Dr.

Quinn, Medicine Woman

Language of the Heart

by Debby K

WARNING: This story contains graphic descriptions of war

and death at the Battle of Little Big Horn.

************ She took a deep breath, "I treasure every minute

Chapter 1 that we do, Sully."
************
"Me, too," he smiled. "Michaela...."

She knew something was on his mind, "What?"

"Why did you bring me out here, Sully?" Michaela
grinned slightly.
She glanced out across the landscape. Mountain
peaks in the distance, still snow covered at their
crests, signaled that the summer weather had not
yet melted their icy summits. Sully had told her
that he wanted to go for a ride, but without
specifying where, Michaela's curiosity was aroused.
"Just wanted ya t' see this view," he assisted her in
dismounting her horse.
"I'm leavin' t' find Cloud Dancin' t'morrow," he told
her.
"Tomorrow?" her heart sank.
"Well, ya know I wanted t' leave for Montana on
the 25th o' June," he explained. "But Jake insisted I
start on his house first. Then I stayed for the
Centennial Independence Day picnic for you an' the
kids. But now that I got some time 'fore the next
lumber shipment arrives, I thought I'd ride up t'...."

She stood transfixed for a moment, admiring the
vista.
Sully wrapped his arms around her, "Ain't it
beautiful?"
"Mmmm," she agreed, warmed by his touch.
"Sometimes it's important t' stop an' admire the
view," he spoke near her ear.
He paused, noting her expression.
Not wanting to make things more difficult for him,
she rubbed his arms, "Don't worry about us."
"Sure am gonna miss ya," he leaned closer.
She raised her hands to frame his face, drinking in
every bit of his handsome features, "I'll miss you,
too."

She rested her arms on his chest, "I'm glad that you "I've never been real good at good-byes," he
remind me of things like that." released his hold on her and turned away.

"Plus, I wanted us t' spend a little time t'gether,"

his voice hinted at another reason.

1
"But you're very good at welcome homes," she
touched his shoulder.
He picked up a small stone and threw it as far as he
could. Michaela watched it soar, then turned to
him, noticing his expression.
"Sully, tell me what's bothering you," she sensed
something different in him.
"I'm sorta dreadin' what I might find when I reach
Cloud Dancin'," he confided.
"I know what you mean," she nodded.
"Wish I could figure out why the world's so upside
down," he folded his arms.
Michaela's heart reached out to her husband in his
pensive mood, "There are some things in life that
are sure and certain."
"Like what?" the blue of his eyes captivated her
each time he gazed at her.
"Like us," she reminded him.
"We're about the only thing in life I can count on,"
he touched her cheek with his fingertips.
"That's quite a lot, you know," she smiled.
He took a deep breath and pulled her into his arms,
"Oh, Michaela."
She leaned her head against his chest, "I hate
seeing you so lost, Sully."
"I ain't lost when I'm in your arms," he cupped his
hand against the back of her head. "I can't help
thinkin' what things have come down to. Everythin'
the Cheyenne used t' have.... all gone."
"I know," she agreed.
"I fought so long an' so hard," his voice choked.
"Seems like it was all for nothin'."
2
She pulled back to look at him, "No, Sully. It wasn't
for nothing. Everything you did was to help."
"I made a mess," he recalled his time in hiding.
"It's the Army who made the mess," she countered.
"Your motives and your heart were always in the
right place."
"How do ya do it?" he grinned.
"Do what?" she smiled.
"How do ya make me feel so good, so loved?" he
ran his hands up and down her back.
"Because you are so good and so loved," she
retorted.
"Reckon I better get ya back t' town," he sighed.
"The children love spending the time with their
godparents," she hesitated.
"That mean ya ain't in a hurry?" he grinned.
"I think a leisurely pace is just what the doctor
ordered," she slipped her palm through the
opening of his shirt.
Sully's pulse quickened, "I love you, Michaela."
"I love you, too," she kissed his chest.
Holding her next his heart, Sully felt an incredible
peace, one that he only found in his wife's arms. He
had brought her here, hoping to feel her love. He
experienced that and more.
"Lost in thought again?" she pulled back.
"Lost in you," he kissed her tenderly.
"Why don't we sit down?" she gestured.
"Sure ya can spare some time?" he hoped she
wanted to stay.
"There is nowhere I would rather be than with you,
Sully," she assured him.
There were few things in life which put her
husband in a state of melancholy. Coping with
what had happened to the Indians was one of
them. Her emotions paralleled his when it came to
viewing the government's treatment of the
Cheyenne.
Michaela sat down and patted the ground next to
her as an invitation for Sully to join her. A smile
crossed his face. He knelt down before her and
raised her hand to his lips. Then he positioned
himself beside her.
"How'd I get so lucky?" he toyed with a lock of her
hair.
"Good living?" she teased.
"Look, Michaela!" he pointed to a pair of hawks
soaring above them.
"Look at their movements," she rested her cheek
next to his. "One moves, the other reacts. They are
in such perfect accord, as if they're two bodies but
one spirit."
"Like us," he smiled.
She placed her palm over his heart and let it linger
there.
"What ya doin'?" he covered her hand with his.
"Feeling the rhythm of your heart," she replied.
"I'm gonna miss you an' the kids so much," his eyes
captured her soul.
"Nothing can break our incredible bond, Sully,"
Michaela's voice was soothing to him. "Wherever
we may travel, we are still with one another."
"You're so beautiful," he placed his fingers just
beneath her chin. "I was wonderin'...."
3
"Yes?" she anticipated his question.
"I was wonderin' if maybe you an' me could....," he
paused.
"Could what?" she smiled at his hesitation. "It's not
like you to be shy, Mr. Sully."
He inhaled the pure mountain air and closed his
eyes to absorb all of the sounds around them.
"Sully," she caressed the hair behind his ear. "What
is it?"
"I'm havin' a real powerful desire t' love ya right
now," he revealed.
Michaela smiled, "That's funny."
"Funny?" he found her statement odd.
"It's funny because I have that same desire," she
replied. "Out here beneath the hawk and his mate
in flight."
"Seems like we both want the same thing," he
grinned.
"In certain matters," she amended.
"So," he leaned closer and kissed her neck.
"So," she tilted her head back to relish the touch.
"Tell me what you're feelin'," he stroked her arms.
"Oh, my," she blushed from her body's reaction to
him.
He held her gaze and recited:
"Then nature rule,
And love, devoid of art,
Spoke the consenting language
of the heart."
"Byron?" she could scarcely breath.
"John Gay," he noted. "So... tell me what you're
feelin'."
"You know what I'm feeling," her pulse surged.
"I wanna hear ya say the words," he undid the
button of her blouse at the neck. "Everythin' ya
feel."
"Why?" she kissed his palm. "We rarely talk when
we...."
"'Cause I need t' know," he continued until he
could lower the material off her shoulders.
"I'm feeling... very warm," her voice quivered.
Sully slid his fingers beneath the straps of her
camisole and pulled them down toward her
elbows, "An' now?"
Her breath caught in her throat, so heightened
were her senses.
"Now..." she tingled. "Now I feel alive and
overwhelmingly in love with you." Then she pulled
his shirt from his buckskins, and undid them. "How
about you, Mr. Sully? What are you feeling?"
He gasped as her hand found its way to his most
sensitive place, "I'm feelin' like we're about done
talkin'."
Neither was capable of speaking another word.
Their passionate cravings took over and
transported them beyond the realm of reason or
logic. Sully withheld the release of his energy until
Michaela was ready to share the warmth of his
love. Then when it came, he so enveloped her, she
felt as if he had touched the very core of her being.
Like the hawks above them, their bodies soared
together as one spirit.
Michaela shivered in his arms, prompting Sully to
drape his shirt across his wife.
Tenderly he kissed her temple, "Ya okay?"
4
"Oh, yes," her heart still leapt at the nearness of
him.
"Thank you, Michaela," he spoke.
"For loving you?" she raised an eyebrow.
"For that," he smiled. "An' a million other things.
I.... I need t' ask your forgiveness."
"For what?" she was puzzled.
"For anythin' I ever did that hurt ya," he
responded.
"Sully," his request had a ring of fatalism to it, and
it frightened her. "Why would you ask that? You
know I...."
"I just wanted ya t' know I never meant t' do
anythin' that would harm you or the kids," his eyes
reddened.
She caressed his cheek, "Listen to me. I love you,
and I harbor no regrets for anything you have
done. We are one, remember? We just proved that
a few moments ago. I know in my heart that you
would never do anything to hurt our children or
me. Do you understand?"
He nodded, and she pulled him closer for a kiss.
"I don't deserve t' be this happy," he was almost
inaudible.
"Sully, please don't feel guilty because of what you
have," she ran her hand down his stubbled face.
"We are blissfully happy, but your Cheyenne
brother is not. Cloud Dancing is living a life of
uncertainty and perhaps even fear. But it's not
because of anything you have done. On the
contrary, you have moved heaven and earth to
help. Please don't think that you are undeserving. I
know of no man who deserves to be happy more
than you."
"I'm afraid, Michaela," he said as his voice quaked.
"Oh, Sully," she threw her arms around him. "I
know you are."
Tears trickled down the sides of his face, "I can't
shake the feelin that Cloud Dancin's in terrible
trouble."
She kissed each tear, "I wish that I could go with
you."
He reached for his belt, and withdrew his knife
from its encasement.
"What are you doing?" she was surprised.
************
Chapter 2
************
"Why have you drawn your knife, Sully?" Michaela
repeated.
"I was wonderin' if I could take a lock of your hair?"
he requested shyly.
"Of course," she pulled her long tresses around
from her back for him.
Sully cut off a snippet, then loosened his medicine
pouch and placed it inside. Snugly securing the
ends again, he returned his knife to its sheath.
"Thank you," he tenderly gazed at her.
"Is there some significance in the Cheyenne
culture?" she was curious.
"No," he smiled. "Just significant t' me. Now, I can
carry part o' you with me."
"I see," she slipped her arms about his waist.
"Think we might return to town now? I'm missing a
couple of little ones."
"Me, too," he kissed her again. "Let's go."
************
5
"Miss Grace," Katie squashed the ground meat
between her fingers. "What ya put in the meat t'
make it loaf?"
"Now, that's a secret," Grace began tossing in some
spices.
"Ya sure cook good," the little girl grinned.
"Well, thank ya very much," the cafe owner's eyes
glistened. "An' you're a good helper."
"Ka-tee," Josef tugged at his sister's hem as she
stood atop a chair.
"No, Joey," she shook her head. "Ya can't help."
"Pwease?" he tapped her foot.
"Miss Grace," Katie turned to her godmother. "Can
Joey help?"
"Robert E was s'posed t' be watchin' him," she
wiped her hands, then lifted the little boy.
A broad grin crossed his face now that he could
more clearly view the proceedings, "Pokle?"
"I'll get ya a pickle," Grace carried him to a jar. "Just
a little bite, though."
With the tasty cucumber in his mouth, the child
was now content.
"Robert E!" Grace called to her husband. "Where
are ya? Ya were s'posed t' watch this child."
Out of breath, he approached, "I was watchin' him,
woman. He got a way."
"Well, ya gotta be more careful," she charged.
"Miss Grace," Katie summoned her. "My hands are
gettin' tired."
"All right then," Grace handed Josef to Robert E.
"Let's get ya cleaned up, 'fore your Ma and Pa see
ya like this."
While Grace washed Katie, Robert E lifted Josef
high into the air and swung him around. Upon this
scene, Horace arrived.
"Have ya seen Sully?" the telegraph operator asked
urgently.
"Due back soon," Robert E cradled the giggling little
boy in his arms.
"Gosh," Horace smiled at the child. "Don't he look
more an' more like his Pa?"
"Sure does," the blacksmith held up Josef. "If
there's a telegram, I can give it t' him."
"Thanks," Horace handed the paper to him. "I gotta
get back t' the Depot."
Josef reached for the paper.
"Nope," Robert E cautioned. "That's for your Pa."
"Papa?" the little boy looked up hopefully.
"Right here, big boy," Sully's voice stirred the child.
"Papa!" Josef reached for his father.
Sully kissed his cheek, "Hope he was good for ya."
"Only got away from me once," Robert E grinned.
"Mama!" the toddler spotted Michaela.
Lifting him into her arms, she pulled back the hair
from his eyes and kissed him, "How are you, my
darling?"
Josef nodded, "Good."
"Where's Katie?" Sully searched.
"Grace is gettin' her cleaned up," the blacksmith
answered.
"Did she get int' somethin'?" Sully chuckled.
6
"Just helpin' make some meatloaf," Robert E
patted his back. "Oh, by the way. Horace brung ya
this telegram."
"Thanks," Sully opened it.
"What is it?" Michaela came to his side.
"Up, Papa," Josef requested.
"Not now, Joe," he read.
"Sully?" she became alarmed at his expression.
Suddenly Sully sank to his knees, dropping the
telegram.
"Robert E," Michaela handed Josef to his
godfather.
Kneeling beside her husband, she placed her hand
on his shoulder for support. She picked up the
telegram and read.
"Oh, my God," tears welled in her eyes. Then she
tried to assure Sully, "We don't know if Cloud
Dancing was there."
He stood up and headed off toward the meadow.
Michaela took a step toward him, then pulled back,
recognizing that he would prefer solitude at this
moment.
"What's wrong, Dr. Mike?" Robert E asked.
"There's been a battle at Little Big Horn," her voice
quivered. "An Indian village attacked by the Army.
Scores are dead."
"Mama!" Josef reached for his mother, noticing her
upset.
Robert E did not know what to say as Michaela
took her son.
Their silence was broken by Katie's call, "Mama!"
With Josef in her arms, she leaned down to greet
the little girl.
"Where's Poppy?" she wondered.
"He's in the meadow," she replied. "He'll join us
soon."
"Anythin' I can do, Dr. Mike?" Robert E offered.
"Could you watch the children for a little while
longer?" she requested. "I want to go tell Dorothy.
Then.... Sully will need me soon."
************
"Who's there?" the Reverend heard footsteps as he
prayed at the cemetery.
There was no response.
"Is there something I can do for you?" the minister
offered to the person standing nearby.
"It's me, Reverend," came the reply. "Sully."
"I didn't mean t' disturb you," the blind man
backed away. "If you prefer to be alone with Abigail
and Hannah."
"No," Sully touched his arm. "I just come here t'
think."
"You sound as if something is troubling you," he
perceived.
"Somethin' bad happened," Sully's voice cracked.
"What is it?" he was genuinely concerned.
"Massacre at Little Big Horn in Montana," the
mountain man informed him. "June 25th. Custer
attacked an Indian village."
"Oh, no," the minister shook his head.
Sully stated, "I need t' find out more."
7
Suddenly it occurred to the reverend, "Isn't that
where Cloud Dancing went?"
"He was with one o' the tribes ridin' with Sittin'
Bull," Sully noted. "Might've been there."
"I see," he lowered his head.
"If ya don't mind, Reverend," Sully said. "I'd like t'
be alone right now."
"Certainly," he set the tip of his cane to the ground.
"I'll keep him in my prayers."
Watching the minister leave, Sully again sank to the
ground and found his tears came quite easily.
************
"Dorothy," Michaela entered the Gazette office.
"Back here!" her friend called from the back room.
Then upon entering her front office she smiled.
"What brings ya here, Michaela?"
"There has been some news from Montana," she
broached the subject.
"From Cloud Dancin'?" Dorothy's heart leapt.
"No," Michaela searched for the right words. "Sully
received a telegram. There has been a battle at an
Indian encampment at Little Big Horn. Hundreds
were killed, including Custer."
Dorothy covered her mouth and sat down.
"That's all we know," Michaela concluded.
The redhead sprang into action, "I'm gonna get
over t' the Depot an' start wirin' other papers. See
what I can find out."
"Let us know if you learn any more," Michaela
called after her.
************
Michaela tentatively approached her husband, his
back to her. He tilted his head in recognition of her
scent. She sat down beside him on the edge of the
cemetery and rested her hand on his shoulder.
"Dorothy is sending out telegrams to try to learn
more," she told him.
"I'm leavin' first light t'morrow," he said.
"I'll come with you," she vowed.
"No, Michaela," he turned to face her for the first
time. "I don't want ya t' see that."
"But there will be wounded," she reasoned.
"The Army'll have people treatin' the wounded," he
countered.
"Not for the Indians," she knew.
He took a deep breath, "After what happened the
last time you an' me went up there, I... I don't want
ya comin'. That's final."
In anger, Sully stood up and began to walk toward
town. Then he stopped and paused. Pivoting
around to face his wife he returned to her and
offered his hand to help her up. Michaela accepted
and rose from the ground. Silently, he continued to
hold her hand, then led her toward the bridge
connecting to the main street.
************
"The boys will be back from Philadelphia at the end
of the week," Michaela finished reading a letter
from them.
