over with Michaela. Climbing into bed and gathering her into his arms, he thought of a plan for getting time alone to discuss their future.

Part 68
On Wednesday morning Dorothy stood outside the bank taking deep breaths, steeling herself for what she had to do. Finally she squared her shoulders and stepped inside. Fortunately it was empty of customers at this early hour and Mrs. Owens, the latest in a string of employees who’d worked there since Myra left, was not in yet. Preston, however, was. Dorothy had made sure of that and she walked right over to his desk and stood before it.

He was working on some papers and did not look up from them as he said, "Yes?" Dorothy remained silent as he glanced up briefly, looked back down, then snapped his head up again, startled. "What do you want?" he said ungraciously.

Ignoring his tone, Dorothy said what she had come to say. "I come to apologise" she said evenly. "I am a reporter and it is my job t’ report th’ news. However, there is a right way an’ a wrong way t’ do that. I chose th’ wrong way. I was angry with you," she admitted, "but the reasons for that don’t matter right now. What matters is that I wrote what I did for spite and it was wrong of me. I’m sorry it caused a rift b’tween you an’ your father..."

Preston stiffened at the mention of his father, but then said, "I believe you are attributing to your writing a power it does not have. You did not create a ‘rift’ between my father and me. If you wrote what you believed to be the truth then you were only doing your job." He peered at her across hi desk. "Is that all you had to say? Because if so" he indicated the pile of papers on his desk, "I am quite busy." He stared at her coldly for a moment, then turned back to his work, indicating that the conversation was over.

Before she knew it, Dorothy found herself outside again. Well, what was I expecting? she sighed. ‘Bless you, my child’?, ‘Let’s be partners again’? She shook her head. Preston was Preston, after all. And lifting her head, she started down the street, eyes peeled for anything that might be newsworthy.

Rebecca and Elizabeth were strolling toward the clinic after a fine lunch at Grace’s. "What did Sully want to talk to you about?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

Rebecca smiled. "He asked if we would take the children back to the homestead and look after them this afternoon. I said we’d be glad to."

"So that’s why we’re headed for the clinic." Elizabeth surmised. "Is anything wrong, or is Michaela just going to perform one of her ‘life-saving’ operations, this afternoon?"

Ignoring her mother’s sarcastic tone, Rebecca replied, "No, I believe Sully just needed some private time with her to discuss something important."

Elizabeth snorted. "Is he planning on taking off again, now that he’s a free man?" A moment later she caught herself. "I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me. I guess I just said it out of habit."

"Sully is a good husband for Michaela and a wonderful father to all their children" Rebecca said sincerely.

"I know" Elizabeth acknowledged. "The first time I came out here, when Michaela had been so sick, and I saw them together ... Michaela would say there was nothing between them, other than friendship ... but a mother knows these things ... Rebecca, why do you keep looking over your shoulder? Are we being followed?"

Rebecca shook her head distractedly as they mounted the walk in front of the clinic. To Elizabeth’s surprise, she knocked on the door. "Michaela? It’s us .. could you step out here a moment?"

Michaela, who had been updating her patient files, hurried outside. "What is it? Is something ..."

Grinning, Rebecca stepped back as in a flurry of hoofbeats a horse bore down on them and its rider swept Michaela up into the saddle.

"What on earth ...?" Elizabeth stepped back with her hand over her heart, shock and disapproval written all over her face. As the horse disappeared over a rise she dusted herself off and muttered grimly, "Mr. Sully certainly has a flair for the dramatic."

Rebecca’s eyes were sparkling and she was grinning from ear to ear. "I think it’s wonderful!"

Elizabeth patted her hair into place and prepared to say something caustic. But instead, she stared down the road where her daughter and son-in-law had disappeared and just for a moment allowed herself the luxury of wondering what it would be like to be swept away like that, and her heart fluttered. Of course, in Boston, things like that just weren’t done ...

It was with a sense of deja vu that Sully bore his prize away. Michaela protested, for form’s sake, but this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d ‘kidnapped’ her, and he knew she really enjoyed it. Once out of town, he slowed the horse so they could converse more easily. But Michaela’d only asked, "Where are we going?" and he’d replied "Waterfall" before she’d nestled back into his arms, soothed by the rocking motion of the horse.

When they reached their destination he helped her down from the horse and they stood for a moment, just breathing in the quiet. Then she peered at him from the corners of her eyes in a way he found totally captivating, saying "I can’t imagine what Mother thought, seeing you carry me off like that! I assume she and Rebecca are looking after the children?"

"Yep" Sully was unfurling blankets and placing them on the ground. "We ain’t spendin’ th’ night here or anything." He looked back at her, standing by the horse, her mouth slightly open, curled up in that crooked grin of hers, her hair pulled back, the little tendrils that had escaped set aflame by the sunlight filtering through the trees. She was dressed for work, standing with her hands unconsciously in the pockets of the apron she always wore. He loved that apron -- it was so ... so Michaela, with its seemingly bottomless pockets that held everything from scissors and bandages to bottles of medicine to sweets for her youngest patients. As he looked at her, his breath caught and he walked toward her as though in a trance, and she watched him, that bewitching look in her eyes. He moved close and looked her up and down as if beholding her for the first time, reaching forward to finger the hair as if to be sure it was real. When he spoke, his voice was raspy. "I brought ya out here ‘cause there’s somethin’ I need t’ discuss with ya ... But I ain’t ready t’ talk just yet." His arms went around her and his lips covered hers. "Michaela ..." he breathed.

Later, they sat on one blanket, wrapped in another. Sully fumbled through the pile of their clothes until he found his shirt from which he removed a piece of paper.

"A telegram?" Michaela asked curiously.

"Yup. Came th’ other day but things bein’ so busy I ain’t had a chance t’ tell ya about it."

"It sounds serious."

"It is, kinda. It’s about a job offer."

"For you, Sully? Why, that’s wonderful!"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Sully stared at the paper. "It’s from Welland Smith."

"The man who came to talk to you about the Yellowstone?"

"Th’ same. He’s offerin’ me a job for the Department of the Interior -- doin’ survey work an’ such -- helpin’ them plan out more parks ..."

