Chapter 9

"I missed you," whispered Michaela against Sully's ear as they stood clinging to each other in the as yet light rain. He did not reply, but squeezed her reassuringly, his head resting on her shoulder. At last she pulled back a little and, scanning him from head to toe, asked, "You're alright?"

He swallowed and nodded.

"Your arm? Cloud Dancing told me ..."

"Aint nothin'," he replied dismissively, shrugging his shoulders. Deliberately changing the subject he peered up and observed, "We're gettin' wet ... Better head inside ..."

She frowned in consternation, but linked her hand with his and accompanied him into the homestead.

While he hung his water spattered buckskin jacket on the hook behind the door, Michaela went to fetch some towels with which to dry their hair. She returned to find him sitting slumped over, obviously exhausted, in one of the wingback chairs. She silently handed him the towel and he carelessly dabbed at his hair.  At last, to break the silence she attempted, "Red Fox? He's ...?"

"He's dead Michaela," he responded immediately, dully.

She strived to control her quick intake of breath. "You ... you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. Again, deliberately changing the subject, he asked, "Kids asleep?"

"Mmmm ... For a couple of hours ... even Brian ..."

He nodded, but gave no verbal response. She was at a loss. She'd seen him like this before. She was aware he had to be exhausted, along with whatever was deeply troubling him, but like all the other times, she couldn't help resenting, just a little, that he was cutting her out. She tried again, "Are you hungry ... or thirsty? Have you been riding since this morning?"

He took a deep breath. "I aint hungry ... just tired ... Left Powelltown before noon ..."

"Powelltown?"

"That's where the army's stationed right now ..."

"Oh .."

He edged forward in the chair. "Let's go on up ta bed ...," he suggested tiredly, running his fingers through his dishevelled hair.

"You go up ... I'll extinguish the lamps and lock the doors," she offered.

He shook his head. "No ... let me do it ... I'll be up in a minute ..."

"You sure? ... I don't mind ..."

"You go," he said, tiredly hauling himself to his feet. When she hesitated he strode to the lamps over the fireplace and determinedly blew them out.

She inwardly sighed and made her way up the stairs.

All the while she was washing up, changing for bed and brushing her hair, she could hear him, above the quiet thrum of the rain on the roof, moving around down below. Then at last he began to ascend the stairs, his steps heavy, dispirited. She heard his footsteps continue onto the landing and anticipated the opening of their bedroom door. Instead, the steps ceased and there was silence. Unknowingly she held her breath. After some time, as the silence continued and he did not come in, she tentatively pulled the door open and peered out. He was nowhere to be seen. Across the landing, Katie's bedroom door was ajar and so she tiptoed across.

He was standing in the centre of the room, his tiny daughter, still sound asleep, held tenderly to his chest. He was rocking her gently, occasionally placing loving kisses to her forehead.

She watched him for a moment. He seemed far away from her, his eyes masking and yet also reflecting his pain. At last she ventured in a whisper, "Sully?"

His eyes flew to hers, he took a deep breath and then entreated, "I had ta hold her Michaela ..."

She bit her lip and nodded. When he continued to rock their daughter, she said softly, "Come to bed now, you're tired ..."

He swallowed and took a step towards her, Katie still in his arms. "She's so beautiful," he whispered, almost to himself.

Again she bit her lip, and refrained from asking him to put Katie back in her own bed. There was something going on here she didn't quite understand, but she knew Sully's deep love for his family was, and always would be, undying. He seemed to need to make a connection to his daughter right now, so she wasn't going to stop him. He followed her across the landing and into their room, then passed her to peer down into William's cradle. He gently reached out and ran his free hand over the baby's forehead and gave a barely audible sigh.

"Sully?" whispered Michaela from behind him. "Time for bed ..."

He nodded resignedly and turned to hand their daughter to her. When Katie was settled into her arms he made for the wash-stand. Before she could leave the room, he suggested softly, "Maybe she could sleep in here tonight? ... With us?"

Michaela hesitated only a second before nodding and then gently placing Katie down in the middle of the bed. She shrugged off her light robe and then carefully climbed up into the bed without disturbing their daughter. She observed Sully with concern as he had a thorough wash, removing the dust of the long ride, and then in deference to their daughter, donned a light shirt to sleep in. Much to her dismay, before striding around to his side of the bed, he lifted William from his cradle and did as he had with Katie - cradled him tenderly, kissed his forehead and then brought him to the bed.

He lay down, William laying on his chest, his hand on Katie's back.

