Up A Forever Love A Light In the Darkness Circle Of Life From Books to Promises Heroes and Fools Home and Away Home for Christmas Honeymoon Reflections Honeymoon Reflections Too In a Heartbeat In a Perfect World It Just Gets Better Keeping the Song Alive Longings Of Husbands and Fathers Safety Measures Seeing Red Tailor Made The Desk The Storm Before the Calm The Ties That Bind Wedding Trilogy: 1 What If ... When Paths Cross

In a Perfect World

 

 

For personal and select distribution only (c) by Pam Hunter, March 2001

Like "In a Heartbeat" this story was written as an episode of the virtual seventh season which can be seen at: http://www.geocities.com/dq7thseason/ . In writing such a piece I am bound by various story arcs, so ... to eliminate any confusion ... Grace's Cafe has been built in, Dr John Fulton was selected by Michaela to run the medical clinic at the Chateau and Preston returned after the Panic to run the Chateau in the hope of one day buying it back from Senator Dinston. I hope you enjoy ..

By Pam Hunter

TEASER

Spring sunshine streamed through the budding branches of the tall oaks by the livery and caf� and dappled the lunchtime diners with light and warmth. A hint of warmer weather had prompted Grace to put some tables and chairs out in the fresh air as she'd always done in the past. Michaela sat at one of these, absorbed in a recently arrived letter, oblivious to the other townspeople seated around her. She'd been going to wait for Sully before opening the much anticipated correspondence, but in the end just hadn't been able to resist the temptation. Occasionally her mouth curved upward in a proud smile or she sighed contentedly, while all around her the hustle and bustle of Colorado Springs went on regardless. She reached the end of the long letter and immediately flipped the first page over to begin again, this time determined to peruse it a little more slowly.

Preston A Lodge III also sat alone at a table at Grace's caf�. He too was absorbed in a letter that had arrived on the morning train. However, his demeanour was a distinct contrast to that of Michaela's. His grip on the flimsy pages was tense, his brow was deeply creased in a frown, his teeth were clenched grimly and he snorted with disgust as he read the unexpected, negative reply to his suggestion of some weeks back. He'd been certain his approaches would be met with approval, possibly even relief! He too flipped the pages over and began again.

"You really think it's a good idea ta be expandin' your business at your age?" demanded Jake derisively of Loren. The pair, along with Hank, were seated at a table adjacent to Michaela.

Loren regarded him indignantly. "What do you mean 'at my age'!" he exclaimed. "The mercantile's goin' from strength ta strength aint it?! I got more goods an' customers than I got room for ... an' now Jared's workin' for me ...."

Jake held up his hand in surrender. "Alright ... alright ... I just thought ..."

"Just thought what!?"

The barber grimaced. "I just thought ... well ... a lot o' fellas start thinkin' 'bout slowin' down when they git ta be ..." He was silenced by the angry glint in Loren's eye. At last, he inquired benignly, "When's this expandin' supposed ta happen anyways?"

Loren shrugged. "I'm just in the plannin' stages right now ... Turns out Jared's pretty good at drawin' ... so we're trying ta work out the best way ta go about it ..."

"Sounds expensive," offered Hank sardonically, sending a perfect smoke ring from his cigar wafting upwards on the spring breeze.

Again Loren shrugged. "Like I said ... business is pretty good right now ..."

At the next table the banker's ears pricked up. He swivelled in his chair and remarked condescendingly, "I would be happy to assist with any investment or financial advice you might need Loren ... expanding a business haphazardly is often an investor's downfall."

Loren's eyebrows rose and he smirked. "I got a fella in Denver givin' me all the advice I need Preston ... Harold's always done good by me ..." he rejoined determinedly.

"Harold? You don't mean Harold Plimpton?" rejoined Preston with disdain. "He's a small time operator ... and that's how he thinks - small. Surely it would be wise to consult someone closer to home ... someone more imaginative. Perhaps *I* could manage your financial arrangements?" the banker offered hopefully.

"Like you managed the financial arrangements for all them folk who lost their life savin's in the Panic?" demanded Loren with contempt. "They trusted you ..." His eyes roamed over the diners at the caf�, some of whom were now listening avidly.

Preston frowned and then blustered, "I ... I had no control over the stock market ... as you well know ..."

"Never showed an ounce of pity for any o' those folk," added Loren for good measure. "I was kind o' surprised when you turned up here agin ..." He paused and his eyes narrowed. "Why *did* ya turn up here agin? The job at the Chateau the only one you could git? I know I couldn' work at a place I used ta own ..."

Preston's chest puffed out. "I aim to reclaim ... ah ... rebuild my business," he replied haughtily.

"That mean you'll make good for all them folks whose money ya lost?" asked Hank, clearly enjoying seeing the banker under pressure.

When Preston did not answer, Loren pounced. "Thought as much ... long as business is good for Preston Lodge ... then everyone else can go hang ..."