"That ... that sounds perfect for you" Michaela said, but there was doubt in her voice as she studied Sully’s troubled face. "Sully, what is it?"

"Michaela ..." Sully reached for her hand. "It does sound good. Sounds like somethin’ I’d enjoy doin’, somethin’ I’d be good at ..."

"Are you concerned it might take you away from us more than you’d like?"

Sully squeezed her fingers, then rubbed them with his thumb as he formulated his answer. "That’s part of it. But not th’ main part. I ... I just ain’t sure about takin’ another government job."

Michaela returned the pressure of Sully’s fingers, but remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"When I took th’ job as Indian Agent ... I really thought I was gonna be able t’ make a difference, thought it would give me a chance t’ help th’ Indians, t’ work from th’ inside t’ make things right." He shook his head ruefully. "Sure didn’t turn out that way -- all that paperwork, th’ double talk, th’ deception an’ interference ... government sayin’ one thing an’ doin’ another, stealin’ supplies meant for th’ Indians ... An’ then I got fired for just tryin’ t’ do my job." He turned to Michaela with haunted eyes. "What if this turns out th’ same way? What if I take th’ job thinkin’ I’m gonna help, but instead I wind up workin’ against the land? I don’t wanna be a part o’ that, Michaela!"

Michaela stared into his eyes, trying to convey to her husband all the love and trust she felt for him, yet willing herself to keep silent to allow him to work this out for himself.

Sully looked skyward, as if searching for answers there. He bit his lip, then turned back to Michaela. "On th’ other hand, I got an obligation t’ our family -- t’ you and th’ kids -- t’ provide for you. I ain’t done a very good job o’ that lately, ‘specially these last two years..."

Michaela had to speak. "Sully, you provide us with so many more important things ... with love, honor, standing up for what you believe ... you’re an example for our children ... and for me ..." She tightened her grip on Sully’s hand again.

Sully picked a blade of grass with his free hand, examining it before tossing it away. "That don’t put food on the table or a roof over our heads." Sully moved his legs into a more comfortable position. "I keep thinkin’ about the future" he mused. " ‘bout what’ll happen if we let folks like Preston an’ his lumber mill, or th’ miners, tearin’ th’ earth apart, pollutin’ th’ water, strip th’ land dry. They don’t think about th’ cost to th’ future generations, only about linin’ their own pockets." His voice grew quiet. "I keep thinkin’ th’ spirits of our great-grandchildren’ll haunt me if I don’t do somethin ..."

"It’s like what you said at your trial ..." Michaela said softly.

"What we said" Sully smiled.

Michaela returned the smile. "I’m sure that’s why Welland Smith knows you’d be the perfect man for this job."

"So ya think I oughta take it?"

Michaela sighed deeply. "I don’t know, Sully. I understand your mistrust of the government, especially after what has happened over the last few years. At the same time, I always hope things ... people ... can change, and for the better. I always believe we learn from our mistakes ..."

"I just ain’t sure the government sees the things it done to th’ Indians as mistakes" was Sully’s sardonic reply, for which Michaela had no answer. He picked up the telegram again and looked at it. "Smith wants t’ hear from me by Monday" he said. "Think I’ll see if I can arrange t’ meet with him to talk about this. Maybe there’s a way of me doin’ some work for ‘em without gettin’ all tied up in the beaurocracy of a government job." Michaela twined her fingers with Sully’s and he clung to them as to a lifeline, raising her hand to his lips and kissing each finger. "Thanks for listenin’ to me, for understandin’" he said. "I need ya so much ..."

"And I, you" she replied.

Sully moved closer to her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close and whispered in her ear, "Care for a dip b’fore we head back?" He indicated the sparkling waterfall with a lift of his chin.

Michaela’s mouth quirked up. "We don’t have any bathing things" she reasoned halfheartedly, knowing it didn’t matter.

Sully stood up, reaching down to help her rise to her feet. "Never needed ‘em before" he growled and lifting her into his arms, he carried her down to the stream.

Part 69
On Friday morning, Sully leaned against a post on the clinic porch, watching the flurry of activity as people hung flags, bunting and other decorations in preparation for the celebration the next day. Standing here always brought back memories of several years ago, standing on this porch, thinking about Dr. Mike inside and wishing he had the courage to accept and to articulate his feelings for her.

"Hey, Sully." A voice snapped him out of his reverie. Hank stood below him in the street, cigar jutting jauntily from his mouth. As he walked over, he removed the cigar, gesturing with it as he said, "How come you ain’t helpin’ set up for t’morrow? I mean, where’s your holiday spirit? Ain’t ya proud o’ what our forebears fought for?"

Sully regarded him mildly. "My ‘forebears’ were English" he replied.

Hank laughed. "Trust you t’ be on th’ wrong side of every conflict."

Sully shrugged. "Guess I just don’t always see what there is t’ celebrate. What’s freedom for some may be enslavement for others."

"You’re talkin’ ‘bout th’ Indians" Hank stated. "Y’ know," he went on, "ya don’t always got ta be so serious. Can’t ya ever just do somethin’ for th’ fun of it?"

"I have plenty o’ fun" Sully told him.

Hank leered, "I’m sure ya do but that ain’t what I was talkin’ about." He laughed at Sully’s discomfiture. " ‘nother couple o’ years, we’ll be celebratin’ th’ country’s hundredth birthday. By that time, Colorado may be a state." He tossed away his cigar stub. "We’re openin’ early t’ morrow" he said, tilting his head in the direction of the Gold Nugget. "First drink’s on th’ house." As he sauntered away, he greeted Andrew who was approaching the clinic with a purposeful stride.

"Good morning, Sully" the young doctor said as he mounted the steps to the porch. "Is everything all right?" He looked toward the clinic door with somewhat anxious eyes.

"Mornin’, Andrew" Sully extended his hand. "Everythin’s fine -- Michaela’s just in one o’ her scrubbin’ moods."

Andrew nodded understandingly. "Well, my uncle says a doctor’s workplace can never be too clean."

Sully looked at Andrew. "Michaela an’ me, we were real proud o’ th’ way you stood up t’ talk about th’ Indian medicine at th’ trial. We’re just sorry it got ya fired."