Michaela lay on her side, watching her beloved husband with concern. Gradually, his exhaustion began to overtake him, and realising this, he edged to the side of the bed and lovingly placed William down beside his sister. Within minutes he was asleep, his arm thrust protectively across his children as they too slept.

Michaela woke as the first rays of morning sun peeked over the mountains in the distance. It seemed as if she'd only been asleep for minutes. She'd lain awake for a long time after Sully finally gave way to his weariness. If only he'd talk to her. She'd known his allying himself to the army, even for one instance, would prove disturbing to him. She'd been prepared for him to be perhaps angry or indignant, but the resigned silence unnerved her, worried her.

Katie suddenly squirmed in her sleep and thrust her arm out. It really was too warm a night to have them all sleeping against each other like this. She edged back and out of the bed and then gently lifted Katie into her arms. The little girl stirred momentarily and then relaxed again in sleep. Michaela kissed her forehead and then tiptoed out of the room.

After placing Katie down and checking that she was still sleeping, Michaela returned to their room and also put William back into his own bed. She gently stroked his back for a moment, envying the innocence and unworldliness of childhood. She sighed and turned back to the bed to see Sully watching her.

As she crawled back in beside him, he drew her close and whispered against her ear, "I needed 'em close last night ..."

"I know you did," she returned, tenderly caressing his neck.

He lovingly kissed her temple. "You an' the kids ... you're what keep me goin' ...," he murmured.

She wrapped her arm around him and squeezed, incapable of replying. She felt him take a deep, deep breath.

At last she asked tentatively, "What happened to Red Fox Sully?"

Again he inhaled deeply, before saying dully, "We cornered him ... at his camp ... He turned his back on 'em ... the army I mean ... they shot him ..."

She stifled a gasp. "In the back?" she let slip in dismay.

He grasped her arm and caressed the soft skin. "He wanted it ... you could see it in his eyes before he turned away ... there weren't no way he was gonna let the army take him prisoner ..."

"So he let the army shoot him," she murmured rhetorically.

"Uh huh ... I guess I knew that's what he'd do ... I didn' want it ta happen ... but I guess I knew right from when me an' Cloud Dancin' decided the army was the only way, it'd probably turn out like that ..."

She nodded. "And the others?"

"They didn' put up much of a fight ... Army took 'em back ta Powelltown ... I spent most o' the mornin' tryin' ta persuade the authorities to let 'em head north ... to the indian territories ... but they wouldn' listen ... said the three of 'em would haveta pay for what they'd done ...," he explained, regret in his tone. "I tried ta tell 'em it was Red Fox doin' all the killin' but they wouldn' listen ... They're gonna stand trial ... I wanted ta talk to Matthew ... tell him what was happenin' ... see if he could do somethin'."

"I'm sure he'll try .."

"Army's mighty determined ..."

"Those three *were* with Red Fox when all those innocent people were murdered ..."

"Didn' know any better ... Red Fox had so much hate in him ..." He paused and then implored, "You know I gotta help 'em don't ya? ... You *do* understand ..."

"Of course I do," she assured him. "But it will be an uphill battle ..."

"I'm used ta those," he remarked wryly. "Thanks for believin' in me ..."

She tilted her head and peered up at him. "Your honour is one of the reasons I married you ... I love you for that ... I always will ..."

He gave her a wan smile. "Dunno how honourable it was ta turn the army loose on 'em ...," he commented ruefully.

"There were no other alternatives ... You couldn't let Red Fox go on with his killing of innocent people ... The O'Connells are still trying to recover from what they did ... If the truth be known ... they probably won't ever fully get over it ..."

"I know it ... but inside ... it don' help much ... I spent so long helpin' the Cheyenne against the army ..."

"This was different ..."

"Don' feel so different .."

She squeezed him again. "It was," she assured him. "Very different ..."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe if I can help the three the army's got in custody ..."

"You need some sleep before then ...," she urged. "We'll go into town first thing ... and speak to Matthew ..."

He nodded and then lovingly kissed her brow. "Like I said," he murmured. "You're what keeps me goin'."

**********************
"Ready?" asked Michaela. She was standing by the examination table on which Faith O'Connell was sitting. She was brandishing a pair of bandage scissors and a clean kidney bowl sat on the bed beside her.

Faith inhaled deeply and nervously raised her hand to the bandaging on her head which masked almost entirely one side of her face.

"I need to warn you ... the wound will probably still be very red and raised .. but hopefully the scar will settle and pale with time," advised Michaela. "It was a very deep wound ..."