"How's Colleen?" Sully leaned back against a porch
post, his children on his lap.
"Her grades are top of the class," Michaela
beamed.
"Colleen comin' home?" Katie hoped.
8
"No, Sweetheart," Michaela returned the note to
its envelope.
"Poppy?" Katie tapped her father's arm. "Why ya
sqeeezin' so tight?"
"I'm sorry," he loosened his grip on her. "I just
don't wanna let go, I guess."
"Don't worry 'bout me," the little girl smiled. "I not
gonna go 'way from home."
"Ya may change your mind one day, Kates," he
kissed her cheek.
"Papa," Josef pointed to a flying bug near the lamp.
"That's a moth, Joe," Sully lifted him a bit higher.
"They like the light."
"Don't they get burned?" Katie figured.
"If they get too close t' the flame," Sully nodded.
"Not s'posed t' get close t' fire," she recalled
repeated warnings from her parents.
"That's right," Michaela smiled.
"Sometimes the fire can't be avoided," Sully spoke
with a deeper meaning.
"Then what ya do, Poppy?" Katie was curious.
"Sully...." Michaela feared his words might frighten
her.
"Don't worry, sweet girl," he pulled her close again.
"I'll protect ya."
She hugged him, "You the best father in the
world!"
Josef reached up, "Bes."
The lump in Sully's throat made it difficult to
swallow. He looked at Michaela and caught sight of
a moistness on her cheek.
"I'll tell 'em about leavin' in the mornin'," he kissed
each little forehead tenderly.
************
Chapter 3
************
Dorothy had fallen asleep in a chair near her
printing press. Sounds from the Gold Nugget had
ebbed for the night, and a calm had fallen over
Colorado Springs. At first, she did not hear the faint
tapping at the window abutting the alleyway next
to Michaela's Clinic.
It came again, this time louder. She woke with a
start. Who could it be? She pulled up a few stray
strands of her red locks and looked for something
to use as a weapon. Nearby was a block of wood
which she sometimes used to hold open the
window. Then she went to investigate.
************
"Can't sleep?" Michaela stirred and sat up.
Sully was standing before an open window in their
bedroom, surveying the landscape.
He did not turn around, "Go on back t' sleep. I'm
fine."
She rose from the bed and went to him, "I wish I
knew what I could say or do that could take away
your anguish."
He smiled slightly and put his arm around her, "Just
you bein' here for me helps, Michaela."
She leaned her head against his chest, "I don't
know why this happened, Sully."
"Custer prob'ly ran head first int' it," he tenderly
touched his lips to the top of her head.
"Do you think the Army will permit you access to
the battle site to search for...." she could not finish
the thought.
9
"I don't care if they permit it or not," his words
were bitter.
She held back expressing her fears. He noted the
sudden tenseness in her body.
"I ain't gonna do anythin' t' get myself int' trouble,"
he assured her. "But I gotta find out what
happened."
"I know," she was barely audible. "Sully, what if you
don't find him?"
"I'll find him," he vowed.
"But what if nothing... remains?" she feared.
"I'll find someone who can tell me," he did not
consider the difficulty.
"I.... I should go with you," she pleaded.
"We been through that already," he tensed. "I
don't want ya t' see what might be out there. I
don't wanna have t' worry about ya."
She held her counsel, knowing it was no use
arguing with him. She preferred to hold him.
************
Dorothy reached the window and tentatively
glanced out. Then she saw him lying on the ground.
It was Cloud Dancing! With all of the speed she
could muster, she burst through the door and ran
to him. He was unconscious, bleeding from his side
and face, but still alive.
She knew she had to summon help quickly. Swiftly,
she raced to the home of Robert E and Grace.
Pounding on their door, she finally saw a lamp
light.
"Dorothy?" Robert E wiped the sleep from his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"Robert E," she kept her voice low. "It's Cloud
Dancin'. He's here in town, at the Gazette, but he's
hurt bad. Do ya think ya could ride out t' fetch
Michaela an' Sully?"
"Sure," he became more alert. "I'll get Grace so's
she can watch the children."
"Thank you," she brushed back a tear. "He's in the
alleyway between the office an' Clinic."
"I'll get him inside the Gazette 'fore I leave," he
reentered his house to waken his wife.
************
Michaela touched her husband's cheek, "I wish that
you could get some sleep before you leave."
"Don't know if I can," he sighed.
"Then at least lie down," she tugged gently at his
side. "For me?"
"All right," he agreed.
They climbed back into bed and settled into one
another's arms.
"When I'm with ya like this, I don't ever wanna
leave," he warmed at the nearness of her.
"It's our own little world," she said. "Only you and I
know what it's like here."
"I like that," he grinned. "Just you an' me."
"It's hard to believe how far we've come, Sully,"
she became philosophical. "When I think about the
different worlds we came from, to have found one
another and to love like this.... well, it's incredible."
"I remember how we both fought our feelin's," he
linked her fingers in his.
10
"But each time you looked at me, touched me...."
she hesitated. "It was as if you reached into my
soul. I still feel that."
"Me, too," he nodded. "I never met anyone in my
life more beautiful an' carin' than you. Once I knew
I loved ya, I never dreamed we could share a life
t'gether."
She was silent.
Sully felt a drop of moisture on his chest and knew
that his wife was crying. It broke his heart. He
hated to see Michaela cry. There had been times in
their lives when he had to force himself to let her
alone to work out her troubles through tears,
especially after the Washita Massacre.
Now there had been another. Another attack on
his Cheyenne brothers. Another government lie
and violation of treaties. He wondered if the
history books would ever tell the truth about what
had happened. He wondered, too, if his children
would even remember the Indians. Fighting back
his own tears, his breathing quickened in anger.
"Shhh," Michaela placed her hand over his heart.
"We're here. Safe in our world for the moment."
He pulled her hand to his lips, "I love you,
Michaela."
She lifted her head to gaze into his captivating
eyes, "I love you, too."
They kissed sweetly.
"I was thinking," she pondered. "It might be better
for me to stay in town with the children while
you're away. Until Brian and Matthew return from
Philadelphia, I'd prefer to stay at the Clinic."
"That's a good idea," he nodded. "I'm sure Robert E
can take care o' the animals here."
"And I'll read," she turned up the corner of her
mouth.
"Read?" he tilted his head.
"I'll read to help pass the lonely nights," she
replied.
"What ya gonna read?" he played along.
"Perhaps some of your poetry books," she smiled.
Pulling her nearer, he recited:
"If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers all your graces,
The age to come would say, 'This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly
faces.'"
"Who was that?" she asked.
"Don't ya wanna guess?' he was surprised.
"Not tonight," she answered.
"Shakespeare," he kissed her temple.
"I think I'll read some Shakespeare," she suggested.
"Romeo and Juliet might be nice."
"I don't much care for the endin'," he teased.
"I'll read up to the ending then," she retorted.
************
Dorothy ministered to Cloud Dancing in her bed.
She knew and trusted that Robert E would return
soon with Michaela and Sully. But until they came,
she was uncertain of what to do. She covered the
Cheyenne medicine man with several blankets and
gently cleaned the blood and mud from his face.
She studied his face, tenderly stroking his cheek.
His strong face, she smiled to herself.... his impish
grin when he joked or teased with his droll sense of
humor.... his brown eyes which gleamed when he
was happy. She hoped that she had helped him
11
find some happiness and love in this world of
hatred and bigotry.
She herself had been so ignorant and bigoted when
it came to the Cheyenne, and then she had written
the book about them. Cloud Dancing's book really.
She had merely been the one to chronicle the
story. How she admired this proud man. How she
feared for his safety since the moment she gave
her heart to him.
When would Michaela arrive, she thought as she
glanced toward her clock. Its ticking seemed to
highlight the slow passage of time.
************
Sully jumped when he heard the pounding on their
door. Robert E's voice called to them.
"Perhaps someone is sick," Michaela pulled on her
robe. "Or it could be for Mrs. Blake. Her baby is due
any day."
"I'll go check," he pulled on his buckskins and a
shirt.
Rushing past the nursery, he pulled the door shut
so the children would not be frightened by the
noise.
"Robert E? Grace?" Sully was surprised to see them
both. "What's wrong?"
Michaela reached the bottom step as their friends
entered the house, "Is it Mrs. Blake?"
"No," Robert E stated. "It's Cloud Dancin'."
"What about him?" Sully's heart nearly stopped.
"He's in town," the blacksmith said. "At the
Gazette. Dorothy sent me t' fetch Dr. Mike an' you.
He's hurt real bad."
"I came t' watch the children," Grace added.
"I'll get dressed," Michaela returned up the steps.
"Robert E," Sully tapped his arm. "Could ya help me
saddle the horses?"
"Sure," he followed him out the door.
************
"Dorothy," Cloud Dancing attempted to open his
eyes, one of which was swollen.
"I'm here," she clasped his hand. "Michaela's gonna
be here soon."
"I...." a tear trickled down his cheek. "I don't know
if I can hold on."
"Just hold my hand," she grasped it more firmly.
"I'll help ya."
************
Chapter 4
************
"I must tell you something before I die," Cloud
Dancing struggled to remain conscious.
"No, please," Dorothy did not want accept his
words. "Ya can't die. Ya can't."
"I have seen the death at Little Big Horn. Now I will
be with my people," his breathing was labored.
"There's people here who need ya, Cloud Dancin',"
she caressed his face. "Sully, Michaela, their
children.... Me. I need ya so much."
"I have enjoyed our friendship very much," his
voice was fading.
"Stay with me," she begged. "Michaela's gonna
help ya get better."
"She does not have medicine strong enough to heal
my heart," the Cheyenne shook his head slightly.
12
"Your heart?" she took his meaning literally. "Are
you injured there?"
He could not stay awake. Dorothy heard a
commotion and realized that Michaela and Sully
had arrived. Robert E, too, came in to see if he
could offer help.
"Cloud Dancing!" Michaela rushed to his side.
Sully stood back at the doorway to the bedroom
for a moment, uncertain what he should do.
Dorothy approached him, "Go to him."
The mountain man sat down on the side of the bed
and grasped his friend's hand. He began to speak in
Cheyenne as Michaela examined the wound to
Cloud Dancing's side.
"It appears to be from a bayonet," she assessed the
area. "It looks as if he tried to treat it himself."
"How'd he get here?" Robert E wondered.
"He spoke some, just before ya got here," Dorothy
informed them. "He was at the battle of Little Big
Horn. He... made his way here to say good-bye."
"Good-bye?" Sully looked up.
"He says it's time for him to be with his people,"
the redhead noted. "T' die."
"Michaela?" Sully hoped his friend was not
mortally wounded.
"I'll do what I can," she pulled out her stethoscope
from the medical bag. "I... I don't think we should
move him to the Clinic."
"I'll take care o' him," Dorothy assured her.
Michaela began to make a list, "Sully, I need these
from the Clinic."
When she completed it, he read over it, then
headed toward the door.
"Sully," Robert E stopped him. "Do ya think the
Army might come lookin' for him?"
"I don't know," he had not considered the
possibility. "I reckon we better keep his presence
here a secret."
"He's under the town's protection," Michaela
remembered their edict several years ago.
"Now he's under my protection," Sully stated
firmly. "I won't let anythin' happen t' him."
************
Katie rubbed her eyes and rose from her bed. She
stepped toward her brother's crib and saw that he
was still soundly sleeping. Reaching through the
railing posts, she pulled his blanket higher, then
decided to check to see if her parents were up.
She was pleased to see that the door to their
bedroom was open and that she would not have to
knock. Entering the room, she was surprised to
discover that they were not there. Then she
noticed that their bed was unmade. Katie found it
very unusual. And the house was quiet. She
returned to her bedroom and pulled on some
slippers, then checked Josef again.
"Maybe Mama an' Poppy are downstairs kissin',"
she smiled to herself.
She giggled thinking about how they liked to do
that when they didn't think she was watching.
Tentatively, she descended the steps.
"Miss Grace?" the little girl's eyes lit up.
"Mornin', child," Grace smiled.
"What ya doin' here?" Katie hugged her.
13
"Your Ma an' Pa asked me t' stay here with ya for a
spell," Grace replied.
"Where are they?" a hint of fear entered her voice.
"It's okay," Grace assured her. "They had t' go t'
town real early. They're fine."
"We cook somethin'?" Katie was satisfied that her
parents were all right.
"What would ya like?" Grace reached for some
plates.
"Meatloaf?" Katie requested.
"For breakfast?" the cafe owner chuckled. "You an'
your brother got the strangest appetites I ever
saw."
************
Michaela finished cleaning and dressing Cloud
Dancing's wounds. None were life threatening, but
she was concerned about his dehydrated and
exhausted state.
"It's imperative that we get him to drink water
when he wakens," she spoke low to Sully and
Dorothy.
"Will he be all right?" Dorothy's eyes reddened.
"I believe that his injuries will heal, but...." she
hesitated.
"But what?" Sully searched her face.
"His will to live seems to be gone," she looked
down. "What he saw, what he experienced must
have been horrific."
"Would it help t' get him t' talk about it?" Sully
speculated.
"It might," Michaela agreed. "He needs to know
that we're here for him. That we care about him.
That he's safe."
Sully's jaw tightened, "But he ain't safe."
"He's safer with us right now than he was at Little
Bighorn," Dorothy contributed.
************
"Robert E!" Katie saw his horse pulling up to the
homestead. Running to the door, she inquired as
soon as he opened it, "Ya see Mama an' Poppy?
"Sure did," he grinned. "They asked me t' bring ya
int' town."
"Good!" she hopped up and down. "We made
meatloaf."
"How's Cloud Dancin'?" Grace pulled her husband
aside.
"Not so good," he replied. "Dr. Mike's done all she
can, but...."
"Shhh," she saw Katie approach. "Okay, now. Let's
get this meatloaf ready t' take int' town."
************
Michaela continued to monitor Cloud Dancing's
condition throughout the day, but his spirit seemed
defeated. Along with Dorothy and Sully, she
languished over what they could do to in some way
restore his will to live.
Grace had occupied the Sully children, but by
dinnertime, having seen their parents only briefly
that morning, the little ones were anxious. Grace
decided to take them to the Gazette.
"Mama? Poppy?" Katie called from the office.
Sully swiftly entered from the room in which Cloud
Dancing lay, "Shhh, Kates."
14
"Papa!" Josef's eyes lit up.
Sully knelt down and hugged them, "Ya okay?"
"Where's Mama?" the little girl could not contain
her curiosity.
"She's takin' care o' Cloud Dancin'," he informed
her.
Her little brow wrinkled, "He sick?"
"'Fraid so," Sully's voice faltered.
"Where is he?" Katie sensed her father's upset.
"Back there," he gestured over his shoulder.
"Can I see him?" the child asked innocently.
"I don't know, Kates," Sully said.
"I think it would be a good idea," Michaela entered
the room.
"Mama!" both children ran to her.
Michaela hugged them and smiled, "Were you
good for Grace?"
"Sorta," Katie hedged.
"Sorta?" Sully raised an eyebrow.
"Joey break a plate," she revealed.
"Josef?" Michaela frowned at her son.
He nodded shyly and placed his finger in his mouth.
"Nothin' t' worry about," Grace smiled. "It was an
accident."
The little girl requested, "We see Cloud Dancin'
now?"
Sully glanced at his wife. She nodded.
"Gotta talk real low, Kates," Sully took Katie's hand
and lifted his son.
Michaela turned to her friend, "Thank you, Grace."
"I best be gettin' back t' the Cafe, Dr. Mike," she
touched her arm. "If ya need anythin', holler."
"I will," Michaela replied.
Sully escorted his children into the back room,
silently hoping that the little ones would cheer the
spirits of the Cheyenne medicine man.
************
"Matthew! Brian!" Horace greeted the train from
Denver. "Didn't think you boys would be home 'til
the end o' the week."
Matthew glanced toward town, "We got word
about what happened at Little Big Horn."
"We wanted t' come home right away," Brian
contributed. "We were worried about the
Cheyenne."
"Have folks here heard the news?" Matthew
wondered.
"Sully got a telegram yesterday," Horace nodded.
"He must be real worried 'bout Cloud Dancin',"
Brian sensed.
"I reckon so," the telegraph operator nodded.
"Wonderin' if he was at the battle," Matthew's
eyes saddened. "Wonderin' if he was he hurt."
"I figure he was there," Horace speculated.
"We best be gettin' home," Matthew lifted his
luggage.
"Saw your Ma an' Pa goin' int' the Gazette a while
ago," Horace pointed out.
15
"Let's get over there, Brian," Matthew tapped his
brother's arm. "Thanks, Horace."
************
Katie sat on the edge of the bed somewhat in awe
of her Cheyenne father. His eyes were closed.
"Can he hear me, Mama?" she turned to Michaela.
"I believe so," she encouraged.
Sully, with Josef in his arms, sat on the other edge
of the bed so that his son could watch.