"I’m not" Andrew said frankly. "I ... I wish I’d had the courage to stand up to Preston long ago. I’ve always been taught to avoid conflict and to respect my elders, to do whatever possible to keep peace. I ... I believe at one time I was afraid of being fired so I lived with what Preston told me to do, even though it went against everything I believed both medically and morally. Funny thing is, now that the ‘worst’ has happened, I see that it was harder to live with myself under those circumstances. I feel quite free, now!" Turning to Sully, he said sincerely, "I learned a lot from you and Michaela about standing up for what is important, no matter what happens. I’ve always admired that quality, as hard as it is to emulate."

"What will you do, now?" Sully asked.

"Well, Colleen writes that she is coming home for a few days in August. I believe ... that is, I was hoping ..." Andrew blushed furiously. "With yours and Michaela’s permission, we would like to set a date for our wedding. After that, well, I would, of course, be trying to find a job or set up a practice in Philadelphia."

Sully nodded. "Sounds good, Andrew" he said slowly. "It will be good t’ have another doctor in th’ family. I’m sure Michaela feels th’ same way."

"Thank you, Sully" Andrew, looking immensely relieved, was grinning from ear to ear as Sully clapped him on the back.

At the telegraph office, a harried Horace was being kept busy fetching packages, mail and telegrams for a large group of people waiting outside his window. Jake leaned languidly on the counter, straightening when Horace handed him a handful of mail. "Thanks, Horace." Turning to leave, he saw Elizabeth standing regally behind him. Tipping his hat, he said, "G’ mornin’, Mrs. Quinn. I wanta thank you on behalf of th’ town for th’ fireworks ya brought."

"You’re welcome, Mayor Slicker" Elizabeth said graciously as she stepped up to the window.

Preston, hurrying up to the window himself, was accosted by Jake. "Um, Preston ... Mrs. Quinn was good enough to donate fireworks to th’ town for t’morrow’s celebration ... an’ well, you an’ your guests at the Chateau are certainly welcome t’ join us for th’ doin’s t’morrow evening ..."

Preston looked him up and down with a curled lip. "I don’t think so, Jake" he said curtly. "I’ve made other arrangements for entertainment. My guests prefer not to ‘mingle’."

Elizabeth, meanwhile, had accepted a telegram from Horace. "Will we be seeing you at the celebration tomorrow, Mr. Bing?"

"Oh, no ma’am. I’m headed t’ St. Louis later t’day -- gonna be with Samantha for th’ holiday!"

"Well, have a safe journey, then" Elizabeth stepped away and scanned her wire as Preston stepped up to the window. Horace, who found himself in the sometimes unenviable position of knowing all the town’s secrets while having to pretend otherwise, kept a straight face as he handed Preston a pile of mail and a telegram."

Preston pocketed the mail and hurriedly read the telegram. As he read it a second time, his eyes darkened and his brow furrowed. Stalking away, he almost bowled Elizabeth over. "Really, Mr. Lodge!" she cried. Sully arrived just in time to grasp her elbow. Giving them both a furious look, Preston strode off in the direction of the bank.

"You all right?" Sully asked solicitously.

"I’m fine, thank you, Sully" Elizabeth replied, collecting herself. "Really, that man has the most appalling manners. It seems to run in the family!"

Sully made no comment on this, but said, "If you’re sure you’re all right ..." He glanced toward Horace’s office, "...I’m expectin’ a telegram ... Do ya need a ride anywhere or anything?"

Elizabeth smiled. "No, you go on. I’m meeting Rebecca and Dorothy at Grace’s for tea."

Sully nodded. "That’s nice. I’ll see ya later, then."

"I wanted to invite your family to be my guests for dinner at the Chateau," Elizabeth told him, "I have some important issues to discuss with you. But under the circumstances ..." she glanced ruefully after the departing Preston.

Sully grinned. "I understand. I think Michaela has somethin’ special planned, anyway."

"Well, I will see you tonight, then" Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm, then lifting her parasol, headed in the direction of the cafe.

That evening Brian and Matthew worked together to get the chores done as quickly as possible. The smells coming from within the house served as enticement.

"So, how’d it go with Bonnie, today?" Matthew asked, grinning in Brian’s direction. The younger boy blushed and glanced quickly at his brother. "I saw ya headed out t’ the Taylor’s with a handful of wildflowers" he explained.

"I needed t’ apologize t’ Bonnie for somethin’" Brian said at last.

"Y’ ask her t’ th’ celebration t’morrow?"

"Sorta."

"Sorta?"

Brian sighed. "Bonnie said Miss Bobby says she’s too young t’ really go with somebody, but she said it was okay for us t’ be there t’gether as friends."

"Sounds good, Brian" Matthew said.

"Yeah. I ... I don’t wanta hurt her feelin’s again an’ I just don’t fell about her th’ way I do ‘bout Sarah."

"I know what ya mean. But you’re young yet, yourself, Bri. Ya got a lotta time t’ find th’ right girl."

Brian nodded and picked up the pail of strained milk. "Y’ comin’?"

"Right behind ya, little brother."

Michaela had outdone herself and supper exceeded all expectations. "We had a letter from Colleen, today," she remarked over coffee. "She’s been busy with her work for Dr. Miller and is enjoying it immensely. But she also has time to enjoy the sights in Philadelphia. She writes that she and some friends recently attended a special celebration of the 50th anniversary of the Franklin Institute. They waited in line at the refreshments area for a sweet cream soda -- made from cream, soda water and syrup ..."

"Sounds good, Ma!" Brian exclaimed.

"Yes, well, as luck would have it, Robert Green, who ran the concession ran out of sweet cream just as it was their turn to be served."

"Guess the girls were disappointed" Sully remarked.

"Actually, not. It appears Mr. Green is quite resourceful. He substituted ice cream for the sweet cream and created a whole new confection that turned out to be quite popular!"

"An ice cream soda" Brian remarked.

"Ice cream?" Here was something Katie understood. She had sampled the cool, sweet treat only a couple of times in her short life, but had found it a quite memorable experience.

"I still remember that confectionery in Boston" Brian sighed longingly, causing the rest of the family to chuckle. Brian’s sweet tooth was renowned.