"So its gonna be pretty ugly Dr Mike," rejoined Faith morosely.

"We'll have to see ... I did the best I could .."

 "I can tell that," Faith responded immediately. "But I can't help thinking those indians have a lot to answer for ..."

Michaela swallowed. After an hour this morning talking to Matthew about the situation regarding Red Fox and his followers, she had very mixed feelings about the whole affair. She couldn't help feeling that this time perhaps the army was right. Looking at this woman before her, who would be mentally and physically scarred for life, it was hard to sympathise with the indians. She knew Sully's point of view. She just wasn't sure she agreed with it. And as the discussion had continued and more details learned, she wasn't sure Matthew agreed this time either.

"Dr Mike?" queried Faith, puzzled by her physician's silence.

"Ah ... sorry ... I was thinking of something ... something I learned last night ...," Michaela explained hesitantly.  "Something you have a right to know ..."

The woman's brow furrowed. "What's that?" she asked.

Michaela took a deep breath. "Red Fox ... the indian who attacked you ... He's dead," she stated quietly.

Faith paled. "Dead?" she asked in astonishment. "He's not going to trial?! How do you know about this?" She paused and then added heatedly, "How do you know his name ... He's a friend of yours?!"

Michaela immediately shook her head. "No ... of course not ... I didn't tell you ... but we came across him on the trail ... the same day he attacked your homestead ... Sully recognised him ...," she explained evenly.

"And did nothing about him?!" she retorted indignantly, her face crumpled in anguish.

Michaela grasped her arm and said firmly, "We couldn't right then and there .... But Sully and Cloud Dancing went after him a couple of days after we brought you here ..."

"And they killed him ..."

"No ... the army did ... Sully led them to him ..."

Faith's startled eyes met Michaela's. "He did!" she exclaimed in a strangled whisper.

"Yes ... It was the only thing he could do ... He and Cloud Dancing didn't want to see Red Fox doing to others what he'd done to you ..."

Faith's body slumped as if exhausted. "So he's really dead?" she murmured disbelievingly.

Michaela nodded.

Faith swallowed. "I ... I ... can't believe it ..."

"Its true ... Sully told me when he arrived home late last night ... He'd been riding all day ..."

Faith slowly raised her head. "There were others ... he wasn't the only one ...," she stated dully.

"The army has them ...," explained Michaela succinctly. Reluctant to go any further, she raised her scissors and began to cut at the bandage on Faith's face. "Let's have a look at this now shall we," she said calmly. "We'll see if those stitches are ready to come out."

********************
After a late night and an emotionally charged day, Michaela pulled the wagon to a halt in the homestead yard with relief. The storm of last night had done little to dissipate the summer heat, though at least this afternoon there was a slight breeze. Matthew and Kathleen's wagon was in the yard too which meant that they'd brought the younger children home. She stepped down from the wagon and peered across at Sully who was chopping wood beside the corral. She smiled a little. It was the middle of summer and the only wood they were using at the moment was for the stove, but he'd often take to this very physical activity when he needed to think something through. And she could guess what the current something was. She waved, but he didn't appear to notice her.

She entered the house, placed her medical bag down on the dining table and opened her arms to little Katie who was tearing across the room towards her. She swept her up into her arms and returned the enthusiastic hug. "Have you been a good girl for Kathleen hmmm?" she murmured against her daughter's ear. Her question was answered by an exaggerated nod.

Katie leant back a little so she could look into her ma's face and announced proudly, "Me an' Kafeen ... made cookies ..."

"You did?!" exclaimed Michaela with a surprised smile. "Did you bring me one?"

Again an exaggerated nod. "Lots," she announced. "For you, papa, Brine ... Weeyum ..."

Michaela chuckled. "Did you say thank-you to Kathleen?"

The little girl immediately wiggled in her ma's arms indicating she wanted to be put down. Once on the floor she rushed into the arms of Kathleen as she emerged from the kitchen. "Tank-you," she exclaimed excitedly. "For de cookies ..."

"You're welcome sweetheart," returned Kathleen affectionately.

"Ah ... Dr Mike ... can we talk a minute," asked Matthew when he saw Katie was now being distracted by Kathleen.

"Yes ... of course," rejoined Michaela, noting the worried look on her eldest son's face.

"Maybe ya better take a look at this," he suggested, indicating the open newspaper on the dining room table. "Its this mornin's Denver Post ... It was spread out like this when we got here ..."