Preston's eyes narrowed angrily. "I doubt that you can say you have always abided by a strict code of business ethics Loren," he said, his voice low and steely.

Loren also lowered his voice. "If you're sayin' I aint always bin honest ... prove it ... Maybe I've done some things in the past I regret ... but I aint ever seen one o' my customers lose their life savin's cos o' me ... an' I sure wouldn' walk away from 'em even if I did ... I'd try ta make it up to 'em ..."

"The banking and investment business doesn't work like that," rejoined Preston coolly. "The customer invests at his own risk ..."

"Well then its lucky I didn' have my business with you aint it?... Fact is, Harold lost some in the crash ... but he didn' lose everythin' ... an' he's bin workin' hard ta make sure *his* investors do alright now ... think I'll stick with him ..."

Preston shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. "That's your choice Loren ... but you'll be sorry when the Bank of Colorado is the largest in the territory ... and its investors begin to see a considerable return for their money ..."

"Yeah it *is* my choice Preston," rejoined Loren with a derisive chuckle. "An' I'll believe it when I see it ..."

The banker's jaw clenched and he turned back to survey his recently arrived meal. "You will indeed Loren," he commented smugly. Picking up his knife and fork, he reiterated under his breath, "You will indeed."

ACT I

Michaela, still absorbed in her lengthy missive, was startled from her trance by a pair of large, but loving hands suddenly resting on her shoulders. She jumped and swivelled around to see Sully smiling down at her. "You look real pleased with yourself," he remarked, moving around to take the seat beside her.

"Not with me," she said with a grin. "With Colleen ... You know she was expecting to receive her examination results when they returned to Philadelphia after Christmas?" When he nodded, she continued, "Straight A's ... every subject," she explained proudly. "Andrew took her out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate ..."

Michaela's delight was infectious. "That's great," he agreed with a smile. "One semester down an' no problems with her studies ... She seems ta be handlin' it real well ..."

"I'm so proud of her Sully ... it can't be easy for her ..."

"She's a clever lady like her ma ... an' she's got a good head on her shoulders ... She's workin' towards her goals ... Aint that what you taught her?" commented Sully sincerely, his eyes holding hers and his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand.

She nodded and bit her lip, unable to hide the happy and proud upturn of her mouth.

"What's got you lookin' like you're the cat who got all the cream Dr Mike?" asked Grace jovially, as she approached with a steaming coffee pot.

Michaela shyly flourished the letter from back east and Grace frowned in puzzlement.

"Its from Colleen," explained Sully. "She did real well in her examinations."

Grace's eyes opened wide. "She did?" she exclaimed excitedly. "That's great Dr Mike .. Sully ... Now why are ya keepin' quiet about a letter like that ... you must be real proud ..."

"I am Grace," rejoined Michaela softly. "But I don't want people to think I'm boasting ..."

"You got a right ta boast ... Don' remember anyone from Colorado Springs ever gettin' 'emselves a college degree before ... an' doctorin's real special ... We all know how clever ya have ta be ... an' how hard ya gotta work ...," responded Grace, her smile as broad as Michaela's. She reached for the letter and then, waving it, said loudly, "Looky here everyone ... Colleen's done real well in Philadelphia .... Dr Mike an' Sully just heard ..."

Within seconds Loren, the Reverend and Anna Marie were by the Sullys' side. Even Hank and Jake nonchalantly wandered over, feigning a scant interest.

Preston regarded the happy gathering with disdain. Small town people with small town ideals! Grace's meatloaf which he usually enjoyed (not that he'd ever tell anyone that) suddenly turned to cardboard in his mouth. He'd had such plans! Well he wouldn't let one man thwart him. If he couldn't succeed with one thing, he'd aim for another. He sniffed haughtily at the laughter emanating from the Sully table. He'd show them.

"Michaela! Michaela?!" called Dorothy excitedly, as she rushed into the caf� confines brandishing some papers in her hand. Everyone's head flew up and eyes narrowed in speculation as she hurried towards her friend. Oblivious to the many eyes on her, she exclaimed excitedly, "They published it! They actually published it!" She stopped at the Sully table, out of breath.

"Published what Dorothy?" asked Michaela, reaching for the now slightly crumpled papers.

"My article ... the one about East Fork ... They published it!" an elated Dorothy explained. "It was in last week's Chicago Tribune ... an' they sent me a bank draft for it too ..." Her eyes met Loren's. "Now I can git those printin' supplies I need ... an' pay off my bill ..."

Michaela and Sully's heads were bent over the article. "They didn' change it ....," murmured Sully in wonderment. "Not one word ..."