Michaela continued with the letter. "She’s coming home for a few days in August before starting up her fall studies."

"Great!" Brian beamed.

"That’s real good" Matthew echoed his brother’s sentiments.

As everyone began to rise from the table, Elizabeth said, "I wonder if I could prevail upon you young men to clean up tonight. I have some things I need to discuss with your parents."

Brian and Matthew looked at each other and then at their Grandmother. "Sure," Matthew said.

"We’ll clean up here and then go out an’ chop some wood or somethin’" Brian said tactfully.

"I’ll put the children to bed" Rebecca offered.

"Not bed!" Katie protested. "Want ice cream!"

Elizabeth walked over and pulled her young granddaughter close. "Before I leave, I will take everyone over to the Chateau for an ice cream treat ... if it is all right with your parents, that is."

Michaela looked at Sully and raised her eyebrows and he replied, "That’d be real nice. But right now you gotta go ta bed, Kates."

"Oh, all right" Katie said in such perfect imitation of Brian that everyone had to laugh.

Gordon gave sloppy kisses all around before Rebecca bore him away to bed, followed by the reluctant Katie.

The other adults moved into the sitting room, Elizabeth and Michaela sitting in the wing-back chairs, Sully settling on the hassock at Michaela’s feet. Elizabeth folded her hands in front of her and appeared to be deep in thought. Finally she reached over to the table beside her and picked up a telegram which she scanned before looking up again. "I have lived my whole life in Boston" she began, "in a city that, to many people, is the epitome of civilization. You are well aware that I despaired of my youngest daughter coming out here to this rustic land where no vestige of civilization is to be found. However ... my visits here ... have caused me to rethink my definition of civilization." She gave a rueful laugh. "My husband was a very broad-minded individual and he instilled those sentiments in our youngest daughter. So it is no wonder to me that she was able to come out here and settle among the savages, treating them as real people." She held up a hand, "Now do not get upset with me -- I have had a lifetime of prejudices instilled in me and one does not shake those off easily. However, I have had ample opportunity to observe behaviour and when I see the actions to a man like Preston Lodge, and compare them to the actions of people such as your neighbors who are always so willing to help each other, or to you, Sully, I have to question whether civilization truly breeds civility.

"I have also come to see how truly beautiful this land is, and to understand your desire, no, your need to preserve it. It would be a shame if it were not here for my great-grandchildren to enjoy. So ... Michaela and I have talked and the result of that talk you will find in this telegram, Sully. I am turning this over to you. I trust you will know what to do with it." And so saying, she handed the telegram to Sully.

Sully had been holding Michaela’s hand and now he turned to look at her, but her face betrayed nothing. So he took the proffered paper and read with incredulity, "...successful bid ... land formerly known as Palmer Cr ..."

Elizabeth raised her eyes skyward. "Close your mouth, Sully, that posture is most unattractive!"

"But how ... what ...?"

"It was purchased with funds that might otherwise have gone to Michaela upon my death. We talked about this, and she agreed. There is, of course, money set aside for the children’s education or to assist them in whatever walk they choose in life, just as I have done with my other grandchildren. Colleen, of course, has already received hers. Matthew has said something about law school ... anyway, that is not the point."

Sully closed his mouth at last and there were tears in his eyes. "I ... Thank you .. this is most generous" The words were inadequate. Michaela rested a hand on his shoulder and he reached up to grasp it.

"You are welcome" Elizabeth told him. "As I stated before, I believe you will find a way to put it to good use" She lifted her eyes to the stairs. "Ah, here’s Rebecca ... Come and join us, dear, ... there is one more matter and wish to discuss and it involves Rebecca, as well." Sully jumped up and drew another chair into their circle for his sister-in-law. When she was settled, Elizabeth continued, "I am no longer a young woman. I shall be 77 in November. However, the doctors tell me I am in fine health and am likely to be around for a number of years." She sighed. "Of late, this has not always seemed to be good news to me. Many of my friends have passed on. The Boston grandchildren are all grown, for the most part and are in finishing school, college or the Navy, or even starting families of their own. Maureen and Claudette are busy with their own pursuits and, frankly, as companions I find them boring. Marjorie is settled in San Francisco for the time being and while I very much enjoyed visiting her there, it is not a place in which I would choose to live. Since Rebecca’s husband died, leaving her childless," she reached over to grasp her eldest daughter’s hand, "we have done some traveling and we have talked about settling down together." She paused significantly, glancing at the faces of her daughter and son-in-law. Rebecca was grinning broadly. "I’ll have you know this was mostly Rebecca’s idea, but ... we have decided that for now, anyway, we should like to settle here. We will be close to the youngest grandchildren -- have an opportunity to watch them grow -- and will be much closer to Marjorie with more opportunity to visit her. I have purchased a tract of land on which I would like you, Sully, to build us a home. I would pay you, of course ..."

Sully emerged from his shock long enough to stammer, "That ... that wouldn’t be necessary ... you’re family ..."

"Nonsense! Of course it is necessary. You will be spending your time and effort on it and deserve to be compensated. After all, this is not supposed to be a sentence. And the site we have chosen is not without problems ... A fire burned the structure that was previously there, but the foundation is intact and appears to have been built by someone who knew what he was doing ..."

"Preston’s homestead!" Michaela breathed.

"You have guessed correctly" Elizabeth stated. "When I was bidding on the Reservation land, it came to my attention that his land was up for sale so, with Rebecca’s help, I bid on it, as well."

Sully grinned wryly. "Preston know you’re th’ one bought his property an’ th’ land he was biddin’ on?"

"I have no idea whether he is aware of that fact" Elizabeth stated, "nor do I care. He put his property up for sale and I bid successfully for it and for the government land, as well. He has nothing further to say in the matter." She folded her hands in her lap and looked at them seriously. "But you do. Michaela, I know you came out here to be independent, to make you own life -- away from Boston and away from ... me. I have no wish to intrude on your life now if that is going to be a problem ..."

"Mother!" Michaela moved to give her a hug. "Of course we’ll ... we’ll be delighted to have you here ..." she looked to Sully for confirmation. "You know I always worry about you back in Boston ..."