"Cloud Dancin'," the little girl whispered. "It's me,
Katie. When ya gonna wake up?" She paused for a
reaction, then continued. "I missed ya when ya
went away. I like it when ya tell me stories."
Katie turned to her mother as if to ask if she could
continue. Michaela nodded.
"Joey's here, too," she placed her little hand on the
medicine man's arm. "He likes your stories, but he
don't understand everythin'."
Josef, emboldened by the mention of his name,
crawled from his father's lap and sat next to Cloud
Dancing. Leaning over, the little boy kissed the
Cheyenne's cheek.
"Up!" Josef commanded. "Play."
At the doorway, Dorothy struggled to contain her
tears, then heard someone enter the Gazette.
Turning, she recognized the two visitors, "Brian!
Matthew!"
Katie slipped from the bed and ran to greet her
brothers when they reached the entrance to the
sickroom. Hugs and kisses were exchanged among
the family, then the two young men turned their
attention to the scene before them.
"What happened?" Matthew wondered.
"It's so terrible," Dorothy's eyes were red. "He was
at Little Big Horn. Did you boys hear what
happened?"
"That's why we came home early," Matthew
nodded.
"Can we do anythin' t' help, Ma?" Brian swallowed
hard.
"Talk t' Cloud Dancin', Bran," Katie requested. "Joey
an' me tried t' wake him up."
In turn, both Brian and Matthew spoke softly to the
injured Cheyenne. And still, there was no response.
Finally, determining that they had done all that
they could, Sully and Michaela decided to spend
the evening with their children at the Clinic. Brian
and Matthew opted to stay at Matthew's law
office. All would be at Dorothy's call should there
be further developments with their friend.
************
Chapter 5
************
"Mornin', Dr. Kelly," Horace greeted the gray-
haired man. "Some newspapers come for ya."
"Thank you," he took the stack.
Brain heard the exchange and approached him,
"Are you a doctor?"
"Not a medical doctor," the twinkling eyes lit up.
"I'm a retired history professor."
"A history professor in Colorado Springs?" the
young man was pleased.
"I taught at the University of Denver until a few
weeks ago," he grinned. "I decided to settle here.
My name is Howard Kelly."
Brian extended his hand, "I'm Brian Cooper. I love
history, Dr. Kelly."
16
"That's a healthy love to have," he nodded.
"Think I could talk t' ya about it sometime?" Brian
asked.
"I would enjoy that," Kelly smiled.
"Sure got a lot o' newspapers there," the young
man pointed. "Could I help ya carry 'em?"
"Thank you," he agreed. "I subscribe to several
papers from around the country."
"I see ya got one here from New York, one from St.
Louis," Brian looked at the headings of the front
pages.
"Indeed," he acknowledged.
"They all got big stories 'bout the massacre at Little
Big Horn," the young man noticed.
"I'm eager to read about it," the professor stated.
"I was going over to Grace's Cafe. Would you like to
join me?"
"I sure would," Brian grinned. "Thanks."
************
"No change," Michaela felt Cloud Dancing's pulse.
"He moved very little during the night," Dorothy
informed her. "What can we do, Michaela?"
"I'm afraid I'm at a loss," she looked down.
Sully stepped closer, "His spirit has already gone t'
be with his grandfathers."
"No!" Dorothy refused to listen. "As long as he's
still alive, we can't give up."
"I don't wanna give up, Dorothy," Sully's expression
was pained.
"Sully," Michaela took her husband's hand. "Why
don't we go for a little walk? The children will be all
right with Grace for a bit longer."
He sighed, "Okay."
Dorothy sat down beside the Cheyenne medicine
man after they departed. She lifted his hand to her
cheek and felt her tears begin anew.
************
Out of sight from the town, Michaela and Sully
strolled along the bank of a stream. Finally, they
stopped and sat down. Neither had spoken since
they left Cloud Dancing.
Michaela reached out and lifted a lock of hair from
her husband's face. He turned to look at her. His
was an expression of anguish. Without words, she
pulled him into her arms and kissed his temple.
Sully buried his face in her neck, no longer holding
back his tears.
She had sensed his need to release his pain, and
she tenderly stroked his hair as his emotions burst
forth. Only alone with his wife, would Sully allow
himself to grieve for what had and might still
happen. Finally, after several minutes, he regained
his composure. She pulled a handkerchief from her
pocket and lovingly touched the moisture on his
cheeks. Then, cupping his face in her hands, she
gently kissed him.
************
Katie and Josef saw Brian seated at a table at the
Cafe, and Grace brought them over to him. Brian
pulled Josef onto his lap and helped Katie sit at one
of the chairs. Grace took their orders, then left.
"This is my little sister, Katie," Brian told the
professor. "An' this is my brother Josef."
"Pleased to meet you both," the academian
winked.
17
"This is Dr. Kelly," he introduced the professor.
"Ya gonna help Cloud Dancin' get better?" Katie
asked.
"Pardon me?" the older man was curious.
"She thinks you're a medical doctor," Brian
chuckled. "Katie, Dr. Kelly knows all about history."
"Ya do?" her eyes lit up. "What's history?"
Grace returned with their refreshments, "Coffee
for the professor, lemonade for Brian an' Katie...."
Then she glanced at the little boy on Brian's lap.
"An' what ya think I brought you?"
"Pokle!" Josef reached up with his tiny hands.
"Right!" Grace grinned. "Anythin' else for ya?"
"No, thanks," Brian replied.
As Grace departed, the professor returned to
Katie's question, "History is the study of things that
happened in the past."
"Why ya wanna study that?" the little girl was
fascinated.
"Do you ever wonder what things were like before
you were born?" he leaned closer. "Where your
mother and father came from?"
"Yep," she nodded. "Mama an' Poppy tell me, too."
"That's part of your family's history," Kelly took a
sip of coffee. "I study the family history of our
country.... of the world."
"That's a lot o' people," her brown eyes shone with
wonder.
************
Sully leaned back and rested his head in his wife's
lap, "When I didn't wanna go on livin', Cloud
Dancin' brought me back from the darkness."
She ran her fingers through his hair, "And I'm
eternally grateful for that."
He lifted up to look in her eyes, "The love of a
woman makes a man wanna live."
"Dorothy loves Cloud Dancing," she said.
"He's closed his heart t' love now," Sully
speculated. "He's seen somethin' so terrible...."
"Would a sweat lodge help?" Michaela wondered.
"It might," he warmed to the idea. "Is he well
enough t' travel?"
"I believe so," she answered. "We would not have
to take him far."
"Later t'day be okay?" Sully inquired.
"Yes," she nodded.
He closed his eyes and leaned back again, only to
be roused by his wife's lips on his. He continued
their kiss as he sat up and guided her back against
the soft leaves. Initially, their contact was light and
soft. Then, as their bodies began to react to the
nearness of one another, they became more
urgent and hungry.
"Sully," she broke it off breathlessly. "Out here?"
"You started it," he teased.
"I did?" she turned up the corner of her mouth in a
grin.
"Ya kissed me," he ran his finger along her chin.
"And that....." she stopped when he spoke.
"I love you, Michaela," his eyes burned with need.
"I love you, too," she could not resist him.
Slowly, he undid the buttons of her blouse and
trailed kisses across her chest. Michaela could not
18
contain her excitement at his touch. Sully's
caresses made her tingle with desire. Then
Michaela encouraged him onto his back. As she
opened his shirt and lightly kissed his chest, he
leaned his head back and closed his eyes,
transported by her ministrations.
Finally, she positioned herself along his form, eager
for their joining. With the enthusiasm that they
both relished, they shared their love. Flesh against
flesh, they clung to one another, rhythmically
taking and giving to the other.
With his beloved tucked against him, Sully stroked
her back and whispered:
"Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake.
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou,
And slip into my bosom and be lost in me."
"I am lost in you," she confessed. "Hopelessly,
totally, unconditionally."
He kissed her again, "Don't know what I'd ever do
without you, Michaela."
"Nor I without you," she murmured. "Was that
from Shakespeare?"
"Tennyson," he kissed her again.
************
From her seat at the Cafe, Katie spotted her
parent's arrival, "Mama!" Lifted into her mother's
embrace, the child queried, "Why ya got leaves in
your hair?"
Michaela blushed, "Oh... ah, your father and I took
a little walk and... uh."
"You know how it is in the woods, Kates," Sully
kissed his daughter's cheek. "There's leaves an'
branches, an...."
"Ya kissin'?" Katie whispered in her mother's ear.
"Katie!" Michaela became embarrassed.
"Ma, Pa," Brian beckoned.
They approached their sons. Josef reached up to
greet his parents and ended up tucked in his
father's embrace.
"I want ya t' meet Dr. Howard Kelly," Brian said.
"He's a retired professor o' history from Denver.
This here's my Ma, Dr. Michaela Quinn an' my pa,
Byron Sully."
"It's a pleasure, sir," Michaela extended her hand.
"Your son has been telling me about you," the
professor smiled. "He speaks with great admiration
of you both."
"What brings ya t' Colorado Springs?" Sully shook
his hand.
"The beauty of these surroundings," he took a deep
breath. "I've decided to make this my home. I
bought the Murdoch place."
"I discern a Boston accent," Michaela noted.
"I discern the same of you, Madam," he smiled. "I
taught for a number of years at Harvard."
"I'm originally from Boston," Michaela
acknowledged. "I practiced medicine there with my
father until his death."
"Quinn," he rubbed his chin. "You go by your
maiden name?"
"Yes," she stated.
"Was your father, by chance, Dr. Josef Quinn?" he
speculated.
Michaela's eyes lit up, "Why, yes. Did you know
him?"
19
"Only by reputation," Kelly smiled. "A man of great
integrity."
"Thank you," she was moved. "You must join us for
dinner some time."
"It would be my pleasure," he nodded. "If you'll
excuse me now, I'm feeling a bit tired. It's time for
my nap."
Sully kissed his son's cheek, "Same for these two."
As the older man left them, Brian pointed out, "He
gets newspapers from all over the country. That
stack he's carryin' has stories about Little Big
Horn."
Suddenly they were brought back to the reality of
their friend's health.
"Brian," Michaela said. "I want to hear all about
your trip to Philadelphia and your visit with Colleen
as soon as possible, but first Sully and I need to
help Cloud Dancing."
"We're gonna try a sweat lodge," Sully touched
Brain's back. "Think you an' Matthew could watch
the children while we take Cloud Dancin' there?"
"Sure," the young man agreed.
"Let's get him ready then," Sully escorted his family
toward the Gazette. "Dorothy should come with
us."
"I agree," Michaela said.
************
Chapter 6
************
Sully spent most of the afternoon preparing the
sweat lodge. They wrapped Cloud Dancing in
blankets to hide his identity. Then, with Robert E's
assistance, he carried the medicine man to the
wagon through the rear door of the Clinic. Dorothy
sat in the back of the buckboard with him, and
Michaela joined her husband on the seat.
They arrived at the site Sully had chosen. He
explained to Dorothy what would happen in the
ceremony. Clad in only blankets, they sat in the
steaming heat of the lodge. Sully chanted and
sprinkled herbs on the fire. Each took a turn
conveying to Cloud Dancing what he meant to
them. Then, they waited.
Finally, the medicine man opened his eyes, "My
friends."
Michaela immediately urged him to drink some
water before talking. His lips parched, his vision
blurred, and his side aching, he managed to comply
with her wishes.
"Good t' see ya," Sully touched his friend's arm.
"It is good to see all of you," his voice was weak.
"The Spirits have heard your prayers. They have
told me I must return."
"Return?" Michaela was uncertain of his meaning.
"Return to you," the medicine man said. "I am to
tell the truth of what happened."
"The first thing ya have t' do is get well," Dorothy
felt a tear on her cheek.
"This I shall do," Cloud Dancing nodded. "Then I will
tell of the story of Little Big Horn."
************
In a cloud of dust, a troop of Army cavalry arrived
in Colorado Springs. Most of the townsfolk
gathered in the street, curious about their arrival.
One of the soldiers dismounted and approached
Hank.
"Do you have a sheriff or law enforcement officer
here?" the young man asked.
20
"You're lookin' at the enforcer," Hank tapped the
gun strapped to his hip.
"I'm the mayor," Jake spoke up. "What's goin' on?"
"We got orders t' round up any Indians in the
territory an' take 'em t' one o' the reservations,"
the military man replied.
"Ain't no Indians here," Matthew spoke up.
The soldier studied the faces around him, "If
anyone's hidin' Indians or withholdin' information, I
got orders t' place 'em under arrest."
"What if the Injun has papers allowin' him t' be
here?" Jake wondered.
"General Sheridan has issued my orders," the man
responded. "Those orders say all Indians."
There was silence.
"We'll be makin' camp in that field for the night,"
the soldier gestured toward the meadow by the
church. "Anyone who wants t' turn in a red man
can see us there."
The soldiers turned and retreated across the
bridge.
"Anyone here see Cloud Dancin' lately?" Hank
asked.
Those who knew that the medicine man had
returned held their silence.
"Better not be holdin' back," the bartender
cautioned. "Ain't worth goin' t' jail t' protect him."
************
"Matthew," Robert E pulled the young man aside.
"Ya know where Sully took him?"
"I do," he answered.
The blacksmith kept his voice low, "Better get out
there an' warn 'em not t' bring Cloud Dancin' back
t' town."
Unseen by them, Hank had been watching their
exchange. When he saw Matthew mount his horse
and take off, he decided to follow.
************
"We gonna stay at the Clinic again t'night?" Katie
asked her brother.
"I'm not sure," Brian rocked Josef in the chair.
"Have t' see what Ma an' Pa say."
"Bran, can ya tell me 'bout history?" the child sat at
her table.
"Like what?" he chuckled.
She shrugged, "I don't know. Tell me history story."
"Well," he pondered her request. "Long time ago,
far away across the ocean there was an empire
ruled by the Romans."
"They lost?" she innocently asked.
"Why'd ya ask that?" he was puzzled.
"Ya said they were roamin'," she replied.
"No," he laughed. "Their capital was in Rome, an'
they were called Romans."
************
"Sully!" Matthew's voice could be heard outside
the sweat lodge.
The mountain man rose and looked out through
the opening, "Come on in."
The young man dismounted and was pleased to
see their Cheyenne friend had regained
consciousness, "Cloud Dancin', it's good t' see ya."
21
"And you, my friend," he replied.
"Is something wrong with one of the children?"
Michaela wondered why her son had come.
"No, it's the Army," Matthew informed them.
"They're camped in town, lookin' t' round up
Indians. Said they'll arrest anyone they catch hidin'
'em."
"Then we gotta....." Sully suddenly stopped, having
heard another horse approach. "Quick, Dorothy,
Cloud Dancin', under there."
Swiftly, the duo was hidden beneath a buffalo hide.
"Sully, what are we...." Michaela fell silent when
her husband raised his finger to his lips.
"I'll see who it is," Matthew exited.
"What ya doin' out here, Matthew?" Hank asked.
"Come t' see Ma an' Sully," he responded.
Hank dismounted, "What the hell's goin' on?"
Matthew tried to remain calm, "Don't know what
ya mean."
"In there," Hank pointed to the sweat lodge. "Ya
hidin' someone?"
Sully slipped out through the opening of the lodge,
"What brings ya out here, Hank?"
"I followed Matthew," the bartender replied,
suspicious at the sight of Sully with only with a
blanket around his waist. "Why ya half dressed?
What kinda Injun games ya playin' in there?"
"No Indian games," Sully answered.
"Yea?" Hank approached the opening. "I'll be the
judge of that."
When he stuck his head inside, he saw Michaela,
clad only in a blanket.
Ogling her, a grin appeared on Hank's face, "Well,
well. What have we here?"
"Hank," Michaela nervously pulled her blanket
higher.
Sully quickly led him to a conclusion, "Can't a man
an' his wife have a little privacy?"
"Sure," Hank tilted his head. "Ain't this cozy."
"Yep," Sully patted his back. "Now, if you'll excuse
us. Michaela an' me got.... business t' attend to."
"Why'd Matthew interrupt ya?" Hank was still
curious.
The young man had now concluded that Hank had
seen him speaking with Robert E before riding out
to his parents, "Robert E told me he an' Grace
couldn't watch the children t'night. I just wanted t'
let 'em know."
"Uh, thank you, Matthew," Michaela was regaining
her composure. "We'll return to town shortly."
"Yea, well...." Hank laughed. "I reckon I got a
business t' run. You two kids have fun."
"Oh, we will," Sully grinned.
Hank was soon gone.
"Think he believes ya?" Matthew put his hands on
his hips.
Michaela was embarrassed, "I'm not sure I like
having him assume....."
Dorothy poked her head out from under the hide,
"Awful warm under here."
"Sorry, Dorothy," Sully pulled back the cover.