Filled with foreboding, Michaela immediately bent over the paper. She read the lead article and then her eyes instantly darted worriedly in the direction of her husband still furiously chopping wood in the yard. Her heart pounded.  She turned anxious eyes on her son. "Do you mind ... I mean ... please ..."

"We'll look after the kids ... you go talk to him," he offered quietly.

She nodded and without delay exited the house, making for the woodpile and her tormented husband.

His shirt had been discarded long ago, his face was livid from the hot sun and exertion, and beads of perspiration created a sheen on his skin and ran in rivulets down his torso to dampen the loosened waistband of his buckskin pants. He continued the relentless, heavy smack of axe on timber, only occasionally stopping to roughly stack the ever-increasing pile.

She watched for a while, hoping he would take notice of her and stop, but he didn't. He knew she was there, she was sure of it, but he continued on. At last, when he finally had to stop again to clear enough room for more wood, she said quietly, "Sully?"

He paused, bent over the haphazard pile. "I don' wanna talk about it Michaela," he replied, not looking at her.

"I think we should," she rejoined.

"Why?" he demanded churlishly, once again picking up the axe.

"Because its obviously upset you," she replied, striving to keep her voice even.

"Talkin' aint gonna fix anythin'," he retorted, swinging the axe down hard on the defenceless log, splitting it neatly in two with the one action.

"It might help?" she suggested plaintively.

He shrugged and again brought the axe down, hard. 

She sighed in frustration. Finally, when he again had to pause and clear away the cut wood, she stepped in. Grasping his arm, she attempted to draw him down into the shade cast by the barn. He resisted at first, then reluctantly accompanied her. When they were up against the barn wall, she turned to face him. "Talk to me Sully," she implored softly. "Don't cut me out ... please."

His eyes flew to hers. He'd done that before, and vowed he'd try not to do it again. He took a deep breath. "Aint a lot ta say," he said sullenly. He mopped at his brow as a drop of perspiration ran into his eye making it sting.

"You could start by telling me what's got you so upset ..."

He frowned and protested indignantly, "You have ta ask?!"

"I have a fair idea ... but I want you to tell me ..."

"They're dead Michaela ... Is that what ya wanted ta hear? ... They're dead ... not more 'an three hours after I left Powelltown ... an' its my fault," he lashed out.

She was startled. "Your fault?" she queried weakly.

"I was the reason they were there ... I turned 'em in ... Now they're dead ... an' I did it to 'em ... I might as well've pulled the hangman's lever ..."

She grasped his face in her hands and forced him to look into her eyes. "It is *not* your fault Sully," she stated determinedly. "They brought it upon themselves ... they didn't have to stay with Red Fox ... they didn't have to participate in his killing spree ... but they did ..."

"You sayin' you go along with the army stringin' 'em up ... without a proper trial ... without defence?"

"Of course I'm not ... but we both know that's how the army works at times .. especially when it comes to indians ..." She paused and swallowed, hoping he wouldn't think she condoned what had been done. "What I'm trying to say is ... its not *your* fault ...  They were guilty of unspeakable crimes ..."

"But they didn' do 'em ..."

"You don't know that for sure ... Think about it ... Is the bank robber who comes in waving a gun at terrified customers ... then lets his partner pull the trigger while he stands by and watches, any less guilty that the one who actually pulled the trigger? Who's to say that they didn't get carried away and actually participate in the killing at times ... There are no viable witnesses ... just the evidence ... and the evidence is damning ..."

He shook his head. "I can't go along with it Michaela ... They deserved a trial ... with someone standin' up for 'em ..."

"I agree wholeheartedly ... but you can't hold yourself responsible because someone else took that right out of your hands, their hands ..."

He distractedly ran his fingers through his damp, dishevelled hair. "How can I face 'em Michaela?" he muttered. "We went up north to Flyin' Hawk an' the Cheyenne ... We lived among 'em ... They trusted us ... How can I look 'em in the eye? How can I look Cloud Dancin' in the eye?"

"He'll understand," she replied immediately.  "He trusts you ..."

"Maybe he shouldn't."

"He does ... and he always will ..."

"But they were Cheyenne ..."

"And it was Cloud Dancing who pointed out me that there are good and bad in every race ... What about McBride, O'Connor, that man Currier? They were all our race ... Should we both feel inordinate guilt because they ended up paying for their crimes with their lives?"

"They didn' have ta put up with what the Cheyenne've put up with ..."

"You don't know that either ... Please Sully ... recognise that Red Fox and his men were guilty of their crimes and they've paid for them ... No-one else will be slaughtered because of their anger ... No-one else will go through what the O'Connells are going through because of them ..."