"Not half as much as I worried about you!" Some of her old aggrieved tone came back into her voice.

Sully spoke up quickly, "I know Michaela’ll rest easy knowin’ you’re close ta good medical help."

"Sully!" Michaela blushed.

"Believe me, that was definitely one of my considerations in coming here. There was a time when I would not have said that, but after what happened with the hepatitis that time, plus dealing with all the new, young doctors coming up today -- hmph! No bedside manner at all -- your father would be appalled! And so would you!"

Sully continued. "It’ll be good for the kids t’ be close t’ their only grandma -- get t’ know her. An’ their Aunt," he added with a smile for Rebecca.

She had been silent up to now, but chimed in, "I’ve wanted to live here since the first time I came out here!"

Elizabeth went on, "We will be leaving for Boston on Monday. It will take some time for us both to settle our affairs there and we really don’t want to travel during the winter, so we will plan to return in the spring. Do you think our house might be ready by then?"

"If all goes well, it should be nearly done; at least enough so you c’n move in" Sully assured her.

"Wonderful!" Elizabeth replied. "My husband, Michaela’s father, always dreamed of having a part in settling this land. I like to think that this decision would please him."

"I’m sure it would, Mother" Michaela affirmed, tears in her eyes.

There was a sound of throat-clearing by the door and Matthew said tentatively, "Is it all right for us t’ come back in, now?"

Michaela wiped her eyes. "Certainly" she said. "Come on over here. We have some wonderful news!"

Part 70 (final)
When Sully came upstairs that night, Michaela was sitting up in bed reading. "I thought you’d gotten lost" she teased, but there was a question in her eyes.

"Your Ma wanted t’ talk to me" Sully explained. "She gave me some money t’ use to get started on th’ house." He removed his shirt, draping it over a chair, and then came to sit on the edge of the bed beside Michaela.

She reached for his hand. "I guess you’ll be wanting to get started right away."

Sully hemmed non-noncommittally, his mind somewhere else. "She talked t’ me a little bit, ‘bout these last couple years, ‘bout you an’ me. Said we prob’ly ain’t never gonna see eye to eye about a lotta things an’ I definitely ain’t th’ ‘refined Boston gentleman’ she had in mind for you ..."

Michael looked cross. "Why was she bringing all that up, again?"

Sully rubbed his thumb soothingly over Michaela’s hand. "She said somethin’ else. Said I had a lotta th’ same qualities she admired in your Pa."

"She did? Did she say what those qualities were?"

Sully reddened a bit. "Well, honesty, integrity ... loyalty ... strong sense o’ right an’ wrong..."

"And you do have those qualities" Michaela said warmly.

Sully grinned ruefully. "She also said I was like him in that I let my work get in th’ way of lookin’ after my family ... Michaela ... what happened at Palmer Creek ... these last coupla years ... it’s gonna take a lotta sortin’ out." Michaela nodded, waiting for him to go on. "I just keep wonderin’" he said at last, "how a thing can be so right an’ at the same time be so wrong ..."

Michaela pondered this, looking into the distance. "I’ve seen it in my practice" she said. "I often need to cause a patient pain -- sometimes a great deal of pain -- to effect a cure. Sometimes it doesn’t work. Sometimes things are so wrong that nothing in my power can put them right."

Sully looked at her. "But ya keep tryin’" he said.

She nodded, smiling into his eyes. "Yes, Sully. I keep trying." They were silent together for a few minutes, then Michaela said, "Will you start work on the new house on Monday? It will be hard to get the work done in less than a year -- I remember how hard you had to work to get our homestead ready in time for the wedding and you had a whole year, then. And then there’s that telegram from Welland Smith ..." she still didn’t know what Sully had decided about the job offer.

"It won’t be so bad. First of all, they don’t want a house as big as ours -- your Ma was clear about that. I was kinda surprised" he admitted, "seein’s how big that house is in Beacon Hill ... but she said they don’t need ‘that much house’ anymore. An’ besides, like your Ma said, th’ foundation survived the fire. Matthew an’ Brian’ll help out when they can ...’sides, I need time t’ draw up th’ plans. As for Smith; got a telegram from him t’day- he’s comin’ out here in August an’ he’ll talk t’ me then. I expect we can work somethin’ out."

Michaela looked at him quizzically. "So what are you saying, Sully?"

Sully squeezed her hand. Taking a deep breath and looking at her to gauge her reaction, he said carefully, "I’d kinda like t’ head up North ... see how Cloud Dancin’s doin’. I ... I don’t even know if he got away safe, or how he an’ th’ other Indians are doin’. An’ ... if he is there, I really want ta talk t’ him about the Reservation land -- get his insight inta how it can be put to th’ best use." He stopped, looking anxiously into his wife’s eyes.

She looked straight back. "I think it’s a find idea" she said firmly.

He squinted at her -- he had been prepared to argue. "Ya don’t mind?"

"On the contrary" she said. "I think we should all go."

"All of us?" Sully swung his legs up onto the bed and gathered Michaela into his arms. "Have ya given any thought ta how we’d manage such a trip? I mean, Katie’s still so young and Gordon’s just a baby ..."

"How would we have managed if we’d moved to Wyoming?" she challenged. "Katie was about Gordon’s age then!"

Sully thought for a moment, knowing he had to tread carefully here. "That’s true," he said slowly, "but movin’ and takin’ a quick trip are two different things. I had figured on takin’ Brian along .. for his vision quest an’ all ... but I wasn’t plannin’ on takin’ a wagon. I do need t’ be back in time t’ meet with Smith and t’ get a good start on th’ homestead before winter ...'

Michaela eyed him. "Are you saying I’d slow you down?" she asked dryly.

Sully smiled impishly. "I would never say that" he told her. Growing serious again, he said, "Michaela, I don’t know exactly where Cloud Dancin’ is or even if he’s there. I don’t know anything about what’s been happenin’ up there these last couple years. It could be dangerous ... I know ya don’t wanta expose the kids t’ unnecessary danger ..." Seeing Michaela’s eyes becoming moist, he drew her closer. "Hey" he said gently. "Brian an’ me’ll go scout out th’ situation an’ if everything is all right, we’ll make plans for all of us t’ go later. Right now it’ll be easier with just th’ horses -- we c’n take cover easier, if need be ... we’ll be fine ..."