"Michaela, I want ya t' get back t' town an' fetch
the kids. Take 'em home. Dorothy, ya better take
Matthew's horse, an' get back t' town, too. When
22
it's dark, Michaela can bring the buckboard back
for Cloud Dancin', Matthew an' me."
"Where can we take Cloud Dancing?" Michaela was
uncertain.
"The homestead," Matthew responded. "It ain't
safe in town."
"That could be dangerous if someone gets wind o'
it," Sully shook his head.
"The cave," Michaela offered. "Where you hid from
the Army, Sully."
"Do ya mind, Cloud Dancin'?" he turned to his
friend.
"I am not in a position to complain," the Cheyenne
smiled faintly. "The cave will be good."
"We gotta be careful t' make sure we ain't followed
comin' an' goin' from town," Sully cautioned. "An'
the fewer people who know he's here, the better."
"I'll tell folks that I'm goin' t' Denver," Dorothy said.
"That way, I can tend t' Cloud Dancin' at the cave."
"Okay, then," Sully nodded. "Better get goin'."
************
A man pulled up to the Gold Nugget, tired and
dusty from riding all day. He slid from his horse and
looked around as dusk descended on the town. He
rubbed his throbbing leg, then stepped into the
saloon.
"What can I get ya?" Hank spotted him at the bar.
"A bottle of your finest whiskey, and a glass," the
man replied.
"Look like ya been ridin' a spell," Hank observed his
appearance.
With raven hair and eyes to match, the man in his
late thirties wiped his parched mouth, "Mine, and
most of our fortunes, tonight, shall be drunk to
bed."
"Huh?" Hank stopped pouring.
"William Shakespeare," the stranger cited the
author.
"You an' 'Will' need a room, too?" Hank joked.
"Just I," the stranger replied.
"Need some companionship?" Hank nodded
toward some of his prostitutes.
The man refilled his own glass, "'Company,
villainous company, hath been the spoil of me.'"
"That Shakespeare, too?" Hank was catching on.
"Indeed," the dark eyes of the stranger gleamed.
"Ever speak for yourself?" the bartender joked.
"The Bard's eloquence is difficult to surpass," he
replied.
"My name's Hank Lawson," the saloon keeper
stated. "Need t' know your name for my hotel
records."
"St. Helen," the man replied. "John St. Helen."
"Dollar a night," Hank informed him. "More if ya
want one o' my girls."
Taking his bottle and glass, "Tonight, I wish to
sleep. 'To sleep, perchance to dream.'"
"That you or Shakespeare talkin'?" Hank stepped
out from behind the bar. "Come on, I'll show ya
your room."
23
************
Chapter 7
************
Sully awoke from a dream and tried to calm
himself. The images were so vivid. He glanced at
Michaela, then rose from the bed. Walking to the
basin, he splashed some water on his face to clear
his head. He had dreamed about Cloud Dancing in
the cave. The Army found out about him,
surrounded it, and opened fire. Wiping the water
from his face, he took a deep breath.
"Sully?" Michaela heard him.
"Just washin' my face," he spoke low. "Go back to
sleep."
She raised up on her elbow, "What time is it?"
"After midnight," he replied as he climbed back
into bed.
She spooned herself against his warm body, "Cloud
Dancing is going to be fine, Sully."
"Physically, I believe that," he rubbed her arm. "I
ain't so sure about his state of mind."
"We'll go to him tomorrow," she kissed his hand.
"He needs to talk about what happened."
"Maybe I should've stayed with him in the cave,"
Sully had second thoughts.
"Matthew's with him," she reminded him. "He
wants you to be careful with the Army in town.
They may be watching you."
"I know," he sighed.
She changed the subject, "I can only imagine what
Hank must have thought about us in the sweat
lodge."
He grinned, "Do you really care what he thinks?"
"Well, he's bound to tell others in town what he
saw," she thought.
"So?" he kissed the tender skin behind her ear.
"Folks know what we feel for each other."
"We were hardly dressed!" she said.
He ran his hand along her waist, "It was worth it t'
have him think we were bein' t'gether out there
rather than have him learn the truth."
"I know," she nodded.
"Don't worry 'bout your reputation," he teased.
"It's safe with me."
"I'm glad I'm in good hands," she smiled.
He pulled her closer, "Always."
************
"Brought ya breakfast," Sully entered the cave.
"Thank you, my friend," Cloud Dancing sat up.
Michaela followed her husband, "I'm happy to see
you have an appetite."
"I best be gettin' back t' town," Matthew donned
his hat. "I'll keep an eye on things."
"Thank you, Matthew," Cloud Dancing smiled.
"You're welcome, he smiled. "Take care."
Michaela checked the Cheyenne medicine man's
injuries, "Your wound is healing nicely."
"Someone's comin'," Sully suddenly drew his
tomahawk. He rushed to the entrance and peeked
out. "It's Dorothy."
Sully met her at the entrance and to insure that she
had not been followed.
24
Dorothy told him, "The Army's camped out in the
meadow by the church."
"Any idea how long they intend t' stay?" Sully put
away his weapon.
"No," she shook her head. "I told Loren I was goin'
t' Denver for a few days, so I can stay here now."
"Remember t' keep your horse hidden," Sully
cautioned. "We'll supply ya with food."
"All right," she brushed back a lock of her red
tresses.
"I was thinkin'," Sully suggested. "Maybe you could
write that friend o' yours, Charles Stoddard, an' see
if somethin' could be done t' protect Cloud
Dancin'."
"Marjorie's Uncle?" Dorothy said. "But he doesn't
work for Sheridan anymore."
"They're friends," Sully responded. "Nothin' t' lose
by tryin'."
"You're right," she nodded. "I'll do it."
They entered the cave as Michaela concluded her
examination of their friend.
"Cloud Dancing," Michaela touched his arm. "Do
you want to talk about what happened to you?"
He was silent for several moments as his eyes
welled up with tears. Michaela felt guilty for her
question until the medicine man finally spoke.
"I am ready to tell what happened," he spoke
surely.
************
"Dr. Kelly!" Brian saw the professor at the Cafe.
"Good morning, Brian," Kelly smiled.
"Did ya get a chance t' read those newspapers?"
the young man asked.
"I did," he nodded. "Won't you join me?"
"Thanks," the young man sat down.
"What did ya find out?" Brian inquired.
"I thought you might glean much from this one," he
handed Brian a newspaper.
The young man read aloud, "The Bismarck Tribune.
Says here in the headlines:
Massacred. General Custer and 261 Men the
Victims. No officer or Man of 5 Companies Left. 3
Days Desperate Fighting by Maj. Reno and the
Remainder of the Seventh. Full Details of the
Battle. List of Killed and Wounded. The Bismarck's
Special Correspondent Killed. Squaws Mutilate and
Rob the Dead. Victims Captured Alive. Tortured in
Most Fiendish Manner. What Will Congress Do
About It? Shall This Be The Beginning of the End?"
The professor began to fill in the background,
"Custer left the Rosebud on June 22 with twelve
companies of the Seventh Cavalry and headed in
the direction of Little Big Horn. On the evening of
the 24th, fresh trails were reported, and on the
morning of the 25th, an Indian village, twenty miles
above the mouth of the Little Horn was reported
about three miles long and half a mile wide. It was
less than 15 miles away."
************
Cloud Dancing sipped some tea, then began his
description, "On the night before the attack by
Custer, Sitting Bull went to a ridge overlooking our
camp. He made offerings to the Creator and prayed
for his people in these words, 'Wakantanka, pity
me. I offer you this peace-pipe. Wherever the sun,
the moon, the earth, the four points of the wind,
there you are always. Father, save us, I beg you.
We want to live. Guard us against all misfortune.
Pity me.'"
25
He paused. Sully put his hand on the medicine
man's back for encouragement.
Then Cloud Dancing went on, "The day of the
battle was sunny and hot. About forty of our
warriors spotted Custer's men. They raced back to
the village to warn us. The people of the village
were spending the afternoon quietly. Women were
bathing in the river, children playing in the water.
Then came the alarm that soldiers were coming.
We heard the shooting. I took the children to hide
in the bushes."
"Thank God you did," Dorothy clasped his hand.
Cloud Dancing went on, "From my vantage point, I
could see the Army cross the river and form a
skirmish line. They began firing at the edge of our
village. It seemed strange that there were so few of
them. Our warriors soon outnumbered them."
"Why would such a small force attack a large
village?" Michaela wondered.
"I believe that they were expecting
reinforcements," the medicine man replied. Then
his face took on an expression of pain, "A Lakota
bullet struck the head of Bloody Knife, one of the
Army scouts, splattering his brains over the Army
commander's face. The commander then ordered
his troops to fall back to the grove of
cottonwoods."
"How terrible," Michaela's stomach become
queasy.
"I moved the children to a different hiding place,
but then another attack came," Cloud Dancing said.
"The sounds of the shooting multiplied. Women
and children were screaming. Old men were calling
the warriors to fight. Young men were singing their
war songs. We heard the sounds of the battle
change from place to place. Then it seemed the
Army was in retreat with our warriors following
them, shooting, and beating them."
All were silent in the cave, riveted by the story.
************
Two soldiers entered the Gold Nugget and
approached the bar. Matthew followed them in
and stood nearby drinking a cup of coffee as he
listened.
"What can I get you fellers?" Hank smiled.
"Beers," The taller of them spoke up.
"So, did ya find any Injuns?" the bartender poured.
"No, but I lost some friends at Little Big Horn," the
other young man replied.
"That so?" Hank rubbed his chin. "I hear Custer got
it there."
"He deserved it," the taller of the two said bitterly.
St. Helen came down the stairs and crossed to the
bar, "So wise, so young, they say, do never live
long."
"Huh?" the tall soldier was clueless.
"Thinks he's Shakespeare," Hank pointed.
"What is your name, my good man?" St. Helen
asked.
The tall soldier replied, "Carpenter. This here's
Whitehorn."
"Carpenter and Whitehorn," St. Helen repeated the
names with dramatic flare. "Please continue with
your fascinating story of Custer and his men."
Whitehorn picked up, "We was with Colonel
Gibbon. Got t' Little Big Horn on the 27th."
"Must have been a gory sight," Hank took a drink.
"I found Custer's brother, Tom," Carpenter said.
"He'd been scalped, his abdomen cut open, an' his
face so damaged, no one knew who he was."
26
"How'd ya know it was Tom Custer then?" Hank
rubbed his beard.
"He had a tattoo," Carpenter detailed. "The
goddess of liberty, a flag an' the initials T. W. C. "
"We buried him beside his brother George,"
Whitehorn nodded.
"It weren't no burial, really," Carpenter shook his
head. "We just scraped dirt over the bodies from
both sides. We weren't equipped t' bury all them
men."
"Why do you speak so ill of Custer... that he
deserved to die?" St. Helen was puzzled.
************
"Cloud Dancing," Michaela touched his arm. "This
can wait, if you prefer."
"No," he resolved. "I must speak of what
happened. Our warriors swept after the Army,
causing a retreat toward the summit of a long, high
ridge. I could see the legs of the men and the
horses tremble as they staggered onward. I do not
know if it was from fatigue or from terror."
"Prob'ly both," Sully reached for his wife's hand.
"One of the warriors, Low Dog, called to his men,
'This is a good day to die; follow me,'" Cloud
Dancing recalled. "At this, our men massed and
rushed at the Army."
************
"Dr. Kelly," Brian was curious. "Why did Custer
attack such a large village?"
"That is a question that may be debated through
the ages, Brian," the professor surmised. "When
Custer neared the village, he discovered that the
Indians were moving in hot haste as if retreating.
Custer pushed his command rapidly through. The
men had marched 78 miles in the previous 24
hours. Reno was ordered to take three companies
of the 7th Cavalry and attack the village at its head,
while Custer with five companies went to the right
to commence a vigorous attack."
"It must have been a slaughter," Brian's eyes
widened.
The professor continued, "Reno was almost
instantly surrounded and within an hour had lost
many men. He cut his way through to the river and
gained a bluff 300 feet in height, where he
entrenched and was soon joined by Captain
Benteen with three companies. In the meantime,
the Indians resumed the attack. They made
desperate charges and were repulsed by the Army
with great loss of life. But then the Indians gained
higher ground and with their superior weapons
were able to keep up a galling fire until nightfall."
************
In the Gold Nugget, the soldiers continued to
drown their troubles in ale, as they poured out
their hearts with the tragic story of Little Big Horn.
"Custer disobeyed a written command from Terry,"
Whitehorn stated. "He was told t' wait until Gibbon
was in position upstream before he moved. As it
was, he put Reno smack dab in the middle of hell."
"Reno's men were outnumbered ten t' one,"
Carpenter was beginning to slur. "They'd been
without water for 36 hours. One commander
decided to lead his men t' the river at all costs."
Whitehorn added, "Even though the Indian
sharpshooters were waitin', they got through and
were able t' bring back water t' Reno's men."
"What about Custer?" Matthew held his silence no
more.
"It had been forty-eight hours of fighting for Reno's
men, with no word from Custer," Carpenter spit
out the words. "General Terry an' our men under
Gibbon arrived, an' I never did see grown men cry
27
like them boys under Reno's command. They was
so glad t' see us. The Indians finally stopped the
attack an' deserted the village. Then we went t'
look for Custer."
"Only one o' his men, a Crow scout lived t' tell what
happened," Whitehorn informed the interested
crowd that had gathered. "All the rest o' Custer's
men died. They had been surrounded on every side
by Indians. Men an' horses lyin' everywhere. The
bodies were stripped, except for a newspaper
correspondent. Most o' them had been mutilated,
like Tom Custer, but not George. No, sir. He'd been
shot through the body an' head, but they left them
long locks on him."
The barroom was silent.
************
"I'm so thankful you were spared," Dorothy wiped
Cloud Dancing's brow.
The medicine man went on with his account,
"Scattered along the slope, Custer and his men
dismounted and tried to defend themselves by
firing into our warriors. But one by one, his men
were wiped out. His soldiers would dismount to
fire their guns. They held onto their horses with
one hand while they were shooting, but the horses
were so frightened, they pulled the men all around
and caused the shots to go up into the air."
"How were you injured?" Michaela questioned.
"One of our warriors began calling out that all of
the soldiers were dead," he swallowed hard. "I
went to the battlefield to tend to the wounded
among our men. As I did, an injured soldier lifted
his bayonet and lunged for me."
"My God," Dorothy covered her mouth.
"One of our warriors grabbed the soldier and
began to pound on him with his fists," Cloud
Dancing recounted. "The soldier lifted up in a rage
and tried to bite off his nose, but the warrior
knocked him over, shot him in the head, then in
the heart."
Sully glanced at his wife and saw tears streaming
down her face. He gently rubbed his thumb along
the top of her hand.
Cloud Dancing was spent from his description, but
he was not finished, "The women went onto the
battlefield and began to cut off the arms or legs of
the soldiers who were not yet dead."
Sully felt his wife's body tense.
"What about Custer?" Dorothy had recalled with
great disdain their encounters with him.
Cloud Dancing's jaw clenched, "Two Cheyenne
women found Custer. They pushed the point of an
awl into each of his ears, into his head. They said
this was done to improve his hearing, as it seemed
he had not heard what our chiefs in the South had
said when they smoked a peace pipe with him.
They told him then that if ever afterward he should
break that peace promise and should fight the
Cheyenne, the Everywhere Spirit surely would
cause him to be killed."
All in the cave fell silent.
************
Chapter 8
************
Dinner at the Sully homestead was a somber affair.
Other than the youngest children, each of them
had been touched that day by the graphic
descriptions of what had transpired at Little Big
Horn. Sully sensed that Matthew and Brian needed
to talk about it, but he did not wish for Michaela to
again endure the horrific account.
"Michaela," Sully placed his hands on her shoulders
as she began to wash the dishes. "Why don't ya go
on upstairs with the children? I'll clean up here."
28
"No," she continued to wash, not looking up. "I
want to get these put away."
"Hey," he gently turned her to face him. "I think
the boys need t' talk about what they heard t'day,
an' it wouldn't be good for Katie an' Josef t' hear.
I.... I ain't so sure it'd be good for you either."
"I'm fine.... really," she returned to the dishes.
Sully recognized her habit of throwing herself into
busy work when she was upset, "Michaela."
"What!" her voice rose. Then her eyes welled up,
"I'm sorry, Sully. I didn't mean to...."
He could barely discern her next words as her voice
quivered from crying. Sully encircled her in his arms
as she buried her face against his chest. Tenderly,
he stroked the back of her head.
Then, finally composing herself, she looked up at
him, "You might have been there, Sully. You could
have been at Little Big Horn had you left when you
originally...."
Again her tears flowed.
"Mama?" Katie stood at the edge of the kitchen
fireplace.
As quickly as she could, Michaela tried to calm
herself, "Yes, Sweetheart."
"Why ya cryin'?" the little girl was frightened.
Sully wiped his wife's tears, "Mama heard some
sad news t'day, sweet girl."