He slumped back against the barn wall. "I can't help feelin' I coulda done more ..."

"Think what you did for the O'Connells ... and all those homesteaders who were terrified they'd be next ..."

"Yeah ... an' in the meantime I didn' do much for the Cheyenne ..."

"Cloud Dancing and the Cheyenne who know you ... they're the important ones ... and they'll understand ... They know your devotion to the Cheyenne cause ... This case was entirely different ..." She moved in to stand up against him, then wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his damp chest. "Believe me Sully," she murmured imploringly.

"It aint easy," he returned quietly, kissing the top of her head. He grasped her shoulders and gently pushed her back a little. "Maybe you oughta not do that ... I'm kinda wet ... an' probably ... ah ... don' smell so good ..."

She returned to her original position. "I don't mind ... really I don't ... as long as you tell me you believe me ...," she declared lovingly.

He wrapped his arms around her gratefully and avowed, "I can only say I'll try. I feel like I betrayed 'em ..."

She shook her head and lightly kissed his chest. "You're wrong ... They betrayed themselves ... and their fellow Cheyenne ... You had nothing to do with it ... You did your best for them ... as you always do." She felt him silently sigh.

They stood together like that for several minutes, then Michaela peered up at him. "Will you come inside now? We have enough wood to last for months ..."

He gave her a wan smile. "Kinda need a bath," he muttered. "Dunno how you can stand bein' this close ..."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lovingly. "Its no hardship ... never is," she averred. "But how about you wash up a little ... Brian's staying in town with Colleen and Andrew tonight so perhaps we could have an early supper ... ... Then after ... we could take the children for a ride out to Midnight Lake ... and we could all cool off ... What do you think?"

"Sounds good," he agreed. "But just us huh? ... I aint up ta company ..."

"Matthew and Kathleen are family ... not company ..."

"You know what I mean ..."

She nodded. "Yes ... I know what you mean," she replied with a enigmatic smile. She stepped back a little from him and they began to walk slowly arm in arm towards the house.

Chapter 10

"I remember you doing that with Katie only a couple of months back ... in San Francisco," remarked Michaela, as Sully brought a dripping wet daughter back to her from the water's edge. She'd been watching him swing Katie back and forth over the water and then suddenly dip her in to the waist, much to the little girl's delight. She picked up a towel and reached out for Katie so she could dry her.

"Think she remembers," he agreed, handing the toddler over and then standing to peer pensively out over Midnight Lake. There was only a whisper of a breeze and the clouds above were just beginning to tinge with pink.

Despite her shivering, Katie turned to her father. "Agin papa?" she implored.

Disturbed from his reverie, he raised his eyebrows. "Nah Kates ... that's all ... Its late ... an' I'm gettin' tired ... aint you?" he rejoined.

She shook her head and determinedly pulled away from her mother's hold. "Agin!" she insisted, beginning to toddle towards the lake's edge.

"Kates," her father warned sternly.

She paused and peeked back over her shoulder, her eyes glinting stubbornly.

"I said that's all for today," he repeated. "You wanna come out here another day ... don' ya?"

She nodded, but remained where she was.

"Then ya gotta do what we say ... We'll be headin' home soon ...."

She hesitated, then took one more step forward, before again peeking back. Sully sat down, then picked up a towel and began to deliberately fold it, while Michaela occupied herself with dressing William.

Again she took a step towards the water, testing her parents' resolve, but they apparently paid her no mind. She stopped and, delaying the inevitable, obstinately traced with her toe a circular pattern in the sandy soil, her eye always on her ma and pa.

Finally, Michaela stopped what she was doing, looked directly at her daughter and opened her arms.

The little girl hesitated for only a second before running away from the water and into her mother's embrace. Michaela whispered lovingly against her ear, "We'll come back here again soon sweetheart and papa will take you into the water ... alright?" Katie nodded and then snuggled in against her mother's breast. Michaela chuckled. "Its past your bedtime isn't it little one?" she murmured, holding her close and rocking her gently.

She glanced across at Sully who was now cradling William as he too drifted off to sleep. "These summer evenings are misleading aren't they? I suppose it is getting late ...," she said softly.

"Aint no hurry ... the kids'll sleep anywhere ... I'll get the lamps from the wagon in a minute ..." He gazed out over the lake. "I like it out here ... The peace helps ya forget ... at least for a while ..."

"Is that how it was ... after ..."