Dorothy's chest puffed out proudly. "I'm learnin' Sully ... When I sent it out I told 'em they could publish it right away ... without gittin' back to me ... long as they didn' change anythin' ... I told Cloud Dancin' I'd try ta let people know about East Fork ... but I never really ..." She trailed off and held her hand to her mouth as her lips began to tremble. "I ... I never really expected it ta happen ... An' ta git paid for it too ..." She swallowed hard as tears glimmered in her eyes. "I can't wait ta tell him ...."

Michaela grasped her friend's hand. "Cloud Dancin' will be so proud ...," she said softly.

"He aint the only one," offered Loren magnanimously. Raising his voice a little, he said smugly, "Looks like our little newspaper's gonna make its mark ..."

"If you want the rest of the country to think we're all indian sympathisers," muttered Preston derisively, still seated at his table a short distance away.

Never one to miss an opportunity to go one up on the banker, Hank couldn't resist saying, "Looks like another one o' your investments that got away, hey Preston? Didn' you *used ta* own half o' the Colorado Springs Gazette?"

Preston abruptly stood. "You might think you're all so smart and successful now," he sneered, his eyes roaming over the entire gathering. "But I have much bigger fish to fry ... I expect to make a rather momentous announcement within the next few weeks ... We'll see whether you're all so conceited and disparaging then." He angrily screwed up the disappointing letter he'd been reading, tossed it onto his gravy-smeared plate and marched out of the caf�. Those such as Dorothy, Michaela and Sully who had been unaware of earlier discussions, regarded him in bemused surprise, wondering what had prompted such a reaction. However, Hank, Loren and Jake all chuckled derisively and returned to their table, but not before the barkeep quickly and surreptitiously lifted the crumpled letter from Preston's plate and stuffed it into his trouser pocket.

*******************
"Give Cloud Dancing our love and tell him we'd love for him to visit soon, perhaps Sunday ... for supper," instructed Michaela fondly, as Dorothy mounted her horse in the livery yard later the same day.

"I'll tell him Michaela," she answered from her perch high up on the chestnut's back. She bit her lip and asked unsurely, "Do you really think he'll be proud? I so want him to be .."

Michaela reached up and grasped her hand. "Of course he will be ... so many more people now know about the problems and conditions out at East Fork ... that's what was needed," Michaela assured her.

Dorothy nodded and gave her a half smile. "I just never believed any o' the big newspapers would publish my writin' ... an' not just because its about the indian situation," she said softly. "But Cloud Dancin' has such faith in me ..."

Michaela gave her friend's hand a squeeze. "You're a good writer Dorothy ... don't you ever doubt that ...," she said reassuringly. "I'm not surprised Cloud Dancing believes in you ..."

"You better git goin' or you're gonna run out o' daylight," suggested Sully with an indulgent smile, gently patting the horse's rump.

Dorothy smiled gratefully at them both and then swung the chestnut around to head out of town. "Thanks Michaela ... Sully," she said sincerely, giving her steed a gentle nudge in the ribs and setting off up the street.

Lost in thought, Michaela watched the direction her friend had taken for a long time, even after she'd disappeared around a bend and out of sight. At last Sully from beside her, inquired, "You finished at the clinic? ... Wanna walk a while 'fore we head home?"

She swallowed and then nodded, threading her arm through his and automatically falling into step beside him. They wandered in companionable silence across the meadow to the edge of the woods, until at last Sully said, "You're awful quiet ..."

"I am?" she asked with surprise.

"Uh huh ... What ya thinkin' about?"

She lowered her head and replied softly, "Dorothy and Cloud Dancing ..."

"What about 'em?" urged Sully, aware that he had to give Michaela some time to voice her thoughts.

She halted and looked up into his eyes. "Do you think they're happy?" she asked unexpectedly.

He frowned. "Ya mean separate ... or as a couple?" he queried, leading her to sit beside him on a fallen tree branch.

"Both ..," she replied. "They each deserve to be happy ... they've been through so much ... but ..."

"You think they aren't?" he asked with surprise.

She shrugged. "I don't know ... they seemed to become so close last year ... I thought ... I hoped ... But something changed ..."

"Maybe they realised tryin' ta be together was hopeless ..."

Michaela's head flew up. "That doesn't sound like you!" she exclaimed. "Nothing's ever hopeless ..."

This time *he* shrugged. "Some things are ... no matter how hard we try," he returned wearily.

"Not hopeless Sully ... desperate perhaps ... But while-ever something, no matter how small, can be done about a situation ... its not hopeless ...," she rejoined resolutely. "Who would ever have thought a big city newspaper would print Dorothy's article about East Fork ..."

"For all the good it'll do ..."

"You don't know what effect it might have ... It only takes one influential person to read it ...," she continued determinedly.

"I guess ... but it all takes so long ... an' so little seems ta happen ..."

Michaela swallowed. This was a topic of conversation that had been covered so many times in the past. No matter how hard she tried, she could never convince Sully that even small achievements had merit, when all he could see was the gradual and steady destruction of the land and the deliberate eradication of the indian population throughout the western frontier. Steering him back to the original subject, she asked softly, "Do you really think Cloud Dancing and Dorothy see their situation as hopeless?"