Katie approached and tentatively reached out to
touch her mother's hand, "I sad, too."
Michaela lifted her up, "Why are you sad, Katie?"
"I sad when you sad," the child answered.
Sully pulled both of them into his arms, "How 'bout
you two take Josef up an' get him ready for bed?"
"I help ya, Mama," Katie touched her mother's
moist cheek.
"I love you, Katie," Michaela kissed her. "I love you
so much."
The little girl hugged her, "I love you, too. Let's put
Joey t' bed."
Sully nodded in agreement, and Michaela
acquiesced.
"Josef," she called out for her son.
They heard the scurry of his little footsteps. Then
he appeared at the same spot by the fireplace that
his sister had vacated. Wolf was by his side.
"Time for bed, big boy," Sully leaned over.
"No!" Josef giggled and ran from the room.
Michaela set her daughter down, "Josef Michael
Sully."
Josef stopped dead in his tracks when his mother
used that tone. He pivoted around and contritely
approached Michaela.
"Bedtime, young man," she calmly stated.
"Play?" he countered.
"No," she shook her head and extended her arms.
The little boy rushed to her and as she lifted him
up, he hugged her. Michaela tenderly touched his
head to her cheek.
"Oh, Sully, we're so lucky," her voice choked.
"I know," his eyes were watering.
"Come on, Joey," Katie tugged at her brother's leg.
"We say 'night t' Bran an' Mattew."
29
He squirmed in his mother's arms, and she
carefully put him down to go with his sister.
Michaela turned again to Sully and with her
expression, told of her love for him.
"I'll be up in a little bit," he kissed her.
Michaela bid good night to her older sons and took
the two younger children upstairs. Sully
approached Matthew and Brian, each of whom sat
in a wing back chair.
"Here, Pa," Brian began to stand. "You can sit
here."
"No," Sully plopped before the fireplace and folded
his legs. "I'm comfortable here."
"What did Cloud Dancin' tell ya about Little Big
Horn, Sully?" Matthew broached the subject.
As he began to describe the events as seen through
the eyes of the Cheyenne medicine man, Brian and
Matthew contributed what they had heard from
the newspaper accounts and from the soldiers who
had come upon the scene. The differing viewpoints
disturbed them.
"Which version do ya think the history books will
write about?" Brian put the question to them.
"Which do you think?" Sully's response was almost
sarcastic.
"It ain't fair, Pa," Brian shifted in the chair.
"History's only gonna call Custer a hero who died
servin' his country."
"Too bad there's no one t' tell the story in the
language of the heart," Sully turned to stoke the
fire.
"Language of the heart?" Brian was puzzled.
"The language of someone who was there and felt
the pain of watchin' his people be destroyed," Sully
clarified.
"Maybe there is someone," Matthew offered.
"Who?" Brian wondered.
"Miss Dorothy," the older brother responded.
"She's already a published author. She could write
a book about Cloud Dancin's version. Maybe even
interview other Indians."
"Who's gonna read it?" Sully turned to look him in
the eye.
"Maybe not many people right now," Brian
considered it. "But someday, folks might want
more than one version o' the story. Dr. Kelly says
that primary sources are real valuable in the study
o' history."
"Primary sources?" Sully tilted his head.
"Eyewitness accounts," Brian clarified. "Miss
Dorothy's book could be like that, tellin' future
generations the Indian's version o' the story."
"260 fallen men of the Seventh Cavalry an' George
Armstrong Custer," Sully clenched his fist. "That's
all history will wanna remember. No one will
bother t' count the Indians they killed."
"From what I hear, Custer disobeyed orders,"
Matthew said. "Don't sound like he'll be a martyr t'
me."
"I wouldn't put it past the government t'
conveniently forget those orders," Sully stated.
"Just like they forgot all the treaties they ever
signed."
************
"Mama," Katie rubbed her mother's hand as she lay
in bed.
Michaela cradled her sleeping son, "Yes?"
"Tell me why ya sad," the little girl requested.
"Poppy say it helps t' talk."
30
"Your Daddy's right," Michaela smiled. "I'm sad
because.... sometimes things happen that hurt
people."
"Like when I fall tryin' t' get on Flash?" she
remembered her injury.
Michaela tenderly brushed her hand across her
daughter's cheek, "Yes, something like that."
"Maybe if ya talk t' Poppy, it'll help you, too," Katie
contemplated.
"I think you're right," the mother lifted her sleeping
son.
With loving care, she placed the baby in his crib,
and stroked his auburn curls.
Then she returned to her daughter, "Say your
prayers now."
Katie obeyed, adding at the end a request, "Please
help my Mama an' all the people t' not be sad."
"Thank you, Sweetheart," Michaela kissed her.
Katie raised her finger for an added comment, "An'
God, please make Joey stop eatin' so many
pickles."
Michaela covered her mouth to prevent her
daughter from seeing her smile.
************
"Loren, Jake," Hank motioned toward St. Helen.
"See that feller?"
Jake sipped a sarsaparilla at the bar, "Yea, what
about him?"
"Thinks he's Shakespeare," Hank blew a ring of
smoke from his cigar.
"Shakespeare, the writer?" Loren chuckled.
"No, Shakespeare the cowboy," Hank rolled his
eyes. "Whatever ya say, he's got some line from
Shakespeare spewin' forth outa his mouth."
"Let's see," Jake wanted a good laugh. "Call him
over."
"Hey, St. Helen!" the bartender summoned. "Got a
couple o' fellers I want ya t' meet."
"Oh?" the dark haired man approached with an
empty glass.
"Here," Hank poured. "Let me freshen that up. This
here's our mayor, Jake Slicker, an' this is one of our
leadin' businessmen, Loren Bray."
"Gentlemen," St. Helen bowed.
"Say somethin' to 'em," Hank said.
"Pardon me?" the man's eyes were dark as coal.
"Somethin' from Shakespeare," the saloon keeper
chuckled.
"A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!" St.
Helen spoke with impeccable elocution.
"Robert E's got horses," Loren took him literally.
"Sir," the man shook his head. "That was Richard
III, Act 5, Scene 4."
"Sounded more like a want ad in the Gazette,"
Loren turned away.
"Ya look familiar t' me," Jake scratched his head.
"We ever meet before?"
"It is highly unlikely, sir," St. Helen replied.
"Hum," Jake was puzzled. "What ya do for a livin'?"
"I.... uh, I'm a house painter," he answered.
"House painter?" Jake's eyes widened. "I'm buildin'
a house."
31
"Sully's buildin' it," Loren corrected.
"Anyway, maybe I could use your services," the
barber suggested. "Ya gonna be in town very
long?"
"Of that, I am uncertain," St. Helen replied.
************
"Cloud Dancin'," Dorothy encouraged him to drink
some water. "I was thinkin'. I'd like t' write a book
about what happened. I'd like t' tell the story of
individuals who witnessed the battle."
"I can tell you their stories," he was appreciative. "I
spoke to many after the battle."
"Let's do a few at a time, so we don't tire ya out,"
she recommended. "Ya need lots o' rest, too."
"There is one story I will tell you tonight before I
sleep," he grasped her hand.
Dorothy braced herself for what was to come, "I'm
listenin'."
"There are so many voices," he began. "So many
cries of sorrow and of war. Riding next to One Bull,
there was a warrior, Good Bear Boy, who was
injured. One Bull tied a lariat around him and
dragged him out of harm's way. When he tried to
secure Good Bear Boy to his horse, the pony was
hit. One Bull walked them both to the rear and
became covered with the blood of the warrior and
the horse. Then he heard a scraping sound."
He paused, and for a moment Dorothy thought he
had drifted off. She raised his hand to kiss it, then
reached for her tablet and pencil. She began to
write down what he had said.
"I am not finished," he saw her working.
"Sorry," she stopped. "Go on."
He continued, "One Bull heard a scraping sound.
He turned and saw it came from his friend's bones
rubbing together."
Dorothy felt her stomach weaken, unsure if she
would be able to listen to these tales of horror.
Then she looked into the pained eyes of her friend.
Yes, she thought. I must listen. I must hear. I must
tell.
************
"Sully," Michaela sat in the rocking chair by the
bedroom fireplace. "Do you think Lives in Hope
survived?"
"I don't know," he washed his face. "We can ask
Cloud Dancin' t'morrow."
"We must be careful going to and from the cave,"
she stared at the glowing embers. "Just like...."
Sully knew she was remembering his time in hiding.
He came to her and, kneeling down, rested his
hands on the arms of the chair. Michaela looked at
him, then ran her fingers through his hair.
"I'm here," he said softly. "I ain't hidin' in the cave
anymore."
"The description of what happened at Little Big
Horn," she shook her head. "It reminded me of
Washita."
"I know," he nodded.
Suddenly her face became pale, and she bolted
from the chair. Running to the basin, she threw up.
Sully took the damp towel he had just used and
rushed to her. He rubbed her back until the nausea
passed, recalling her same reaction to the
massacre of Cheyenne by Custer at Washita. Then
he tenderly wiped her face.
"I'm sorry," she was embarrassed.
"It's okay," he wrapped his arms around her.
32
"I can still picture the carnage," she was becoming
faint.
Sully felt her knees buckle, and lifted her into his
arms. He gently set her on the bed.
"Michaela," he kissed her forehead. "I'm gonna get
ya some tea."
"No," she reached for him. "Please don't leave me.
Don't ever leave me, Sully."
"I'm not leavin'," he sat beside her. "I just wanna
help settle your stomach."
"I'll be fine," she closed her eyes. "As long as I don't
dream."
He stroked her hair until she fell asleep. Then he
ran his finger along her chin.
"I love you, Michaela," he whispered.
"Poppy?" it was Katie softly knocking at the door.
He opened it and lifted his daughter, "What are
you doin' up, Kates?"
"Wanna check on Mama," she pointed. "She
okay?"
"She's sleepin'," he whispered. "See?"
"She's so pretty when she sleepin'," the little girl
smiled.
"She's pretty when she's awake, too," he grinned.
"An' ya know what?
"What?" she loved the scent of her father.
"You look just like her," he rubbed her back.
"I do?" her eyebrows rose.
"Yep," he kissed her cheek. "Mama's gonna be
okay, my sweet girl. Now, let's get you back t' bed."
************
"Paint a house?" St. Helen sat alone in his hotel
room, inebriated. "A man of my fame? A man of
my greatness? Ha!"
He poured another glass and rubbed his throbbing
leg.
"If they only knew who I really am!" he raised his
glass as he glanced in the mirror. "But no one must
know. No one must ever know."
************
Chapter 9
************
"Hey, Horace," Jake called just as Horace opened
his window for business.
"You're up awful early," the telegraph operator
yawned.
"Got a busy day," the barber tilted back his hat.
"Do me a favor."
"What?" Horace put on his sleeve protectors.
"Let me look at your wanted posters," Jake said.
"They're on the board," he pointed.
"I mean old ones," Jake countered.
"How far back?" Horace opened a drawer.
"How far back do they go?" he asked.
"Couple o' years," the telegraph operator pulled
them from the drawer. "Who ya lookin' for
anyway?"
"John St. Helen," Jake answered. "If that's his real
name."
************
33
Michaela yawned and stretched as the morning sun
brightened the room. She turned and ran her hand
along Sully's arm. He continued to sleep. She rolled
over onto her side and began to rise, but stopped
when she felt his warm palm against her back.
"Mornin'," he said.
"Good morning," she drew her face close to his.
"How ya feel?" he caressed her cheek.
"I feel.... all right," she kissed him, then started to
rise.
"Where ya goin'?" he hoped she would prefer to
stay in bed a while longer.
"I have patients to see, I have inventories to do, I
have...." she stopped.
"Do ya really?" Sully knew her too well.
She looked down at her folded hands, "No."
"Come here," he opened his arms to her.
She lay down in his embrace and closed her eyes,
feeling the power of his love engulf her, calm her,
love her.
"Oh, Sully," her voice wavered.
"Tell, me what's botherin' ya, Michaela," his eyes
implored.
She took a deep breath, then sighed, "I want to
hear what happened. I want to be there for Cloud
Dancing."
"But, it's tearin' ya up," he recognized.
"What should I do?" she looked away.
"What does your heart tell ya?" he said softly.
"It tells me that my dear friend needs me," she
answered. "It tells me that the man who gave you
the will to live is aching for the comfort of his
family."
"An' what does your head tell ya?" he kissed her
hand.
"My head tells me that I don't think I can bear to
listen to the atrocities," she confessed.
"So which do ya listen to?" he asked.
"I don't know," she was still frustrated. "What do
you think?"
"I think it would be best for ya t' go int' town
t'day," he stated. "See some patients, do your
inventories, spend time with the children."
"Why?" she did not expect that reaction.
"Because sometimes ya gotta step back from what
bothers ya an' do the things that make ya feel
comfortable an' safe," he counseled.
She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her
heart, "You wouldn't mind?"
"Mind?" he pulled her closer. "Is that what's been
botherin ya? Thinkin' I'd mind?"
"I want to be there when you need me, Sully," she
touched his cheek.
"An' I wanna be there when you need me," he
tenderly kissed her. "But I don't want ya gettin'
sick, losin' sleep, or achin' in here."
"I want to be there for Cloud Dancing, too," she felt
guilty.
"Dorothy an' me will be there," he assured her.
"Let's just take things one day at a time. Who
knows? Ya may feel different t'morrow."
"I do want to check on Cloud Dancing's condition,"
she began to rise from the bed.
34
"Hey," he got a pouty look.
"What?" she could not help but smile at his
expression.
"I was sorta hopin' you'd check my condition, too,"
he tried some levity.
"Your condition?" she played along. "Don't you feel
well?" She felt his forehead. "Temperature's
normal."
"How 'bout my heart?" he lay back.
She placed her hand on his chest, "It's beating just
right."
"Just right for what?" he grinned.
"For this," she leaned forward and gave him the
kiss that he craved.
Instantly, she triggered in him a consuming desire.
She immediately felt it, as well. How was it
possible, each one thought, to hold so much love
and longing for someone?
Michaela leaned back and pulled her husband atop
her. His ability to share his strength and power in
such a tender and gentle way amazed her. Her
ability to be so vulnerable and soft in such a
beguiling way totally captivated him.
"I will love you all my days," he repeated the words
of his marriage proposal.
"I never imagined I could be so happy," she closed
her eyes and remembered.
"Thank you for giving me your heart," he kissed the
sides of her mouth.
She reached up and captured his lips in a deeper
kiss. Moved to greater passion, his body began to
ache for her. She yearned to have him share his
love. And so in this private haven, they came
together, reaching unimagined heights, feeling
unimaginable satisfaction.
She wiped the moisture from his face as he gently
let his body rest on hers, prolonging their union.
Sully peered directly into her eyes as he softly
spoke:
"From woman's eyes this doctrine I derive,
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academies,
That show, contain and nourish all the world."
"Byron?" she surmised.
"Shakespeare," he whispered.
Katie's voice broke the intimacy of the moment,
"Mama!"
"Speaking of nourishment," she smiled. "I believe
our little ones are hungry."
"Either that or they're int' somethin'," he joked.
"I love you, Mr. Sully," she reached for her robe.
"I love you, too," he kissed her. "Stomach feelin'
okay?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I'd better start breakfast."
"I'll get the horses ready," Sully pulled on his
buckskins. "Matthew said he'll watch the kids this
mornin'."
************
"What are you doin'?" Dorothy awoke to find Cloud
Dancing pacing.
"I must move around," he said. "I cannot continue
to lie down."
"But you're recoverin' from your wound," she
pulled her hair back. "Wait 'til Michaela checks ya."
35
"I know what my body needs," his words were
biting.
Dorothy looked down, stung by his tone.
"I am sorry," his voice softened.
"I'll make ya breakfast," she hoped he would be
able to eat.
************
"Find what you're lookin' for?" Horace asked Jake.
"No," he returned the wanted posters.
"Who is this St. Helen fella?" the telegraph
operator queried.
"Met him last night at the Gold Nugget," Jake
answered. "Real suspicious man. Acts like he's on
stage spoutin' off words from Shakespeare. An' he
looks so familiar."
"Maybe he's an actor," Horace suggested.
"An actor?" Jake made a face. "Why the hell ain't
he in a play then, 'stead o' drinkin' by himself at the
saloon?"
"I don't know," Horace shrugged. "Just a thought."
"Well, I got work t' do," Jake turned to leave.
"Thanks."
************
"Your recovery is progressing nicely," Michaela
completed her examination of Cloud Dancing.
"I have had good care," he smiled.
"He's been tellin' me more about what happened
at Little Big Horn," Dorothy held up her notes. "I'm
gonna get it printed."
"That's just what Matthew suggested last night,"
Sully commented.
"Cloud Dancing," Michaela broached the subject.
"What happened to Lives in Hope?"
"He was unharmed," the medicine man's words
comforted her.