Michaela drew a shuddering breath. "It’s just that I want ... no, I need to see Cloud Dancing, too. I haven’t seen him since that day by the homestead when you and he ..." she could not go on.

Sully found his own eyes filling as he recalled that horrible time and his final encounter with Cloud Dancing just after his plunge over the cliff.

Michaela found her voice again. "You’re right, Sully. It’s not safe for all of us to go. I just don’t know if I can bear to let you go off again when I finally have you safe. If something were to happen ... if you were to encounter soldiers ..." She turned slightly, cocooning her back into the comforting warmth of his chest.

Sully held her as she wept quietly, sensing not only her fear for him on this venture, but all the unspoken fears and despair of the last two years. His wife needed healing, and so did he if this chapter in their lives was ever to be put behind them and they were to be able to move forward. He stroked her hair and kissed her neck, murmuring his love until at last her breathing became even and she slept. Silently he vowed to find a way to get that healing for both of them and prayed to the spirits to show him how. "I’ll think o’ somethin’, Michaela" he whispered, his voice breaking, "I promise."

Saturday morning dawned clear and bright, warm and breezy. By midmorning, people dressed in their Sunday best thronged the street. In the center of town a small band tootled and thumped, in the meadow preparations for the games were being made. Long tables were set up to receive the best culinary treats Grace and the townsfolk had to offer.

Preston strode along the street, ignoring the activity around him and barely acknowledging those who greeted him. He hurried into the mercantile, paying no attention to Loren who warned, "I’m closin’ up soon, Preston, ‘causa th’ holiday, so if ya wanta buy somethin’ ..."

"I’m not here to buy anything" Preston said evenly and continued through the store until he found Dorothy at her desk. "I need some information" he said without preamble.

Dorothy looked up at him. "What makes you think I have th’ information you need?"

"Come now, Dorothy, don’t play coy with me. I know you’ve started publishing your pitiful little paper again, and I know your nose for news." He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk. "I want to know who outbid me for the government land at Palmer Creek."

Dorothy turned her head so Preston wouldn’t see her startled look. Turning back, she said, "I really wouldn’t know anything about that, Preston."

He stared at her a moment, assessing the truth of her statement, then deciding she had nothing to offer him, he turned abruptly and left the store.

"Got a special runnin’ on sparklers ..." Loren called to him on his way out.

Later that morning, Sully dropped Michaela and the children off at the clinic. "I got a few errands an’ then I’ll be back t’ pick ya up for th’ picnic" he told her.

She nodded briefly and turned with Gordon in her arms to shepherd Katie into the building.

"Michaela?" She turned back to face him and the sadness in her eyes haunted him. "I love you" he said simply.

She nodded again and gave a small smile. "I love you, Sully" she replied quietly, and then she and the children disappeared inside.

Sully drove the wagon over to the livery where he found Robert E pounding away at his forge and singing at the top of his lungs. "Mornin’, Robert E" he said as he hopped down from the wagon.

"Mornin’, Sully" Robert E said happily. " ‘s a beautiful day, ain’t it?"

Sully squinted at the sky. "Yeah" he acknowledged looking at his friend curiously.

"Is there somethin’ I can do for you t’day?" Robert E asked.

"Well, I was kinda hopin’ I could talk t’ you an’ Grace for a few minutes if you’re not too busy."

"You know Grace!" Robert E shook his head, glancing in the direction of the cafe, "she’s always busy. That woman’d put a whole hive o’ bees t’ shame!" Sully grinned as Robert E continued, "What’s on your mind, Sully?"

"Well, I sorta had a favor t’ ask".

Robert E glanced at him swiftly but was unable to read his face. Wiping his hands on a rag, he said, "All right. Let’s go on over an’ see Grace. Woman needs t’ sit down for a bit, anyway."

Minutes later they were seated in the cafe, being served cider by one of Grace’s employees. Grace herself came bustling over crying, "What is this all about, Robert E, I ain’t got all day! In case ya hadn’t noticed, I got a picnic t’ prepare for!"

Sully felt embarrassed. "We c’n talk about this later" he began but Robert E interrupted him.

"Just sit down for a minute, woman. It looks t’ me like everything’s under control. You fry any more chicken, there won’t be any left t’ lay eggs! Now sit down, Sully’s got somethin’ he wants t’ ask us."

Grace plopped down managing to give Robert E an offended look while throwing an apologetic one in Sully’s direction. "I’m sorry, Sully. What is it you wanted?"

Sully licked his lips. "I was wonderin’ ..." he began, "I know it’s a lot t’ ask ... but I wanted t’ ask if you an’ Robert E could take the kids for maybe a couple o’ weeks."

A look of concern crossed Robert E’s face. "Is something wrong ..."

Sully was quick to reassure him, "No, nothin’s wrong, exactly ..."

A knowing look crossed Grace’s face. "You folks plannin’ another ‘honeymoon’?" She raised her eyebrows.

Sully gave her a quick smile. "Not this time, Grace. Truth is, now that th’ trial is over, I wanta go see if Cloud Dancin’ is all right ..."

" ‘course ya do" Grace was immediately sympathetic.

" ... an’ I was gonna take Brian along ... it’s not a good time now for all of us t’ go, it would take too long ... But I think Michaela really need t’ go, too. We both could use a lotta healin’ after all that’s happened. An’ Cloud Dancin’ has helped us so much before ... He paused, assessing their reactions. "If it’s too much trouble ..."

Grace and Robert E had been exchanging invisible signals and now Grace said, "Don’t be silly. Of course we’ll be glad to. We love havin’ th’ children an’ besides," she shared a secret smile with her husband, "it’ll give us a chance t’ practice ..."

"Practice," Sully said, his eyes flicking from one to the other.

"Your wife didn’t tell you?" Grace asked innocently.

Mutely, Sully shook his head, but his eyes were alight with hope.

Grace and Robert E looked at each other, then back at Sully with huge grins on their faces. "Just found out yesterday ... I’m ... we’re expectin’!" Grace announced.