He shrugged. "Think about it ... No matter how they feel ... they aint ever gonna be able to be together ... I mean like you an' me are ... Folks wouldn' stand for it ...," he replied, his tone both thoughtful and regretful.

"Its not fair," muttered Michaela in reply. "Its obvious they care deeply for each other ..."

"You think?"

"Oh yes ... you only have to watch them together," she asserted at once. She abruptly moved in closer to him, lovingly wrapped her arm around his shoulder and mused, "We thought we were too different ... that our worlds were too far apart ..." She trailed off and bit her lip momentarily before continuing, "But what we faced was nothing compared to Dorothy and Cloud Dancing. How can he become a part of her world here in town? ... And I doubt she could become part of his at Palmer Creek ... secreted away out there ... always afraid of the army ..."

"Seems ta me they're livin' like that now ... she spends a lot o' time there ..."

"But she returns to town ... she *has* to return to town or the townspeople would become suspicious ..."

"Some already are ..."

She gave him a wry smile. "I know ... Her friends have turned a blind eye to her friendship with Cloud Dancing - Loren, Jake, even Hank, despite his jibes ... I doubt we'd have seen that a few years ago ... but there are others who could make her life very complicated ... more complicated than it already is ..."

"So what do ya want us to do about it?" he queried. "I reckon there aint no easy answers ..."

She frowned in thought and then peered up into his eyes. "You think we should stay out of it?" she asked quietly.

"I didn' say that ... but they're adults Michaela ... in a real tricky situation ... Guess they gotta decide for 'emselves what they do ..."

"That doesn't mean we can't support them ..."

"Course it don't. That's what we've bin doin' all along ..."

Michaela stood and then drew him up and into her arms. "Just like they each supported us when we weren't too sure what to do ...," she said softly, resting her cheek against his chest.

"Uh huh ... we owe 'em," he rejoined, lovingly kissing the top of her head nestled in under his chin.

"We certainly do ... and I so badly want them to be as happy as we are ..."

He hugged her closer. "We gotta give 'em time Michaela ... they've got a lot ta work out ... but maybe you could make sure Dorothy's included in that invitation ta supper on Sunday huh?"

She arched her back and looked up into his warm, sparkling eyes. Smiling, she rejoined lovingly, "I'll make sure ... and I love you too Mr Sully ..." With that, she raised herself on tiptoes and kissed him soundly, just for the moment putting any troubled thoughts of their friends right out of their minds.

*******************
"Well are ya gonna tell me what was in it or not?" demanded Loren, as he leant beside Hank on the railing outside the Gold Nugget saloon. In the early twilight the last stragglers passed them as they left town for their homes on the outskirts.

Hank took a nonchalant swig of whisky and asked mildly, "In what?"

Loren parodied him and then returned in the same tone, "You know what I'm talkin' about ... I saw ya put it in your pocket .."

Hank grimaced. "Have ta practice some more ... thought I'd bin pretty quick ...," he jested.

Loren chuckled. "You were ... but I saw ya anyway... Now what was in it? ... Whatever it was, it had Preston pretty mad ..."

Hank grinned slyly. "Let's just say he aint likely to be makin' that grand announcement any time soon ..."

"He aint?"

Hank shook his head and took another swig. "Seems his business deal fell through ..."

Loren turned to face him more squarely. "An' what business deal was that?"

Hank couldn't contain his smugness. He withdrew the now roughly folded letter from his pocket and handed it to Loren. He quietly speculated as the older man unfolded it, "Ever notice how quiet the bank is since the Panic? You know anyone who uses it now?"

Loren shook his head and began to read, a wry smile gradually appearing on his weathered old face. "After much consideration of your offer, I must decline. You, as an astute businessman, must be aware of the increasing value of such a prime establishment as the Colorado Springs Chateau and Resort. Therefore, I could not at this time consider an offer which does not improve significantly upon the original price. If at some later date you find yourself able to increase your offer I will of course give it my due consideration," he read. He glanced up at Hank, his eyes alight. "Its signed by Senator Dinston," he gloated. "Preston was tryin' ta buy back the Chateau ... Aint any businessman alive is gonna sell a property for the same price he paid for it ... especially not to the original seller ..."

Hank's eyebrows rose. "Like I said ... ever notice how quiet the bank is these days?"

"You think Preston's not doin' so good? His father ..."

"Ever known his father ta help out before ... didn' even offer ta help when that tornado hit the Chateau ... remember?"

"But looks like Preston found enough ta make an offer for the place," mused Loren.

"Not enough ta buy it though ... an' goin' on his mood in the caf� ... I'd say his offer was as high as he could go ...," suggested Hank shrewdly.