"Thank God," Michaela closed her eyes.
"It is my hope that people will read Dorothy's
words," Cloud Dancing stated.
"Well...." Michaela began to feel uncomfortable at
the thought of reading such an account. "I'm afraid
I must go to the Clinic now."
"Thank you, Michaela," Cloud Dancing understood
her discomfort.
"You're welcome," she leaned forward to embrace
him. "I leave you in good hands."
"I know," he agreed.
"I'll take ya t' your horse," Sully escorted his wife to
the cave's entrance.
"Don't let him overdo it, Sully," she advised. "He
still needs a great deal of rest."
"I'll see to it," he placed his hands on her shoulders.
"I'll stop by the Clinic later."
"Good-bye," she kissed him.
************
Brian entered the library and began to peruse the
titles of books about history.
"Looking for anything in particular?" Professor
Kelly's voice startled him.
"Dr. Kelly!" the young man turned around. "What
are you doin' here?"
"I have volunteered my services for a few days a
week," he smiled. "I'm even loaning out some of
my personal collection of books."
36
"Gosh, ya must have lots of 'em," Brian's eyes
widened.
"So, how can I help you?" the professor asked.
"I don't know," Brian returned his glance to the
shelves. "What do ya think might be interestin'?"
"In history?" the older man chuckled. "Everything is
interesting to me."
"Have ya ever written a book o' your own, Dr.
Kelly?" Brian wondered.
"I've written papers that have been published," he
replied. "But a book, no."
"What's the most interestin' historic events t'
you?" the young man inquired.
"Humm," he rubbed his chin. "That's difficult to
narrow down. I have a great deal of interest in
revolutions, I suppose."
"Like the American Revolution?" Brian offered.
"Yes," Kelly responded. "And the French
Revolution. And I have a particular fascination with
our Civil War."
"That was a revolution?" he leaned against the
shelf.
"An attempt at one," the professor smiled. "I doubt
if any event in our history will ever have a more
profound impact on our country."
"We studied about the War an' President Lincoln,"
Brian noted.
"Ah, Lincoln," Dr. Kelly's eyes saddened. "I met him
once."
Brian's eyes widened, "Ya did?"
"Yes," he said. "It was in 1863, at the height of the
War. Ironically, it was at Ford's Theater. I was in
attendance of the play 'The Marble Heart.'
President Lincoln was there, too, and I introduced
myself to him afterwards."
"I'd have loved t' have met President Lincoln,"
Brian was awe struck.
"An even greater irony was the star of the show,"
the professor stated.
"Who was the star?" the young man was
enthralled.
"John Wilkes Booth," Kelly answered.
"The man who shot the President?" Brian
remembered.
"Yes," the older man folded his arms. "The
president was so impressed with the young
tragedian's energy and talent, he sent a note
backstage asking if he could meet him. Booth
declined."
"That's real interestin'," the young man observed.
"History is full of ironies such as that," Kelly told
him. "Did you know that Booth came from an
acting family? His older brother Edwin is
considered one of the greatest actors in our
nation."
"I've heard of him," Brian recalled.
"Edwin once saved the life of President Lincoln's
son, Robert, at a railroad station in New Jersey,"
Kelly recounted. "And Edwin gave a special
performance a few years later by special
appointment with Lincoln and the First Lady."
"He could've shot the president, too," the young
man hypothesized.
"No, Edwin was very pro-Union," the professor
countered.
37
"Why ain't that in the history books?" Brian
speculated.
"I suppose because history is full of so many
details, the writers prefer to include only the big
events," he answered.
"But it's the little details that are the most
interestin'," Brian said.
"Think how long history books would be if they
included every single detail," Kelly chuckled.
"I guess you're right," Brian smiled. "So, what book
would ya recommend for me t' read?"
************
Cloud Dancing sat down, "I wish to tell the story
now of a black man who died."
"A soldier?" Dorothy asked.
"Yes," the medicine man nodded. "Eagle Elk came
upon an Indian woman standing over a black man
who had fallen from his horse as the soldiers ran
from the woods. The dark-skinned man was
begging for his life. The woman called out, 'If you
did not want to be killed, why did you not stay
home where you belong and not come to attack
us?' Later I heard what happened to the body of
the dark-skinned soldier."
He stopped, and Sully gulped, knowing how painful
it was for his friend.
Cloud Dancing then continued, "He had been shot
in the knees, his skin stripped off, his blood drained
into a bucket, and an iron picket pin driven
through..... his manhood."
"The Indian woman did that to him?" Dorothy was
sickened.
"I do not know," he shook his head. "But I do know
that she wanted revenge for the death of her
brother."
Sully closed his eyes, relieved that Michaela had
not been there to hear the description.
************
"Michaela," Hank's voice was urgent. "Need ya t'
come t' the Gold Nugget right away."
"What is it?" she rose from her desk.
"One o' my customers is real sick," he informed
her. "Think he might be dyin'."
"I'll be right there," she reached for her medical
bag and followed him.
Hank led her across the street and up to the room
of John St. Helen. The man was pale and burning
up with fever.
As she began to examine him, the man grabbed her
wrist, "I... I am dying."
"I'll try to help you," she hoped to allay his fears.
He became delirious as he recited:
"My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain."
Michaela looked up at Hank with a questioning
expression.
He shrugged, "He's a walkin' fountain o'
Shakespeare."
St. Helen continued:
"I shall despair. There is no creature loves me;
And if I die no soul will pity me:
And wherefore should they, since that I myself
Find in myself no pity to myself?"
"I know he ain't right in the head," Hank leaned
over. "But what's physically wrong with him?"
38
"I believe he has dysentery," she concluded. "I
need to get him to the Clinic at once."
************
Chapter 10
************
"Madam," St. Helen's eyes tried to focus. "Who are
you?"
"I am Dr. Michaela Quinn," she told him. "You're in
a recovery room at my Clinic."
"I am dying," he repeated the words he had spoken
earlier in the Gold Nugget.
"You have dysentery," she diagnosed. "I've given
you some medicine for it."
His dark eyes had a haunted look, "You don't
understand who I am."
"You're John St. Helen," she answered.
"No," he shook his head slowly. "I have been living
a lie these past eleven years, and I'm so tired."
"Then you need to rest," she counseled.
"I don't want to die without the truth being told,"
his hands shook.
"Ma!" Brian's voice was heard from downstairs.
"Mr. St. Helen," she patted his arm. "I want you to
rest right now."
He closed his eyes and began to drift off as
Michaela left to check on her son.
************
"What is it, Brian?" she reached her office.
"I had the most interestin' mornin' with Dr. Kelly,"
he was excited. "He's volunteerin' at the library."
"That's wonderful," she smiled.
"He told me all about John Wilkes Booth," the
young man could not contain his exuberance.
"The man who shot President Lincoln?" she
removed the soiled sheets from her examining
table.
"Yep," he nodded. "Dr. Kelly even got t' meet
President Lincoln once, an' saw John Wilkes Booth
in a play."
"Goodness," Michaela understood her son's
energetic reaction.
"He loaned me this book t' read, too," Brian held it
up.
Before Michaela could respond, Matthew arrived
with Katie and Josef.
************
Cloud Dancing related another tale, "There was
Black Elk, who was staring at the body of a white
soldier. An old warrior rode by and said, 'Boy, get
off and scalp him.' Black Elk nervously slid off his
pony's back. He had never done this before. He
unsheathed his knife, knelt down and began to cut.
The soldier squirmed and ground his teeth in pain.
He was still alive. Black Elk swallowed hard,
finished the cut and popped off the hair. He raised
it high, but did not know whether to exult or to feel
sadness for the life he took. He rode back to his
mother to show her."
"I can't imagine seein' what you saw," Sully shook
his head.
"There is nothing glorious in war," the medicine
man leaned back to rest. "All men bleed the same
color blood."
"But the soldiers shouldn't've been there t' begin
with," Dorothy noted. "It was your land by treaty."
39
"A soldier and a warrior know the risk of what they
do," Cloud Dancing observed. "It is for the innocent
women and children that I grieve."
"We can stop an' rest if ya want," Dorothy
understood he must be tired.
"No," he closed his eyes and sighed. "There is the
story of Gall, the old Hunkpapa warrior. He had
been in the valley, unable to get to the fighting.
When he returned to the village, he found it
abandoned and his family missing. Gall went out to
find them, and met up with Sitting Bull and One
Bull, who guarded the refugee women and
children. Still he could not locate his family. Gall
rode back to the village, where he finally found his
two wives and children. Dead."
Sully suddenly craved to be with his own family.
"Now, I must sleep," Cloud Dancing closed his eyes.
Dorothy looked at Sully and he nodded.
"I'm goin' int' town," he said. "I'll bring ya back
some supper."
"Here, Sully," Dorothy handed him a note. "Could
ya have Horace send this t' Charles Stoddard?"
"Sure," he agreed.
"I figured a telegram would be faster. I told Charles
t' send his reply t' Matthew," she said.
"Matthew?" Sully was puzzled. "Why?"
"I thought it best t' have someone with legal
knowledge look over what he says," Dorothy
answered.
"Good idea," he acknowledged.
************
"Got a note here Miss Dorothy wants sent t'
Charles Stoddard," Sully urgently approached
Horace.
"That the uncle o' the little girl who ya found in
Denver?" the telegraph operator asked.
"Yep," Sully replied.
"I thought Dorothy's in Denver," he opened the
note.
"'Fore she left, she asked me t' send this for her,"
Sully fibbed.
"Okay," Horace began to click his telegraph. "I'll get
it out right away."
************
"Michaela!" Sully burst into the Clinic and
embraced his wife.
"Sully?" she could hardly breath in his arms.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
"I just needed t' be with ya," his eyes were red.
"I'm here," her voice reassured him.
"Katie! Josef!" he knelt down and beckoned his
children from the anteroom.
They soon responded to their father's voice and
rushed to his arms. Sully lifted them and sweetly
kissed his daughter and son.
"Where's Brian?" he glanced up at Michaela.
"He's at Matthew's office," she placed her hand on
his shoulder. "The boys are safe, Sully."
He stood up and drew her into his arms again, "I
love you."
"Poppy?" Katie tugged at his leg. "Wanna go t'
Willow Pond an' throw rocks?"
40
"I'd love to, Kates," he smiled. Turning to his wife,
he asked, "Can ya join us?"
"No," she shook her head. "I have a patient
upstairs."
"We'll be back in a little bit then," he kissed her and
took his children by the hand.
************
After a brief rest, Cloud Dancing resumed his
descriptions. Dorothy tried to keep up with the
many tales of horror that Cloud Dancing had
witnessed and heard. There was the story of an
Indian walking dizzily to the rear of a battle line, his
jaw nearly shot off and blood dripping from his
mouth. There was the Minneconjou Hump, who
was shot down with his pony. When he sat down to
examine his wound, he found the bullet had torn a
path from his knee, up his leg and out his hip. He
lay in the dirt and watched the strangely serene
sky.
"Why not take another rest?" Dorothy lay down
her pencil.
Cloud Dancing took a deep breath, "I still see the
blood when I close my eyes."
She placed her hand in his, "You're safe now."
He shivered, "No, I am not safe. Nowhere will I be
safe."
"Where did Sittin' Bull take the tribes?" she asked.
"North," he replied. "They will try to make safe
passage to Canada."
"Will you...." she paused, not knowing if she truly
wanted to know.
"Will I go to them?" he completed her thought.
"Yes," she caressed his cheek.
"I will go where the Spirits lead me," he responded.
************
"Poppy," Katie tossed a pebble into the pond and
giggled at the ripples.
Sully leaned back and held Josef above his head,
slowly lowering and raising the little boy to kiss
him. Josef tried to grab his father's nose each time
he was lowered.
"How ya make the stones bounce on the water?"
Katie tapped her father's leg.
Sully threw one sidearm, and it bounced as Katie
counted, "One, two, three, four, five, SIX times!"
"Stand up, an' try it, Kates," he advised.
She did as he suggested and counted, "One,....
that's all?"
"Lean sideways," he recommended.
Katie did and fell over as she threw the rock. Her
lower lip turned under as if she were about to cry,
but she saw her father's expression and stopped.
"Mama gonna be mad I got my dress dirty," she
brushed off some leaves.
"Nah," he set his son down and held out his hand
to her. "She won't be mad."
"She likes me t' stay clean, Poppy," Katie had a
serious expression.
He pulled both of his children into his lap and
kissed them, "I think I'll get both o' ya as dirty as I
can."
"Yea!" Josef cheered.
"Why?" Katie could not believe her father's
behavior.
41
"'Cause sometimes ya get dirt on ya when ya play,"
he tickled her side.
Suddenly, Katie stopped laughing, spotting
something a few yards from them, "Poppy, look."
It was a dead bird, ants crawling over its body.
"Leave it be, Kates," he attempted to divert her
attention.
"Why the ants all over it?" she could not contain
her curiosity.
Josef now stopped to observe the object of his
sister's fascination.
Sully pulled his children closer, "When an animal
dies, it goes back t' Mother Earth."
"Just like when people die?" the little girl recalled.
"Right," he nodded. "We put them in a box an' bury
'em. But no one puts animals in a box. Mother
Earth just takes 'em back a little bit at a time. An'
the ants help with that."
"Can we put the bird in a box, Poppy?" she
requested.
Sully stood up and went to the buckboard. In the
back, he found a small box containing some hinges
for Jake's doors. He emptied it and returned to his
children. He placed the bird in the box. Katie and
Josef helped him dig a hole, and they buried it.
Then the children listened in wonder as their father
chanted some Cheyenne words.
************
"Dr. Quinn," John St. Helen awoke to see the
doctor checking his pulse.
"I'm going to give you another dose," Michaela
stirred some powder into a water filled glass.
"I.... I need to confess something," he tried to hold
his eyes open.
"Please drink this first," she held the glass to his
lips.
He did as she ordered, then returned to his
confession, "I must tell someone before I die. I am
not John St. Helen."
"You're not?" she was convinced the fever was
affecting his lucidity.
"No," he swallowed hard. "If I tell you who I really
am, promise me you'll notify my family of my
death."
"I promise," she saw something sinister in his coal
black eyes.
"I am a murderer," he stunned her.
"A murderer?" she tensed.
He demanded, "Get me a mirror."
"A mirror?" Michaela did not know what to think of
the strange man.
"Yes!" he insisted.
She left the room, to return momentarily with a
handheld mirror.
He grasped it and gazed at his reflection, "This
messenger of death is my quest, and I desire to see
the curtain of death fall upon this last tragic act of
mine. I have something to tell you. I am going to
die in a few minutes, and I don't believe you would
do anything to injure me. Did it ever occur to you
that I am anything but an ordinary painter?"
42
************
Chapter 11
************
"Mr. St. Helen," Michaela began to feel
apprehensive. "I.... I think...."
"Listen to me!" the man's voice echoed through
the room. "I killed the greatest man that ever
lived."
"Who?" her nerves were frayed.
"Abraham Lincoln," he replied. "I am John Wilkes
Booth."
She was now convinced the man was mad, "John
Wilkes Booth was killed in a barn in...."
"I escaped from the troops who pursued me," he
spoke rapidly. "The man who was killed at Garrett's
farm was named Robey. On the afternoon of April
25, 1865, I remembered that I had left my diary,
wallet and other personal effects in the marsh a
few miles from the farm. Robey was the caretaker
of the farm, and I asked him to retrieve them for
me."
Michaela listened incredulously to the man's story.
"I found out that the federal troops were closing in,
so I made a hasty getaway," St. Helen detailed. "I
later learned that when Robey returned with my
possessions, he discovered that I was gone and
kept them on his person. That night, he slept in the
barn with Davy Herold, one of my comrades. When
the government agents arrived, they set the barn
on fire and killed Robey. Finding my papers on him,
they assumed they had killed John Wilkes Booth."
Not wanting to agitate the disturbed man,
Michaela calmly spoke, "I think that you need to
get some rest now."
"When I am gone," his voice was fading. "Please
notify my brother, Edwin Booth of New York City."
She waited until he was asleep, then left the room.
Pensively, she went to her desk and sat down,
pondering the man's claims.
************
Sully gathered dead leaves into a heap, and invited
his children to jump into it. Turn after turn, the two
leapt into the cushioned pile, laughing and inviting
him to join them. Sully watched with a full heart,
relishing these two little lives whom he and
Michaela had created from their love. He took a
deep breath and let the sound of their joyous tones
play like music to his ears.
Soon, they were indeed dirty from head to toe.
Neither they, nor he minded. Sully wanted to
remember this day with them for the rest of his
life. When the children began to tire, he pulled
them into his embrace and kissed each soiled little
cheek.
"I best get you two back t' your Ma," he smiled.
"Mama not gonna like seein' us dirty," Katie
predicted.
"Your Ma will love seein' ya, no matter how ya
look," Sully winked.