Sully left the cafe awhile later, after a congratulatory cup of cider, truly happy for his friends. They had assured him again and again that watching Katie and Gordon would be no trouble. Robert E said he’d been urging Grace for some time to hire more help at the cafe. "Maybe this’ll finally give ya the extra push ya need t’ do somethin’ about it" he stated.

"Long as they don’t run my place inta th’ ground" Grace said darkly. Sully had chuckled and promised that he and Michaela would get back to them in a day or so to settle the final details.

Now as he headed over to the clinic he spotted Dorothy standing outside the mercantile and he made a quick detour. "Hey, Dorothy," he said as he approached.

"Oh, hello, Sully" she said, dropping her eyes. Then lifting them, she said boldly, "Sully, you were right. What I did ta Preston was mean-spirited. I ... I don’t know what came over me" she admitted. "An’ I don’t know how ta make it right, either."

Sully looked away for a moment and then back at Dorothy. "Preston don’t make it easy for any of us" he said. "An’ we all got a lotta healin’ and forgivin’ and askin’ forgiveness t’ do after all that’s happened. ‘S what I wanted t’ talk t’ ya about. Me an’ Brian are gonna head North for a couple weeks, see if we can find Cloud Dancin’. Michaela don’t know it yet, but I’ve fixed it so she can go, too. Robert E an’ Grace’ll be watchin’ th’ kids. But I thought if ya had a message ya wanted us t’ give him or somethin’ ..."

Dorothy’s mouth had opened in surprise and she brought a hand to it for a moment, then holding up her other hand she cried, "Sully, you wait right there!" and she dashed inside the building. Moments later she returned, holding a brown paper parcel. She gazed at it for a moment, then began extending it toward Sully. "It’s my book," she explained. "The one I wrote about Cloud Dancin’’ an’ his people. Th’ new one" she amended, "that I wrote t’ replace th’ one I burned. I ... I changed some parts, added some new ones ... An’ I promised Cloud Dancin’ a long time ago I wouldn’t seek publication without his approval." She lifted her chin and went on, a catch in her voice. "He ... he approved th’ first one, but I don’t wanta send this to my publisher unless he sees it first. Would ... would you take it to him? Get his approval?"

Sully extended a hand to receive the book. "Sure, Dorothy, I ..."

Suddenly Dorothy drew back, clutching the parcel to her bosom. "No!" she cried with sudden resolve. "No, I’ll take it myself. I’m goin’ with you!"

"Dorothy," Sully said uncomfortably, "that ain’t such a good idea ..."

"My mind’s made up," she said staunchly. "If ya don’t want me with you, I’ll just follow you. You aren’t th’ only ones who want t’ see Cloud Dancin’!"

Sully closed his eyes and sighed. Women had to be the most stubborn creatures alive. He’d seen it with Abigail, with Michaela, even with Katie. And now Dorothy. It was useless to argue. Promising to get back to her with the details of their journey, he took his leave. As he headed back to the clinic, he recalled a trip to Boston many years ago. Maybe it wasn’t just women, he reflected. Maybe it was love.

As night descended, Preston sat in the darkened bank listening to the sounds that carried over from the meadow -- laughter, music, the sound of fireworks whistling and banging. Everyone was there, including most of his guests from the Chateau. Eschewing the entertainment he had planned -- a speaker on Colorado Statehood, which he felt to be entirely appropriate for the occasion -- they had demanded transportation into town for the picnic, dance and fireworks. Even his nephew, who had practically begged to be included in his uncle’s activities ever since his arrival in Colorado Springs, had abandoned him tonight and gone to join the town festivities. If Trevor had been just a little bit younger, he would have kept him away from the fun for all the trouble he’d caused, just as he, Preston, had been kept from the celebration by his father so many years ago. For what misdemeanor he didn’t even remember. It was one of the many times he had failed to live up to his father’s expectations and he had been consigned to home with the servants while everyone else went down to the river to enjoy the music and fireworks. Mother had wanted to stay with him but Father had told her that her place was with the family and that was that. And Preston knew he had been exiled. He had sat in the dark of his room all evening, not crying, and when his parents and brothers had returned, he had pretended to be asleep.

Now he leaned back in his chair, listening to the far off sounds of merriment, feeling exiled once again, although it was an exile of his own choosing. He reflected on his ‘accomplishments’ of the past week or so. In short order he had sold his homestead land to raise the capital to buy the government land for which he’d been outbid. He couldn’t even find out who now owned those properties. All he had left was the bank and the Chateau and without some new investors he would be in peril of losing those, as well. And through it all Sully had come out on top. Again.

He had seen them this afternoon, headed toward the meadow -- Sully and Michaela holding hands, as usual, the grandmother pushing the baby in a carriage, the little girl dancing around and prattling excitedly with no one telling her to be silent. They all looked so happy. He’d never understood that happiness, what with all they’d been through and their having so little. Sitting alone now he found himself questioning his father’s philosophy of what defined happiness and what it meant to be successful. Preston thought about what Sully had said about his making everything a contest. His father had always believed in competition, in vying for the number one spot. It was hard, however, to have a competition when no one would compete with him -- and he still felt the loser.

Every time he’d heard a train whistle he thought of his father on his way to San Francisco, bypassing the youngest son who had shamed him. In the stories his mother had told him, before Father had put a stop to it, it was always the youngest sons who succeeded, who won the princess in the end. Of course it was all, as Father had pointed out then, sheer nonsense.

In any event, it was too late to change. Preston straightened, trying to collect himself. He lit a lamp and drew forth some sheets of his special bank stationery. It was time for him to court some new investors. He dipped his pen in the inkwell. Outside a child’s clear treble called, "Papa! Papa, hurry! The fireworks have already started!"

"All right, all right," answered an indulgent baritone. "Guess I’ll just have to ... give you a ride!"

There was the sound of delighted laughter and giggling as the child was apparently lifted onto its father’s shoulders. "Papa!" As the happy squeals faded into the night, Preston laid his head down on his arms.

In the meadow the party was in full swing. Gallons of lemonade were being dispensed by Loren’s capable hand. As Jake swallowed yet another cupful of the tart beverage. Loren groused, "How much can one man drink o’ that stuff, Jake?"