Loren chuckled. "Don' have a lot o' sympathy for the fella ... He's never made an effort ta fit in here ... reckons he's much too grand an' educated for the likes of us ...," he stated wryly.

Hank grinned. "Lookin' forward to this announcement he's gonna make." He nodded towards the dim interior of the saloon. "Care for another drink?" he asked with a smug smile as he led Loren inside.

*****************
"You say this newspaper is one of the biggest in the country?" queried Cloud Dancing, as he sat before a fire at Palmer Creek, the relevant page of the Chicago Tribune spread out across his knee.

"Uh huh ... well it aint as big as the New York or Boston papers ... but its big alright," returned Dorothy, still waiting anxiously for her dear friend's reaction to the publication of the East Fork article.

His back straightened and he turned to smile proudly at her. "Then it is good ... very good," he decreed. "Now many others will know the way my people are suffering ..."

Dorothy bit her lip. "That's what Michaela said," she adjured softly. "An' there's a chance some other big city paper might pick it up now its bin published in Chicago ..."

He impulsively reached out to grasp her hand and squeeze. "Black Kettle would be proud of you," he said sincerely.

"An' you?" she asked tentatively.

His brown eyes met her blue and then he raised her hand to his lips. "What you have done for my people ... There are no words to tell you how I feel ...," he replied sincerely.

She smiled shyly and rested her other hand over their clasped ones. "You don' need words," she said tenderly. "You just told me anyways ..." She slowly raised their hands and repeated the gesture, then rested them under her chin and sighed. When he tilted his head and leaned it against hers she sighed again. "I guess I knew how you'd feel about it," she said softly. "But ..."

"But ... you wanted to hear it from me ... and then I didn't do a very good job of it ..."

She smiled again. "You did a perfect job of it," she rejoined. "Just perfect ... I was so proud ... an' I wanted you ta be proud too ... I just hope it does some good ..."

"People must learn of what is happening to the indian tribes ... In the big cities, they know so little of what is happening out here ... Now because of your newspaper article, more people know ... especially of what the government is trying to do ...," he assured her. "Thank-you .."

"You're welcome ... I've come to think of the Cheyenne as my friends ... I did it for them ... an' you especially ..." She lowered her head and added, her words barely audible, "My *dear* friend ..." Giving herself a shake, she straightened and then edged forward preparatory to standing.

Cloud Dancing's hand held hers firmly, effectively halting her movement. "If things were different ...," he murmured soulfully.

She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. "If things were different?" she whispered.

The medicine man sighed. "But they are not," he muttered resignedly. "Nothing has changed ..."

She took a deep breath. "You're wrong ya know," she rejoined with certainty. "Something *has* changed ..."

He regarded her quizzically. "It has?" he questioned.

"Well ... *I* think it has," she returned, perhaps a little less surely. "Maybe changed aint the right word ... maybe strengthened or deepened might be better .."

He immediately smiled, realising her intent, then raised her hand to his lips once more. "Friends we said," he murmured wistfully. "We must remain friends ..."

"We'll always be friends Cloud Dancin' ... no matter what happens ... but I can't help it if my feelin's are gettin' stronger ... an' they are ... I miss ya so much when you're away ... like when ya went north with Shinin' Star .. an' I so look forward to comin' out here ... or when you visit ... an' I wanna hear what *you* think about somethin' before I make up my own mind ..." She paused and swallowed. "I can't help it ... an' sometimes I don't want to ...," she admitted, her skin flushing becomingly. "Its just how I feel ..."

His voice low and a touch husky, he confessed, "It is the way I feel also ... When I am away ... there is a part of my heart that is empty ... but when I return it fills again ..." Her blush deepened as he added, "And it overflows when you succeed in something like this." He flourished the newspaper pages, then carefully folded them and handed them back to her. He looked up into the rapidly darkening sky. "Day will soon be replaced by night ... you should be returning to town ..."

She nodded and stood. "You're right," she said resignedly. She turned to face him. "But I wish ..."

"You wish?"

"I ... I ... wish I didn' have to go ... that I could stay here with you ..."

"I wish that also ..."

"You do?" Dorothy asked in awe. "You mean ..."

He gave her a slight teasing smile. "I mean I would like to spend more time with you than we are able ... We could talk ... "

She swallowed deeply. "Of course ... we could talk," she repeated, unable to completely hide the disappointment from her voice.

He rose and stepped in close to her. "There is much I would like to share with you ... but the risks are too great ... I could never forgive myself if something happened to you ...," he told her, his feelings unmistakable.

"Nor I you," she replied softly, sincerely. "But it aint fair ..."

"There is much that is not fair ..."

Her eyes flew to his. "I know it," she returned instantly. "An' we're just two people caught up in it all ... but ..."

"But if things were different," he concluded.