"After?"

She swallowed. "When you came back ... after the army ... after Abigail and Hanna?"

He immediately shook his head. "Weren't any peace then ... That's what I meant last night ... 'bout you an' the kids keepin' me goin' ... I didn' have anyone back then ..."

"Until Cloud Dancing found you ..."

"Uh huh ...  That's why I owe him an' the Cheyenne so much ..."

"But you don't owe murderers anything ..."

"We don' know they were murderers ..."

"We don't know they weren't ... we never will ... but they were there ... they participated ..."

He sighed. "Everyone deserves a fair trial Michaela ... Just cos those three were Cheyenne don' change that ...," he stated resolutely.

"And with that I agree ... wholeheartedly," she avowed. "But it wasn't you who was responsible for what happened ... It was the army ..."

He sighed again. "I let 'em down Michaela ... No matter what I try ta do, somethin' always goes wrong ... You think if Flyin' Hawk heard I'd led the army to Red Fox an' his men he'd understand?"

"When he knew of all the facts ..."

He shook his head. "Don' reckon he'd understand even then ...."

"You give him little credit ..."

His eyes darted to hers. "Whatdya mean?"

"He's very like Cloud Dancing ....He's a reasonable man Sully ... He doesn't see the world as Cheyenne against white ... If that were the case we would not have been made welcome in the indian territory ... Both men are aware that there are good and bad amongst the Cheyenne ... just as there are good and bad amongst the white population ... Was Cloud Dancing ever angry with you for bringing about the death of One Eye years ago? Of course he wasn't ... the man had killed his son ... and ... well ..." She paused and took a deep breath before continuing, the memory still unsettling, "And subjected me to ... to .." She stopped and shook her head. "It doesn't matter ... The truth is ... They see the man ... not the colour of his skin ..."

"An' I don't?"

"I didn't say that ... But if it had been me, Katie, Brian, William who had been living in that homestead ... instead of the O'Connells? What then?" He swallowed and his face creased in pain. She reached across and grasped his hand. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I truly *do* understand how you feel ... Its just that .."

"Maybe we got different perspectives on things huh? .. Gotta look at both sides ..." he finished. He turned his hand so he could cling to hers. "That aint easy ... not when I owe the Cheyenne so much ..." He paused and swallowed. "I ... I didn' tell ya ... but one o' the reasons why I needed the kids close last night ... was cos we saw what he'd done to another family ... I couldn' get it out o' my mind ..."

She gently placed Katie down on the blanket beside her, folding it up to cover the little girl's bare skin, then edged closer to Sully. "I couldn't stand it if something happened to our family either Sully," she said sincerely. "That's why what you did is so important ... so right ..."

"That don' make it any easier ta take ... I gotta talk ta Cloud Dancin' in the mornin'."

"You have no reason to fear that ..."

"I aint afraid ... just ashamed ..."

She shook her head. "Like you, Cloud Dancing will have anticipated what would happen when the army came into it ... But he told me it was the only way ... and it was ...."

There was a long, thoughtful silence, both seemingly unaware of the twilight gradually closing in around them.

Then much to Michaela's surprise, Sully abruptly put William down beside his sister, stood and started to divest himself of his clothing. She watched, bemused, as he shucked off his buckskin trousers and then sped towards the water into which he plunged headlong. He came to the surface only seconds later, his long hair plastered to his head, his skin shining with droplets. Then, with long, even strokes, he began to swim parallel with the water's edge, perhaps a hundred yards or so, before turning back and covering the same distance again. At last, when his nervous energy had dissipated, he stopped, peered through the gloom at her and then emerged from the water to walk slowly up the slight slope towards her.

"Feel better?" she asked with a smile.

"Uh huh ... you oughta try it," he recommended, shaking his head and sending a shower of droplets to the ground and over her.

She glanced across at the two sleeping children and then replied, "Ah ... I think not ..."

He grinned. "Why's that?"

"Can you imagine what stories Katie could tell if she woke and saw her mother swimming naked in the lake?"

"Pity she ever leant ta talk huh?"

"Sully!"

He grinned again. "You know what I mean ... Besides ... you've got your swimmin' costume on ... an' ya didn' have a chance to use it with lookin' after William ..."

"Its getting a little dark ..."

"Go on ... I'll enjoy dryin' ya off when ya get out ..."

She eyed the water enviously, then nodded and stood. "Alright," she said decisively. "Just for a minute." 