"Hey!" Jake protested between gulps. "Callin’ them reels is hard work!" Fortunately for him the little orchestra had finally switched to waltzes and other slower dances and after his sixth cup of lemonade, he offered his arm to Theresa and escorted her to the dance area.

Plates of fried chicken and mounds of potato salad had been consumed and now folks were moving on to the myriad cakes, cookies and pies on display.

Horace was not on hand to reprise his role of Abraham Lincoln reading the Declaration of Independence, so to everyone’s delight, the fireworks began.

On a blanket, somewhat removed from the crowd, Brian sat with his head down on his knees. Bonnie came over and sat beside him, shoving a plate in his direction. "I brought you some cake. It’s chocolate. Your favorite."

Brian muttered his thanks but didn’t look up.

"Aren’t you even going to look at the fireworks your grandmother brought from San Francisco? They’re really fine! Better even than the ones in Philadelphia!"

Brian grunted but did not look up.

Bonnie, not insensitive to Brian’s feelings about fireworks right now, began to tell him about July fourth in Philadelphia, home of the Declaration and the Liberty Bell. Brian finally looked up, listening with some interest, but kept his back carefully turned to the display.

"I’d like ta visit Philadelphia one day," he said. "I only been ta Boston. Colleen says Philadelphia’s real nice."

"Oh, it is!" Bonnie assured him. "But I like it here too." Changing the subject, she asked, "That house you said Sully is going to build for your grandmother and your aunt -- are you going to help him?"

"Probably. Pa said he’s going to ask Trevor if he wants ta help, too."

"What does Trevor know about building?" Bonnie said scornfully.

"Not a lot, I guess, but Pa says he can always learn. He says it’s good for a man ta know how ta do things with his hands."

Bonnie looked puzzled. "He’s willing to work with Trevor and teach him after all he did?"

Brian shrugged. "He says we all got ta heal an’ forgive. That’s why we’re goin’ ta see Cloud Dancin’."

"Tell me about him" Bonnie begged.

So Brian began to tell her about his Cheyenne friend, and the other Cheyenne he had known, and about Matthew’s vision quest and his hopes for his own. And soon his aversion to fireworks was forgotten in the birth of a true friendship.

"Where are we going?" Michaela was becoming impatient as Sully tugged her away from the crowd. "Sully, the children ..."

"Matthew can watch ‘em for awhile. I need ta talk to ya." Sully pulled Michaela until he had led her behind the church. They could still see the fireworks but they were out of sight of the crowd.

"Sully ..." Michaela continued to protest when suddenly he stopped and faced her.

"Let’s dance," he said, pulling her into his arms.

"But ..." She looked askance at him. "Nobody’s dancing now. There’s not even any music!"

"There’s always music when we’re together," Sully assured her as he waltzed her around.

They danced in silence for awhile, sensing one another’s rhythm, perfectly attuned. Michaela laid her head on Sully’s shoulder, then said in a small voice, "When will you be leaving?"

They turned a few more times before Sully replied, "Depends. How soon can ya be ready t’ go?"

Michaela stopped dancing and drew back to look at him. "What do you mean, Sully?"

He took a deep breath. "I spoke t’ Robert E an’ Grace this mornin’. They’re willin’ t’ watch th’ kids for a couple weeks so you can come with me an’ Brian."

"They are? But Grace is ..." Michaela stopped herself.

"Pregnant," Sully finished her sentence. "I know she is. We talked about it." He guided her down to sit on a blanket he’d laid out there ahead of time. "Roberta an’ Peter’ll help out in an emergency an’ even Matthew can give ‘em some relief now an’ then ... They’ll be fine, Michaela."

"So it will be Brian, you and me on this trip?"

Sully slipped an arm around her. "An’ Dorothy," he told her.

"Dorothy? Oh, of course, she’d want to see Cloud Dancing."

Sully nodded. "An’ she wants t’ show him her new book. Michaela ..." She turned at the seriousness of his tone. "This ain’t gonna be easy -- it won’t be a fun time by any means. It’s a hard trip an’ a dangerous one. You an’ Brian an’ Dorothy’ll have ta listen an’ do what I say. Now I ain’t tellin’ ya this ta be bossy or ta make ya mad. It’s a big responsibility for me ta be leadin’ this expedition an’ I have t’ see to it that no one gets hurt or puts anyone else in danger. I know ya know your way around th’ woods an’ can ride a horse better ‘n anyone, but this ain’t th’ same as a trip to th’ Reservation used t’ be. There can be only one leader here, d’ ya understand that?" He made his tone light lest his words seem harsh. His eyes were pleading for understanding.

Michaela suddenly laughed. "Sully, it will be wonderful to have someone else take charge for a change. Thank you for arranging it so I can go. It means a great deal to me." She had a sudden thought. "What about the clinic?"

"Already spoke t’ Andrew," Sully replied.

"You seem to have thought of everything."

"Yep."

"So when do we leave?"

"Soon’s we can get everything t’gether. By Wednesday or Thursday, I hope."

"It’s good news about Grace and Robert E," Michaela remarked.

"It is," Sully agreed. "Said they’d enjoy ‘practicing’ with Katie and Gordon."

"I hope the experience doesn’t cause them to change their minds."

"Little late for that," Sully grinned. Michaela looked at her husband and realized he didn’t want to talk anymore. Sully pulled her down onto the blanket and she nestled into the crook of his arm as they gazed up at the blazing fireworks. "Reminds me of our wedding night," he remarked.

"The fireworks? Sully, there weren’t any ..." Michaela caught his look and when she realized what he meant, she blushed. After four years of marriage he could still do that to her. She could tell by his look what he had in mind for them when they got home and suddenly she felt very anxious to get there.

Sully saw his desire reflected in his wife’s eyes and leaned over to kiss her. "I love you, Michaela Quinn," he said.

"And I love you, Byron Sully," she replied.

"Ready to go home?" He helped her to her feet.

"Absolutely."

Suddenly a burst of fire exploded overhead and a shower of red, blue and silver sparks lit up the sky. They watched in awe until it dissipated then Sully turned to Michaela with a grin. "C’mon," he said, putting his arm around her. "We can do better than that!" And together they went to gather their family and head for home.

The End