She smiled wryly. "Yeah ... if things were different," she reiterated. She too glanced up at the now night sky. "Nobody'll be lookin' for me tonight," she mused. "Maybe I could stay just a little longer ... have supper with ya?"

He smiled and led her back to the fire. "I would like that ... and later I will escort you back to town ..."

She grasped his hand. "And *I* would like that," she returned, sitting herself down close beside him once more.

ACT II

Watched by a million twinkling stars and the new moon above, Dorothy rode slowly down the dark, deserted streets of Colorado Springs towards the Gazette office. Faint light emanated from a couple of rooms out back of the saloon, and a spluttering lamp by the clinic struggled to survive as its supply of oil began to run out. She knew it was probably well after midnight and that she'd rue it in the morning when she had to get up and begin work on a new issue of the paper, but she smiled anyway. She resisted the temptation to look back for Cloud Dancing who she instinctively knew would still be watching from the edge of town. It was pleasing to know he felt the same way as she did. They'd shared a lovely evening together. They *had* talked, more than they ever had before, and he'd held her close. She could still feel his arms around her - safe, secure, loving arms. She smiled once more and then frowned when the reality of their situation caught up with her again. Oh to live in a perfect world!

She drew her chestnut to a halt in front of the newspaper office and wearily slid from its back to the ground, only to realise it would probably be best if she took it straight to the livery, then nobody would wonder about its presence in the morning. She sighed. She was beginning to feel very tired. She absent-mindedly stroked the horse's ears, then grasped the reins to lead it down the alley between her office and the clinic.

"Kinda late for a lady ta be out ridin' aint it Dorothy?" called a loud and gruff voice from across the street. "Never know who ya might meet out there ..."

She spun around to face him, his form barely visible in the moonlight, his voice unmistakable. "You'd have to agree ... it's a beautiful night, aint it Hank?" she replied, undaunted by his mocking tone.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Aint seen a lot o' it," he admitted. "An' I aint one ta be takin' moonlight rides ... Got better things ta do ..." He stepped down from the saloon porch. "Course ... if I had some company on the ride ... I might think different ..."

Dorothy gave him a wry look. "You see anyone else here Hank?" she asked assuredly.

"Not right now," he answered. "But I expect that injun's around here some place."

"And what indian would that be? I'm not in the habit of entertaining men at this hour of the night ... or any time of night for that matter ..."

The barkeep chuckled. "Real straight-laced aint we ...," he mocked. He suddenly became serious, his voice low and intent. "I'd be real careful if I were you Dorothy ... people are beginnin' ta notice ...," he warned.

"And what would they be noticing, Hank?" she asked, determined to keep her tone even.

"You know what I mean," he replied. "You aint a stupid woman ..."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she purred, her voice intentionally light.

"Quit the jokin' Dorothy ... You're gonna git yourself inta trouble if ya keep company with that injun ... People don' like it ... Remember what happened ta Sully in the beginnin' ..."

"Things are different now," she rejoined hopefully.

He shook his head. "They aint so different ... I know Loren's had a few people askin' what you're up to ..."

"Its none of his business ..."

"That's not how people see it ... You're related ... even if its only by marriage ... Folks know you two are close ..."

"Its still none of his business, nor anyone else's, what I do ... an' it aint your business neither ..."

Again he shrugged his shoulders. "Just thought I'd give ya a friendly warnin' ... Folks in this town've put up with plenty from them indians ... an' they aint gonna take kindly ta one o' their own keepin' company with one," he counselled. "An' count me in as one of 'em ..."

Dorothy took a deep breath. "Don't you think I know that?" she rejoined. "But it aint anyone else's business what I do ... or what company I keep ... I don' mess in your life ... I don' expect you to mess in mine ... Do I make myself clear?"

He held up his hands in mock defeat. "Alright, alright ... but don' say I didn' warn ya ... you're headin' for trouble ... the sort o' trouble your friends aint gonna be able ta git you out of ... Do *I* make *myself* clear?"

"Perfectly Hank ....," she returned exasperatedly. "Now I'm tired and I have ta git this horse back to the livery ... so I'll say goodnight ..."

As she turned her back on him, he too sighed exasperatedly, then, against his better judgement, offered, "Here ... I'll take it back ... Can't have a lady walkin' about town this time o' night ... Never know who she might meet in some dark corner ..." He strode across the street, grabbed the reins from an astounded Dorothy and took off down the alley before she could think of anything to say in response.

******************
Dr John Fulton stepped down from the mercantile and then warily across the busy street to the clinic, parcels balanced precariously in his arms. Reaching the clinic porch unscathed, he placed the parcels down on the wooden bench and then straightened his coat and hat before knocking at the door. It was opened almost immediately by Michaela, whose face broke into a wide smile when she spied her colleague. "John ... do come in," she greeted. "Its not often we see you in town during the week."