Entering the water a little more sedately that Sully, Michaela waded in until she was waist deep and then slowly sank into the cooling depths. She surfaced seconds later, her long hair trailing down her back. "Ooh ... that's so good," she called, again slowly sinking down.

"Sure is," murmured Sully under his breath, his eyes fixed on her. She reminded him of a story he'd read years ago, about a beautiful nymph who emerged from the ocean. His heart began to pound. His eyes still on her, he pulled on his buckskins, leaving the buttons undone, backed away to the wagon and fetched the lamps, a couple of blankets and another towel, then returned to the children.

She waded from the lake only a few minutes later, wringing the excess water from her hair and then flipping it back behind her shoulders. Her cotton swimming costume clung to her form and she was taking deep breaths as the breeze cooled her wet skin. As she neared him she slowed. "What are you smiling about?" she asked, puzzled. She looked down at her wet costume. "I know its old ..."

"You really got no idea have ya?" he returned, his voice husky.

Her brow furrowed even further and she reached for the towel from his hands.

He retained his hold on it. "Let me," he entreated, taking a step towards her.

A flash of realisation crossed her face and she gave a barely perceptible nod.

In silence Sully began to tenderly, sensuously, wipe the water from Michaela's face, arms and legs, then slowly, seductively, unbutton the front of her costume. By the time he at last dipped his head to hers, she was more than ready for his fervent kiss.  It exploded with an urgency and energy that left both of them breathless. At last he pulled back and swallowed. "You have no idea what ya do to me," he breathed.

"Yes I do," she returned at once, her tongue snaking out to wet her swollen lips. "You do the same to me ... you always have ..."

He smiled at her candid admission, but the smile soon disappeared in answer to her breathless, "Please ..."

The kiss resumed with a passion that seemed to intensify to heights thought unattainable. Both clung to each other, their bodies damp but no longer cool, their pulses racing, their desire apparent and exciting. They separated only long enough to spread one of the blankets on the ground a few yards from the children who still slept soundly, oblivious to their parents' ardour. After quickly disrobing, they slowly sank down onto it, wrapped in each other's embrace.

The emotion of the day seemed to spill over into this affirmation of their love. There, in their peaceful, yet wild, surroundings, they gave themselves to each other, enthusiastically, unconditionally. At last, sated, they succumbed to their exhaustion, to sleep until dawn once again cast shadows over them, and they woke to return home.

********************
"So that's what happened .. I wish it didn' turn out like that ... but it did," admitted Sully, shamefaced. He was sitting beside Cloud Dancing under the shade of an ancient spruce at Palmer Creek.

When his brother remained silent, he added, "I tried ta persuade the army ta let me take 'em up north ... to the indian territory ... but they wouldn' have it ... Said they'd broken the law an' would get a proper trial ... only that aint what happened .. I was on my way back here ta talk to Matthew about it ... didn' know the army'd string 'em up ..."

Cloud Dancing nodded morosely. "Dorothy told me of this yesterday ..."

"She did?" remarked Sully, suddenly realising it would be the case.

"I came to the homestead last evening to speak with you about it ... you were not there ..."

Sully swallowed. "Me an' Michaela took the kids to the lake after supper," he rejoined guiltily.

The medicine man's eyes flicked to his brother with surprise, then his face became impassive once more.  "It does not matter ... there is nothing we could have done ..."

Sully shook his head ruefully. "I keep wonderin' about that ... I feel like I let 'em down ... like I let all the Cheyenne down ..."

"We have known the army's treachery before ..."

"So I shouldn' have believed 'em? When they said Red Fox's men'd get a trial?"

Cloud Dancing shrugged his shoulders. "When have we known them to speak the truth?"

Sully frowned. "Some of 'em are honourable I guess ... Mackay ... Ely Parker in Washington ..."

"And what of O'Connor? Morrison?"

Sully nodded and dropped his head into his hands. "I shouldn'a believed 'em ... but I didn' know what else ta do ... We both knew Red Fox had ta be stopped ..."

"Yes ... we both knew that ..."

"An' he weren't gonna listen to us ..."

"No ... He was too angry ..."

"So there wasn't anythin' else we could do ... but bring the army into it ..."

Cloud Dancing nodded, then abruptly stood.  "I told Dorothy I would have lunch with her ... I must be going ...," he announced.

Sully peered up at him. "I couldn' do anythin' more than I did," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for how it turned out ..."

Cloud Dancing nodded again. "We should not be surprised Sully ... The army has betrayed us many times before ...," he remarked dispassionately, heading towards his horse. "I will see you soon ..." He mounted, nodded to his brother and rode off.