************
"Brian," Michaela greeted her son. "I want you to
see if Dr. Kelly can come to the Clinic right away."
"Why, Ma?" he was curious.
"You won't believe this," she said. "I have a patient
upstairs who believes he's going to die and wanted
to confess his real identity. He claims to be John
Wilkes Booth."
"What?" he laughed.
"Brian," she was serious. "He knew details that
sounded strangely feasible. I know it's an absurd
43
notion, but out of curiosity, I would like for the
professor to speak with him."
"Sure, I'll go get him," the young man opened the
door to leave.
At that moment, Sully arrived with the children.
"Afternoon, Brian," Sully patted his son's back.
"Hi, Pa," he tickled his little brother and sister. "I
gotta run an errand. I'll see ya later."
"Sully!" Michaela stood up when she saw their
children. "What happened?"
"Told ya she'd be mad," Katie glanced up at her
father.
"She's not mad, Kates," Sully looked at his wife. "I
let the kids jump in leaves by the pond."
"They're a mess!" she did not see one square inch
on them that was clean.
Sully pulled her into his arms, "They had a real
good time."
"But...." she was interrupted by his kiss.
Katie leaned over to her brother and spoke low,
"Joey, ya might as well get used t' that. Mama an'
Poppy kiss a lot."
Josef clapped his little hands, "Play!"
"Who is going to bathe them, Mr. Sully?" Michaela
pulled back.
"Thought we both could," he raised an eyebrow.
"Meantime, I'm gonna take supper out t' Cloud
Dancin' an' Dorothy. I'll meet ya at home later?"
"Agreed," she kissed him again.
Sully kissed the children and left. Michaela stood,
arms folded, looking at her offspring.
"What we gonna do now?" Katie looked up.
"I imagine you could both use a nap after such a
busy afternoon," the mother smiled.
"Ya not mad, Mama?" the little girl was relieved.
"Well," she acquiesced. "This is not something I
would want you to do on a regular basis, but since
you were in your father's care and he approved of
it.... no, Sweetheart, I'm not angry."
"Joey," Katie took her brother's hand. "Poppy was
right, but now we gotta take a nap."
"Okay," he thought it a good idea.
Michaela settled the children into bed in the
anteroom, and returned to her office to await
Brian's return with the professor.
************
"Brought ya some supper," Sully entered the cave.
"He's sleeping," Dorothy whispered.
Sully set down the basket and looked at his
Cheyenne brother.
"What will become of him, Sully?" she asked.
"I don't know," he shook his head. "All I know is,
I'm grateful he's alive."
"I am, too," she agreed. "But I fear for his safety.
How long will the Army stay in town?"
"I doubt it will be too much longer," he replied.
"But we still gotta be careful. I brought an extra
horse for him, in case ya need t' make a quick
getaway."
"That's good," Dorothy nodded.
"What is good?" Cloud Dancing roused from his
rest.
44
"How is your side feelin'?" Sully asked.
"I am much better," the medicine man replied.
"Michaela will be back t' check ya in the mornin',"
Sully stated. "Anythin' I can get ya?"
"No, my friend," his eyes seemed brighter. "You
have a family to return to."
Sully chuckled, "I had the kids out by Willow Pond
t'day. Got 'em all dirty."
Dorothy laughed, "What did Michaela say?"
"We got some cleanin' t' do t'night," he grinned.
************
"Professor Kelly," Michaela greeted the man. "I
know this must seem an unusual request, but I
appreciate your coming."
"I don't mind, Dr. Quinn," he replied. "Most
certainly, these are the delusions of a disturbed
man, but nonetheless, it is a fascinating curiosity."
"Can I meet the man, Ma?" Brian requested.
"I think that would be all right," she agreed.
Brian and the professor entered the room where
John St. Helen lay. Michaela stood at the door to
listen if her children woke. Sensing their presence,
the sick man stirred. Kelly was immediately struck
by the man's resemblance to Lincoln's assassin. The
hair, the eyes, the coloring.
"Who are you?" St. Helen was uncomfortable. "Are
you the authorities?"
"No," Kelly assured him in a soothing voice. "I'm Dr.
Kelly, and this is Brian. We're here because...."
"Because you heard who I am," the man completed
his thought. "Well, it's true. I am John Wilkes
Booth."
He proceeded to relay the story of escape and
mistaken identity which he had earlier provided to
Michaela. Kelly was more and more impressed with
his knowledge of details.
"Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
Kelly requested.
"No," the man answered. "You'll soon confirm who
I am."
************
"Know that Shakespeare guy that was in here last
night?" Hank leaned on the bar talking with Jake
and Loren.
"Yea," Jake folded his arms. "I checked out some
old wanted posters at the Depot. He looks so
familiar. Didn't see him, though."
"Well, this mornin' he got real sick," the bartender
told them. "He's over at the Clinic now."
"Strange fella," Loren put his fingers in his vest
pockets.
"He ain't who he claims t' be," Jake said. "That's for
sure."
"Think he's dangerous?" Hank's brow wrinkled.
"I think he's crazy," Loren asserted.
"Why, Hank?" Jake wondered.
"Just thinkin' I oughta warn Michaela," he
speculated.
"Aw, Sully watches her like a hawk," Loren assured
him.
"Still," he stood up straighter. "Think I'll go over an'
check things out."
As he crossed the street, Hank caught sight of the
mountain man nearing his wife's Clinic.
45
"Sully," he approached.
"Hank," Sully acknowledged.
"Michaela tell ya about a patient she's got in
there?" he asked.
"I know she's got one," Sully nodded.
"He's a real strange one," Hank informed him. "Got
sick at the Gold Nugget. Night before, he was in the
bar, quotin' from Shakespeare an' actin' all
dramatic like some actor."
"Maybe he is an actor," Sully offered.
"Said he's a house painter," Hank countered. "I just
thought ya oughta know t' keep an eye on him."
"Thanks," Sully turned to enter the Clinic.
************
Chapter 12
************
Michaela heard someone enter her office and left
the room of St. Helen.
"Sully," she saw her husband when she reached the
bottom step.
"Hank just told me that patient ya got is a strange
one," he was concerned.
Michaela relayed to him the story of St. Helen's
claim of being John Wilkes Booth and informed him
that Professor Kelly and Brian were upstairs with
him.
"Is he dangerous?" Sully queried.
"He's too weak to do any harm," she replied. "I
believe that he's mentally unbalanced, but...."
"But what?" he noticed her expression.
"He knows things that suggest his claim may be
true," she stated. "That's why I asked Dr. Kelly to
see him. If anyone can corroborate his story, the
professor can."
"Probably just read a lot about the subject," Sully
reasoned.
"Ma?" Brian came down the steps.
"What is it?" she turned to her son.
"Are you an' Pa goin' home soon?" he asked.
"I was going to get Mrs. Madison to stay at the
Clinic with Mr. St. Helen tonight, then go," she said.
"Are you ready to leave?"
"I was wonderin' if Dr. Kelly an' me could stay with
him?" he requested.
"I think that would be all right," she nodded. "What
do you think, Sully?"
"I think I wanna meet this man first," he walked
toward the steps.
"Brian, please stay here in case the children
waken," Michaela followed her husband.
************
Cloud Dancing returned to his account of Little Big
Horn, "Runs The Enemy said the soldiers and
Indians were so mixed up, you could not tell one
from the other. When the last white man was
killed, the smoke rolled up like a mountain above
our heads, and the soldiers were piled one on top
of another dead. Runs The Enemy came upon a big
soldier with plump cheeks and a stubby black
beard. Suddenly the man rose up on one elbow
and frightened some Indians. Soon, he lay dead,
the last man killed in the battle."
Dorothy finished writing down the narration, and
turned to see if there was more.
Cloud Dancing said, "There was joy in the village
after the battle, for a great victory had been won.
46
Yet there was sorrow, too, for what wife, mother
or sister gives thought of victory when she finds
her own family among the killed? Too many had
gone to the Spirit Land. There was great respect for
the bravery of those who died, including the white
men."
"It was a victory against the Army," Dorothy
considered.
"Though my people celebrate the victory, it will
only bring more soldiers," he answered.
"How many Indians lost their lives?" she wondered.
"40-50 I believe," he estimated.
"Cloud Dancin'," Dorothy reached for his hand. "If
you go to be with your people, I want to come with
you."
"No," he slowly lowered his head. "That is not
possible."
"I know the risks," she countered. "I would rather
be with you in that existence, than be without you,
wondering if you're safe."
"Dorothy," his eyes reddened. "I do not wish to
discuss this now."
************
St. Helen was sleeping when Sully and Michaela
entered the recovery room.
The professor approached, "Dr. Quinn, I know of
some distinguishing markings on the body of John
Wilkes Booth which I would like for you to verify."
"What are they?" she stepped toward the bed.
Kelly recalled from his research, "Booth had an
injury over his right eye, inflicted during sword
play."
Michaela pulled back the inky black hair of the
man, "He has scar tissue above his right eye that is
consistent with that sort of injury."
The professor continued, "Booth had an injury to
his right thumb, said to have occurred when he
caught his hand in a windlass."
"Here," Michaela turned his wrist and saw the
mark.
"And," Kelly concluded. "John Wilkes Booth broke
his left leg in his leap from the President's box at
Ford's Theater."
Michaela pulled back the covers to examine St.
Helen, "His left fibula has been broken and set,
many years ago."
"Doctor, if one of these injuries were missing from
this man, it could be concluded that this is not the
assassin of President Lincoln, but...." Kelly stopped.
"But the presence of all of them is compelling
evidence," Michaela felt a chill.
"I would like to stay the night here," the professor
requested. "I can question him further when he
wakes."
"Brian wants to stay with you, Dr. Kelly," Michaela
stated. "Would you mind?"
"Not at all," he smiled. "I am impressed with his
intellect and natural curiosity."
"I'll leave some instructions for Mr. St. Helen's
care," she began to write on a tablet. "If his
condition worsens, have Brian ride home to get
me."
Sully was convinced that St. Helen represented no
physical danger to his son or the professor, and so,
they departed.
************
47
"Teresa," Jake spoke to his wife at the dinner table.
"Ya know where I put those old newspapers I saved
from the end o' the War?"
"Yes," she replied. They are in the bottom drawer
of our bureau. Why?"
"I saw a man the other night who looks real
familiar," he responded. "I think it might've been in
one o' them papers long time ago."
"I will get them out," she nodded.
She returned shortly with a stack of newspapers,
flaking off along the edges from age.
Jake began to sift through them, delicately
handling them to prevent their falling apart.
Then he suddenly stopped, "Here. Look at this."
"It's very difficult to make out the man," Teresa
shook her head. "The photograph has turned very
yellow."
"I'm tellin' ya," he asserted. "This is the man I saw."
"John Wilkes Booth?" she laughed. "Jacob, he is
long dead."
"I'm gonna talk t' Dr. Mike first thing in the
mornin'," he stated. "He's in her Clinic."
************
"Josef!" Sully chased his dripping wet son through
the living room. "Come back here!"
The toddler happily ran naked between the
downstairs rooms, having completed his bath.
Michaela was drying off Katie, who complained of
water in her ear.
"Mama," Katie turned. "Why's Joey runnin' 'round
like that."
"I believe your brother is teasing your father," she
chuckled. "He seems to be developing an impish
streak."
"I have an impish streak?" Katie repeated the
phrase.
The mother smiled, "You've been known to be a bit
devilish at times."
"Why?" the child inquired.
"Why are you devilish?" Michaela repeated. "I
suppose because a certain man encourages it on
occasion."
"What man?" Katie's eyes widened.
"Your Daddy," Michaela leaned forward and kissed
her.
Sully finally corralled his son and returned him to
the kitchen, "Don't think we need t' dry him off,
Michaela. His runnin' took care o' that."
"Here," she handed Katie's nightgown to him. "Put
this on your daughter, and I'll dry his hair."
"Mama, Mama," Josef sang as she ran the towel
through his long locks.
"What song is that, Sweetheart?" she chuckled.
"I been tryin' t' teach Joey songs," Katie related.
"But he makes up his own words."
Michaela diapered the little boy and lifted him up
to kiss him.
"Got a couple o' sweet smellin' kids here," Sully
winked.
"We play in the leaves again t'morrow, Poppy?"
Katie requested.
48
"Uh," he looked toward his wife. "I don't think so,
Kates, but I'll take ya back t' Willow Pond again
soon."
"Time for bed now," Michaela led the way for the
steps.
"I don't think Mama was mad, Poppy," Katie
whispered.
"Told ya so," he grinned.
************
"What can I get for you boys?" Hank smiled when
the soldiers, Carpenter and Whitehorn, entered the
Gold Nugget.
Matthew paid close attention to their
conversation.
"Beers," Carpenter removed his hat.
"Round up any Injuns?" the bartender smiled.
"No," Whitehorn sipped his drink. "We've been
ordered back t' Fort Lincoln. Leavin' t'morrow."
"Then the beer's on the house," Hank poured
another round.
************
"Matthew," Horace pounded on his office door.
Matthew raised his suspenders and peered
through the window, "Horace?"
"Telegram just came through for ya," he answered.
"Sully sent it this afternoon, an' the reply's for you.
Sorry t' wake ya, but I figured it's important."
"Thanks," he yawned.
Opening it, he read quickly. Then he rushed to
finish dressing.
"Gotta show this t' Sully an' Ma," he said to
himself.
************
Chapter 13
************
"I've never seen our children so filthy," Michaela
half scolded her husband as they prepared for bed.
He did not reply, but merely washed his face.
"Did you hear me?" she brushed her hair.
"I heard," he opened the window.
"I'm sorry, Sully," she regretted teasing him. "I
know you had a wonderful time with them."
"That's okay," he leaned his elbows on the sill and
inhaled the cool night air.
She tenderly set her palms against his shoulder
blades, then kissed his back.
"Katie saw a dead bird this afternoon," he raised
his arm to encourage her to slide around to his
side.
She responded to his invitation.
Sully continued, "She saw ants crawlin' all over it."
"Oh, my," she knew their daughter's curiosity
would be raised.
"I told her the ants help Mother Earth take back
the body o' animals," he rubbed his upper lip. "She
knew they put dead people in a box, so we had t'
bury the bird the same way."
"Sounds like you handled it well," she supported
his treatment of the subject.
"Sometimes it's hard bein' a Pa," he closed his
eyes. "They ask questions that are tough t'
answer."
49
"I know," she smiled. "But I can think of no one
better equipped to handle their questions."
He pulled her closer for a kiss, "Thanks."
"I always knew you would make a wonderful
father," she rubbed his arm.
"How'd ya know that?" his eyes gleamed.
"Because you're kind," she kissed his left cheek.
"And caring," she kissed his right cheek. "And
loving," she ran her finger along his lips.
"Wonder how they'll turn out?" he contemplated.
"Our children?" she drank in his handsome face.
"They will turn out perfect."
"Perfect?" he chuckled. "If bath time is any
indication, we got our work cut out for us."
"Us," she repeated the word. "It is the most
wonderful word, Sully. Our beautiful children here
because of 'us.'"
He lightly touched her cheeks, her temples, her
nose, her lips as he recited:
"Her angel's face
As the great eye of heaven shined bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place;
Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace."
She sighed and turned to kiss his hand, "Was that
Wordsworth?"
"Edmund Spenser," he leaned in to kiss her more
deeply.
"When was the last time I told you how much I love
you, Mr. Sully?" she felt her pulse race.
"Um," he looked up as if to ponder it. "Can't
remember."
"Well," she ran her hand across his chest. "I do love
you."
"Sure am glad," he grinned.
Again, he initiated a kiss. He ran his hands up and
down her sides, then pulled her so close, she could
feel every contour of his body.
"Oh, Sully, how I need you," she invited.
"I need you, too," he lifted her into his arms.
Carrying her to their bed, he began to lower the
straps of her nightgown. His caresses fueled her
desire even further. Soon, they carried their
longings to their ultimate fruition. Sully pulled the
sheet up to cover them. Michaela stroked the side
of his face and lightly kissed him. Soon, engulfed in
one another's arms, they fell asleep.
************
"Dr. Kelly," Brian touched the older man's arm.
"He's wakin' up."
"Mmm?" Kelly stirred.
St. Helen stared at the two beside his bed, "Why
are you still here?"
"Our purpose is twofold, Mr. St. Helen," the
professor explained. "We are monitoring your
condition on behalf of Dr. Quinn, and we are here
to question you about your claims, should you feel
up to it."
It was at this moment that the sick man realized he
was feeling much improved. He hesitated to
continue with the story of his true identity.
"What claims?" he said.
Kelly was puzzled, "You told us that you are John
Wilkes Booth."
St. Helen laughed, "Surely, you jest."
50
"Jest?" Brian was surprised. "Ya look like Booth, ya
talk like him, an' ya...."
"Brian," Dr. Kelly interrupted. "It appears that Mr.