He smiled apologetically. "I hope you're not busy Michaela ... I had to place an order at the mercantile and Loren, assuming I'd be visiting with you, asked me to bring these over ... Apparently you ordered them some weeks ago ...," he informed her, lifting the cumbersome parcels from the bench.

"Ah ... my new sheets and bandage linens," she exclaimed. "I've been wondering when they might arrive. Thank-you for bringing them over ..." She stepped back, allowing him to precede her into the surgery.

He placed all but one package down on the examination table and turned to face her. "Well ... as much as I would like to pass the time of day with you Michaela ... I have an appointment in a little over a hour .. so I'd better be heading back ... I hope everything is going well for you here ..."

"Yes ... yes it is," she replied. "As the town grows, so does my patient list ... Are there a great many patrons using the Chateau facilities now?"

He smiled. "The promise of fine spring weather has brought a number of customers from back east ... though at the moment only a few of them require my services ...," he replied, edging toward the door. "I really must be going ..."

"Of course ... I hope to be visiting out at the Chateau in the next week or two ... I'll let you know," rejoined Michaela. "I have a couple of cases I'd like to consult with you on ..."

"I'll look forward to it," he replied, pulling the door open. As he did so, the bundle dangling from his hand banged against the door jamb, breaking the flimsy string and spilling its contents over the threshold. He immediately bent to pick them up, as did Michaela.

"I didn't know you were such an avid reader John," she commented. "The Denver Post, San Francisco Chronicle, Chicago Tribune, Kansas City Times ..."

He reddened, quickly took the newspapers from her and wedged them under his arm. "Ah ... Horace has been ordering them for me," he explained. "I collect them from him once a week ..."

She regarded him quizzically, wondering about his apparent embarrassment. "It must take you all week to get through them," she observed mildly.

He gave her a wry look and at last admitted, "The truth is Michaela ... I've been searching for a new position."

"You're going to leave the Chateau!" she exclaimed in shock. "You've been here such a short time!"

He coughed and then explained haltingly, "Actually I .. I ... enjoy my work at the Chateau ... and I've also built up a small list of patients from the surrounding area ... but ..."

"But?"

He concluded in a rush, "Ever since I arrived here I've heard how difficult Preston Lodge made life for my predecessor. If he is to retake control of the Chateau and all its services, then I'm afraid I would find it impossible to work for him ..."

"Preston?! Preston is buying back the hotel?" asked Michaela in surprise.

"Well ... yes ... he informed me some weeks back that he would soon be my new employer ... I assumed you knew ..."

She shook her head. "No ... no I didn't," she replied. "I'd have thought Senator Dinston would have apprised me of the fact, though I'm not surprised Preston made no effort to do so. He is no doubt waiting to spring the surprise upon me."

"I ... I'm sorry Michaela. Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything. But you do understand why I'm looking for an alternative position, don't you?"

She nodded resignedly. "Yes ... I do understand. I know how difficult Preston made things for Andrew ... I wouldn't want him doing the same for you ... though I'll miss being able to consult on cases with you ..."

"And I you," he replied with a smile. "Thus my search continues ... My position here in Colorado Springs has, I'm afraid, made many others appear singularly unattractive ..."

Michaela held out her hand. "I wish you luck John in your search ... but please don't hasten away too quickly ..."

He took her hand and shook it lightly. "I won't ... and I'll look forward to seeing you out at the Chateau in the near future." He bowed slightly. "Good day Michaela," he said, as he stepped out into the cool breeze and headed for the livery.

Michaela watched him go, her mind whirling. It came as quite a surprise to discover that Preston had recovered financially enough to be able to purchase back the Chateau. She and Sully had been instrumental in finding Senator Dinston to take the establishment off Preston's hands when his bank collapsed as a result of the Panic. Either he was a more astute businessman than she had given him credit for, or he was taking a great risk. Either way, it disappointed her to think that the Chateau clinic might no longer be her responsibility. She heaved a sigh and dolefully re-entered her own medical clinic.

*******************
"Ready ta go?" asked Sully, when Michaela answered the clinic door to his knock. Katie, wearing her winter coat and hat, was perched high up on his shoulders.

Michaela stood on tiptoes to give them both a kiss and then replied, "Yes ... but I want to go via the telegraph office ... I need to post this letter to Colleen and Andrew ..."

Sully smiled. "Didn' ya write to 'em yesterday ... about her examination results?"

She blushed. "Yes ... but I forgot a few things ... I had some time over lunch so ..."

"So ya thought ya better git 'em down before ya forgot 'em agin huh?" he teased. He took her hand. "Come on ... we'll walk down there ... then maybe on the way back we can check if Grace has a pie left over ..." He raised his eyebrows hopefully, causing her to chuckle. She pulled the door shut and they set off

"Me hold, pease," implored Katie, reaching down for the letter in her ma's hand.

Michaela peered up at her. "Don't drop it," she warned, as she handed it up. The little girl gave her head an exaggerated shake and clasped the letter to her chest. Michaela smiled and reached out to lovingly stroke her daughter's stockinged leg.