Sully sat for some time in the stillness of the woods, gazing in the direction taken by Cloud Dancing. Disquieted by the man's uncharacteristic mood, he wondered what was going through his mind. Rather than allaying his feelings of guilt as Michaela had predicted, Cloud Dancing had left him feeling both responsible and not a little dispirited.

***********************
The knock on the recovery room door was closely followed by it opening and the Reverend asking quietly, "Mrs O'Connell ... you there?"

Although she knew he couldn't see her, Faith instinctively raised her hand to the ugly, yet healing, wound on her cheek and replied, "Yes ... We're here Reverend ... The children were just going over to play near the schoolhouse."

He entered and little May immediately ran across and took his hand. Although he had still never heard her speak, he had become accustomed to her tiny hand being placed trustingly in his. He entered the room a little further, then stepped back to reveal another visitor. "This is Loren Bray, Mrs O'Connell ... from the mercantile ... he's going to escort us across to the church so you take a look at the room I suggested you could use ..."

Loren doffed his hat. "Mrs O'Connell," he said with a smile, striving to ignore the obvious and unsightly scarring on her cheek. "Glad ta hear you're feelin' better ..."

Faith nodded. "Thank-you," she replied quietly, averting her face a little so the scar was hidden. "I ... I'm not sure we'll be needing the room at the church ... I haven't made any decisions yet."

Loren casually shrugged. "The Reverend told me as much ... but there aint any harm in lookin' is there? Besides ... it aint much ... once ya see it, ya mightn't want it anyways ..."

"Loren!" exclaimed the Reverend. "Its not that bad."

"Just tellin' it like it is Reverend ... Its small ... an' suitable for a bachelor ... but I aint sure about a lady an' a couple o' kids ..."

The Reverend shook his head ruefully while Faith rejoined, "I'm sure the children and I could make do Mr Bray ..." She stood. "Perhaps we will take a look."

Loren immediately offered her his arm. "Alright then ... We'll go over there ...," he rejoined smugly.  "An' you'll see what I mean ..."

*******************
Douglas and May jumped exuberantly down the few steps to the ground and then turned to observe the three adults emerge from the room at back of the church.

"Like I said Mrs O'Connell ... me an' some o' the other fellas in town could fix it up a little ... it needs a coat o' paint ... an' some furniture ...," Loren offered as he followed Faith down the steps.

They began to walk in the direction of the clinic, the children skipping ahead. "We can make do Mr Bray ... we don't need much ... and I won't have people doing things for me I can't pay for," she insisted yet again.

He shrugged dismissively, "This town's got a history o' helpin' out people who need it," he asserted, walking alongside her. "Aint that right Reverend? A couple o' days an' it'll be ready for ya to move into ..."

Faith opened her mouth to object again and then thought better of it. Who was she to argue? She and the children were destitute and until she could work out a way to earn some money, she would have to accept, no matter how much it wounded her pride. "Thank-you," she said with unaccustomed humility. "I'll do all I can to help."

"Good," rejoined Loren and the Reverend simultaneously.

"I'll speak ta Sully first thing," added Loren.

"Sully?" queried Faith, unnerved.

"Uh huh ... makes the best furniture around here ...," answered Loren.

She swallowed. She still could not overcome her aversion to the man after discovering one of his closest friends was an indian. "You ... you don't need to bother him," she attempted. "We'll make do ..."

"And what are the children going to sleep on?" asked the Reverend quietly, well aware of her unfounded reservations about Michaela and Sully.

"We slept rough on the way out west," she returned. "The children are used to it ..."

"But they don't have to be," argued the Reverend.

She took a deep breath. "I suppose not," she mumbled, once again forced to swallow her pride. They walked through the gate from the meadow and approached the street, the two men nodding in satisfaction.

It happened in a split second.  

Dodging a fast moving wagon, Douglas took off across the street, heading for the clinic porch, unaware that May was following close behind. Younger, smaller and not as aware, she misjudged the time and distance she had.

The driver noticing the tiny child too late and unable to halt the wagon in time, held his breath. He heard a woman scream and then felt a dull thud. His heart jumped into his mouth. He hauled on the reins and bounded from the seat as the wagon stopped. Some ten yards or so back a crowd was already gathering. He ran the few steps and urgently pushed through them, fearful of what he might see. What he did finally see stunned him. Instead of a tiny child laying dead on the road, there was a man clutching at his leg, probably the last man he'd have expected to see, especially here in town.

Continued .....

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