As they walked along, Sully began to playfully bounce up and down, causing Katie to giggle loudly and wrap her arms tightly around his head to stop herself from falling sideways. Michaela joined in the laughter, all the while watching that the letter did not slip to the ground. Nearing the train station, she raised her eyes to the office and abruptly her laughter subsided, to be replaced by a contemplative frown. Sully was instantly aware of it. He too frowned, wondering at the sudden change in her demeanour. They continued on, mounting the few steps to the station platform.

"Is this an S or an R Preston?" asked Horace, obviously having some difficulty deciphering the banker's script.

"The man's name is Graves Horace, not Graver," replied Preston impatiently. "And I want the wire sent immediately."

"It'll be sent directly," rejoined the telegraph operator, accustomed to Preston's demanding ways.

"I said immediately," the banker reiterated firmly. "Then I want the exact same wire sent to this man." He lay a piece of paper on the counter and pointed to a name. "Followed by this man," he added, pointing to another name on the list.

"Gonna take a while Preston ... It's a long wire ... an' I got other customers," complained Horace, indicating with a nod of his head, the Sullys behind him.

Preston spun around to face them and after a fleeting frown, smiled condescendingly. "Ah ... Michaela ... Sully ... You don't mind waiting until Horace finishes sending my wires do you?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. "They are most important ... and must go out this evening."

"I only have a letter to post Preston," rejoined Michaela coldly.

"Ah yes ... well Horace can take care of that in a few minutes," the banker suggested, turning back to the harried telegraph operator. "How's it going Horace?" he asked. "Nearly finished?"

"First one's sent," returned Horace, his brow creased in thought. "Second is on its way. Won't be a minute Dr Mike ... Sully ... Sorry about this ..."

The banker flashed a satisfied smile in the Sully and Michaela direction and then once again turned his attention to the telegraph operator.

"It's alright Horace," called Michaela reassuringly. "We'll wait ... its not your fault ..."

Turning once more and giving her a wide, self-satisfied smile, Preston said, "Thank-you Michaela ... I knew you'd understand."

"I understand you're harassing poor Horace," rejoined Michaela coolly. "He has far too much to do here already without his customers being unreasonable in their demands."

"Yes ... perhaps it *is* time we did something about getting him some help here ... We can't have progress held up due merely to a lack of facilities or personnel, now can we?" rejoined Preston patronisingly.

While Sully quietly humphed in disgust, Michaela saw her opening. "Talking about progress Preston ... When exactly were you intending to tell us your news?"

"News Michaela?" asked Preston in surprise.

"I believe this urgency has something to do with a new investment, does it not?" she asked mildly. "As I have an interest in its outcome .. I'd appreciate being told."

He frowned. "I have no idea what you are talking about," he returned immediately. "Yes ... I am working on a new business deal ... one which I might add should be very profitable for this town ... but I fail to see how it involves you particularly."

"You forget I am in charge of the Chateau medical clinic Preston .."

"No ... I am all too well aware of that ... but I still see no connection ..."

She sighed in exasperation. "If you purchase the Chateau from Senator Dinston ... then my own and John Fulton's positions out there must come under consideration, must they not?" she stated emphatically. Beside her, Sully's eyes opened wide in shocked surprise.

Preston's jaw set and his eyes narrowed. "It seems someone has been speaking out of turn," he grumbled.

"Weren't me," called Horace from the office. "I didn' even know you were thinkin' o' buyin' back the Chateau." He had too often in the past been accused of divulging information contained in private telegrams.

"It doesn't matter who it was Preston," Michaela continued. "Are you, or are you not, about to take over the Chateau?"

He took a deep breath. "As it happens Michaela ... I am not," he finally disclosed. "It was, at one time, my aim to regain ownership of the establishment I developed and built ... however, I have decided to move on ... to undertake a new challenge ... I have advised Senator Dinston that my offer is withdrawn ..."

Michaela's eyes opened wide. "But ... but ... you are staying in Colorado Springs?" she queried.

"Of course ... I have always made it clear that I believe the frontier provides many opportunities."

"Opportunities ta make money fast at the expense o' the people involved," interjected Sully resentfully.

"That is *your* view Sully, and as you know, I have little interest in your opinion of my business dealings," rejoined Preston dismissively.

"There ... finished," declared Horace, slapping the list of names down on the counter. "That'll be $2.25 Preston."

The banker dropped the money into Horace's outstretched hand. "Thank-you Horace," he said, then turned to Michaela and Sully. "You should make a point of being present when I make my announcement about my new business venture Sully," he sneered. "I can assure you, this town will never be the same again." He doffed his hat at Michaela, straightened his coat and strode off down the street, watched intently by two sceptical and worried pairs of eyes.

In a Perfect World continued ....

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