St. Helen has changed his mind."
"But..." the young man sat in disbelief.
"Come," the professor rose from his chair. "Let us
leave him to rest."
St. Helen laughed again as they departed. The
professor pulled Brian aside in the hallway.
"He's recanting, Brian," the older man said.
"What's that mean?" he wondered.
"He's disavowing his statements about his
identity," Dr. Kelly defined. "He's feeling better,
and he believes that death is no longer imminent."
"So, he's not John Wilkes Booth?" Brian concluded.
"If he is, he no longer wishes for anyone to know,"
the professor looked down.
************
Matthew entered the darkened house and found
his way to the kitchen.
"Maybe I oughta wait 'til mornin'," he said to
himself.
"Matthew?" Sully came down the steps, tomahawk
drawn.
"Yea," he nodded as he lit a lamp.
"Somethin' wrong?" Sully feared.
"This telegram came for me from Charles
Stoddard," he handed the message to Sully.
"Nothin' he can do," Sully scanned it. "Sheridan's
ordered revenge for Custer's death."
Sully took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"Sorry, Sully," Matthew knew how upset he was. "I
still believe the town edict will protect Cloud
Dancin'."
"Federal orders would overrule whatever the town
council says," Sully countered.
"Found out the Army's leavin' for Fort Lincoln
t'morrow," his son yawned.
"Sully?" Michaela had heard voices. "Matthew,
what's wrong?"
"Sully sent a telegram from Miss Dorothy t'
Marjorie's Uncle Charles. Stoddard replied that he
can't help Cloud Dancin'," he summarized.
"If he goes back t' his people, there's danger he
could be captured or killed along the way," Sully
thought about it. "If he makes it safely, he could be
caught up in another attack on their village. An' if
he stays here...."
Matthew completed, "He's either gotta stay in
hidin' or always be in danger o' the Army catchin'
up t' him."
"Or someone turnin' him in," Sully folded his arms.
"What is the best option?" Michaela posed the
question.
"Cloud Dancin's the only one t' answer that," Sully
knew. "We can't tell him what t' do."
"I'll look through my law books," Matthew put on
his hat. "Maybe I can find somethin', anythin' that
could help him."
"Thanks, Matthew," Sully saw him to the door.
When he closed the door, Sully leaned his head
against it. Then he felt Michaela's hand on his
shoulder.
51
"We'll find a way, Sully," she tried to assure him.
************
Sitting Bull had reached the Land of the
Grandmother, Queen Victoria, his name for
Canada. The Army sent a representative to meet
with the great Indian leader. The general offered
Sitting Bull a full pardon on the condition that he
settle at an agency. Sitting Bull angrily responded,
"This country is my country now, and I intend to
stay here and raise people to fill it. We did not give
our country to you; you stole it. You come here to
tell lies; when you go home, take them with you."
Cloud Dancing awoke from his dream and instantly
felt a sense of peace.
"What is it?" Dorothy heard him.
"I have seen what I must do, where I must go," he
replied.
"Where?" she sat up.
"I must return to my people," he calmly stated.
"They will be safe."
"Then I'm goin' with ya," she vowed.
"No, Dorothy," his voice was tender. "This is not a
life that I want you to live."
"I want t' be with you," her voice choked. "Cloud
Dancin', I never met a man like you before. I never
before felt the feelin's I feel with you. When you're
away from me, I...."
"Dorothy," he pulled her closer. "Our worlds are
too different. I cannot ask you to live as a
Cheyenne, and you cannot expect me to live as a
white man."
"Then let's make our own world," tears streamed
down her cheeks.
"The Spirits have spoken to me in my dream," he
wiped the moisture from her face. "I leave
tomorrow."
"Please, let me go with you," she begged.
"It is not possible," he responded.
"Then let me be with you tonight," she implored.
"You are with me," he did not comprehend her
meaning.
"I mean as a man and woman who love one
another," she clarified.
"Dorothy," he resisted the idea. "I cannot ask that
of you."
"You're not askin'," she clasped his hand. "It's what
I want."
"I cannot offer you...." he stopped when she spoke.
"I ask nothin' from you but this night," she spoke
low.
He stood up and walked to the entrance of the
cave.
"Where are you goin'?" she was caught off guard.
"I must think," he stepped into the night.
************
Chapter 14
************
Sully heard the pounding at their door before
Michaela. He sat up and touched her arm, then
pulled on his buckskins and opened the bedroom
door. Quietly, he came down the steps to find Wolf
whining at the door. When Sully opened it, there
stood a frantic Dorothy.
Sully swallowed hard, "Somethin' wrong with Cloud
Dancin'?"
52
"He's gone," her voice bordered on crying.
"Gone?" he wiped the sleep from his eyes.
"Where?"
"Here," she handed him a folded piece of paper.
"He left this."
Michaela, having heard the conversations from
overhead, came downstairs.
"Dorothy?" she went to her friend.
"It's Cloud Dancin', Michaela," the redhead
shivered. "He's gone."
"Back t' Montana t' find Sittin' Bull," Sully
continued to read.
"Come into the kitchen," Michaela wrapped her
arm around Dorothy. "I'll make you some tea."
She sat down and in a low voice confided, "It's me,
Michaela. I drove him away."
"What?" she sat beside her. "How?"
Dorothy turned to see that Sully was rereading the
note, "I wanted t' be with him.... in an intimate way
tonight."
"What?" Michaela was surprised.
"I don't expect ya t' understand," Dorothy pulled
her shawl tighter. "But I'm afraid that's what
caused him t' leave."
Sully stepped into the kitchen, "I'm goin' after
him."
"Sully," Michaela hoped to dissuade him.
"He don't want ya to," Dorothy knew the contents
of the letter. "He don't want any of us to."
"He had a dream," Sully told his wife. "T' go t' Sittin'
Bull an' live in Canada."
"Is he well enough t' travel that far, Michaela?"
Dorothy asked.
"He traveled here from Little Big Horn in worse
condition," she assessed things. "Cloud Dancing is a
man of great fortitude."
Sully walked toward the door and opened it.
"Sully!" Michaela followed on his heels. "Where are
you going?"
"Just t' think," he said over his shoulder.
"That's the last thing Cloud Dancin' said t' me,"
Dorothy told her. Seeing the look of anguish on her
friend's face, she encouraged, "Go t' him, Michaela.
I'll be fine."
Michaela stepped onto the porch and spotted her
husband sitting on the front steps, bathed in
moonlight. She silently approached him and sat
down beside him. They did not speak for several
moments.
Then Michaela slipped her hand in his, "This is
where you told me you'd be my family."
"An' where you said you'd be my best friend," he
recalled fondly.
"You've kept your part of the bargain," she leaned
closer.
"So have you," he took a deep breath.
"What will you do, Sully?" she finally said what was
troubling her.
"I know what I wanna do," he sighed.
"What?" Michaela was uncertain if she truly
wanted to know.
"I wanna...." he stopped.
She squeezed his hand for support.
53
"I wanna do what's right for everyone," he
answered.
"But that's not always possible," she observed.
"True," he agreed.
Turning to pull her into his arms, Sully rested his
chin lightly on her head.
"My first obligation is t' you an' the children," he
avowed. "I put us all in jeopardy once before when
I tried t' help the Indians."
"It was the way you tried that was unfortunate,"
she clarified. "Not the fact that you wanted to
help."
"I'm still so sorry, Michaela," the guilt had never
left him.
"It's all right," she rubbed his arm.
"No, it ain't," he swallowed hard. "I almost got
killed, put ya through hell while I was in hidin' all
those months. I missed out on so much o' Katie's
growin' and...."
He fought to maintain control of his emotions. Her
touch reassured him of her love.
In a soft voice, he continued, "An' I wasn't here
when ya lost the baby."
Michaela glanced at him and saw the glistening
shape of a teardrop on his cheek. She pulled closer
and tenderly kissed it.
"Don't do this to yourself," she hated to see him
like this. "We're safe now.... and happy."
"An' I don't ever wanna jeopardize that again," he
responded. "But, Cloud Dancin' is all alone out
there."
"Perhaps not," she pondered.
"What do ya mean?" he was curious.
"I mentioned his fortitude," she answered. "Cloud
Dancing is the most spiritual person I have ever
met. He has endured tragedies beyond our
imagination, and through it all, he has emerged
strong in spirit. His faith has become his
companion."
Sully considered her words, "Faith."
She sensed his need to be alone and felt better for
having spoken to him, "I'll go check on Dorothy
now."
************
"Michaela?" Dorothy looked up. "The water was
boilin'. I set it t' the side."
"Thank you," Michaela poured them each a cup
and brewed the tea.
"Sully okay?" the redhead asked.
"He needed to be alone," she replied.
"Don't ever let go o' him," Dorothy urged.
"He must make up his own mind," she knew her
husband. "And somehow I must accept what he
decides."
"Don't sound like the strong-willed Michaela I
know," Dorothy smiled.
"In some matters, I cannot ask my husband to do
as I wish," she handed her friend a steamy cup.
"Much as I want him here with the children and
me, I know that he must go where his heart tells
him."
Dorothy blew across the top of the cup to cool the
contents, "That man loves ya more than life itself."
"Cloud Dancing loves you, too," Michaela pointed
out.
54
Dorothy's cheeks reddened, "Hope I didn't shock ya
with what I told ya earlier."
"Shock me?" she had forgotten.
"When I told ya I wanted t' be intimate with Cloud
Dancin'," her friend reminded her.
"I... I guess I was caught a bit off guard," Michaela's
Victorian upbringing took effect.
"All I wanted was this one night with him," Dorothy
needed to talk.
Michaela placed her hand over Dorothy's, "I won't
judge you for that."
"Instead, he left me," she saw his letter sitting on
the table.
Michaela considered her words, "I think he did not
want to have the people whom he loved in
danger."
"That wouldn't have endangered him," the redhead
was puzzled.
"Had your relationship moved to that level, it might
have made it more difficult for him to leave," she
continued. "Consummating the love between a
man and woman changes everything."
"But it changes things for the better," Dorothy
countered.
"As much as I loved Sully before we were married,"
Michaela attempted to express herself. "Once
we.... gave ourselves to each other in that way, I
felt one with him. I worried more when he was
away. I.... craved that part of our relationship. He
became part of me."
"An' you're sayin' Cloud Dancin' wanted us t' not
reach that point," Dorothy was beginning to
understand.
"Yes," she said. "And I believe another reason that
he left was to prevent Sully's having to make the
choice between his family and his best friend."
At that moment, Sully entered the house and
looked at them. His expression beckoned Michaela.
Excusing herself, she went to him. He pulled her
around to the other side of the fireplace, hidden
from Dorothy's line of vision.
"Sully?" she caressed his face.
"I made up my mind," he rested his hands on her
waist.
************
At the Clinic, Brian and Dr. Kelly each occupied a
different recovery room, as they soundly slept.
John St. Helen sat up gingerly in bed. His strength
was not yet fully recovered, but he knew that he
could no longer remain in Colorado Springs. Not
after his confession. It would be best if he changed
his name and moved on.
As he pulled on his shirt, he thought about names.
Then he spotted a newspaper which the professor
had left on the nightstand. Opening it, St. Helen
began to read. There was the list of fallen soldiers
of the Seventh Cavalry at Little Big Horn.
"Humm," he closed his eyes. "Maybe these fellows
can be of help."
He pointed to a name and opened his eyes to look.
"David E. Lewis, Sergeant," St. Helen spoke the
name above his finger. "Well, that's all right for a
first name, but I prefer.... Why not the good leader
himself for my last name? David E. George. Yes.
Unobtrusive. It will do quite nicely."
Completing the task of getting dressed, the man
made his way past his sleeping caretakers and
down the steps.
55
************
Chapter 15
************
Michaela attempted to remain calm, "What have
you decided?"
"I'm stayin' here," he replied.
She could breathe again, "Are you certain?"
"I know this is where I belong," he pulled her
closer. "Cloud Dancin' said in his letter that I was
needed here with you an' the kids. He said he
couldn't live with himself if he was the cause of
separatin' us again."
"Oh, Sully," she threw her arms around his neck. "I
love you so much."
"I love you, too," he hugged her. "Even without his
advice in the letter, I couldn't go away like this.
He's my friend, my Cheyenne brother, an' I'll
always pray for his safety, but... you're my heart,
Michaela. You're the reason I look forward t' each
day."
"I don't want you to have any regrets about
staying," she searched his eyes.
"I gotta believe that Cloud Dancin' is doin' the right
thing for the right reasons," Sully rubbed her arms.
"An' I know he'd want me t' take care o' Dorothy.
She's gonna have a tough time."
Michaela could not help but marvel at this turning
point in their relationship. She knew that Sully's
heart ached for Cloud Dancing. She was well aware
that he would always feel the draw toward the
Cheyenne, but tonight, safe in her arms, he had put
their relationship above all others. For that, she
closed her eyes to offer a prayer of thanks. And a
prayer for their friend.
"Ya okay?" he lifted her chin.
"Yes," wiped away a tear. "I'd better go help
Dorothy. I'll prepare the spare bedroom for her
tonight."
"Good," he kissed her.
************
"Mama," Katie knocked on her parents' bedroom
door.
Michaela was barely able to open her eyes from
lack of sleep, but she pulled herself up and donned
her robe to open the door.
"Good morning, my darling," she smiled.
"Mornin'," Katie skipped into the room. Then she
lowered her voice to a whisper, "Poppy still
sleepin'?"
"Yes," she sat in the rocking chair and pulled her
daughter onto her lap. "We were up very late last
night."
"Ya were?" the little girl leaned back. "Why?"
"Miss Dorothy came and spent the night," Michaela
informed her. "We talked until quite late."
Katie shifted in her mother's lap. "Did ya know that
when aminals die, they get eaten by ants?"
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Michaela slowly rocked
her.
"It made me sick at my tummy t' see," the child
confessed.
"That's a natural reaction, Sweetheart," she
lovingly placed her hand on her stomach.
"Can't we do somethin' t' make 'em stop?" Katie
inquired.
"To make what stop?" the mother was unsure.
56
"Make the ants stop eatin' the dead aminals," the
little girl clarified.
"No, I'm afraid not," she responded. "It's all part of
the cycle of life."
"Like Poppy's bicycle?" Katie drew a comparison.
Michaela chuckled, "Well, you've seen your Daddy
and Brian ride the bicycle. And did you notice that
the wheels turn around and around?"
"Uh-huh," she nodded.
"Those wheels are a little like the cycle: life, death,
life again," Michaela tried to draw an analogy. "All
living creatures are born, live, die, and return to
the Earth, but while they live, they produce more
animals to live on after them, so that life
continues."
"That why you an' Poppy have Joey an' me?" she
reasoned.
"Well...." Michaela did not quite know how to
respond. "It's a little different for people."
"Why?" Katie was not yet satisfied.
"Your Daddy and I had you because...." she
hesitated.
"Because it's one way a man an' woman show how
much they love each other," Sully spoke from the
bed.
"Poppy!" Katie slipped from her mother's lap and
jumped up on the bed to kiss him.
He rubbed his daughter's back, "We had you an'
Josef 'cause o' how much we love each other. An'
lovin' you makes that love grow even more."
"The way you two love, ya oughta have lots o'
kids!" Katie concluded.
"Katie!" Michaela blushed.
Sully laughed and pulled his little girl closer for a
kiss. Suddenly, they heard the front door slam.
"Who could that be?" Michaela turned.
"I go see," Katie volunteered.
"No," the protective mother reminded her. "You
know that you are not permitted to open the front
door by yourself."
"Mama," Katie put her hands on her hips. "The
door was already open. Somebody shut it loud."
Brian appeared at the door, "I'm glad you're up."
"Bran!" the little girl rushed to her older brother.
"Glad t' see ya!"
He lifted her into his arms, "Glad t' see you, too,
Katie."
"Has Mr. St. Helen taken a turn for the worse?"
Michaela assumed.
"He left while we were sleepin'," the young man
stated. "Last night, he re-.... re-...."
"Re- what, Bran?" Katie thought he was playing a
game. "Re-Turn? Re-Move?"
"Shhh," Sully winked at his daughter.
"Recanted," Brian suddenly remembered the word.
"He recanted his story about bein' John Wilkes
Booth."
"What does Dr. Kelly think?" Sully wondered.
"He thinks St. Helen was feelin' better an' no longer
thought he was gonna die," the young man set his
sister down. "So he didn't want folks t' think he's
really Booth. Do you think he could be?"
"There was very compelling evidence," she nodded.
"But not enough to alert the authorities."
"What if we tried t' find him?" Brian contemplated.
57
"And then what?" she responded. "We cannot
force him to come back. We cannot prove that he
assassinated the president. He could claim that his
confession was the effects of his fever."
"What's assinated?" Katie picked up.
"Assassinated," Michaela enunciated. "It's an
attack against someone by surprise. The word
usually refers to an attack on a prominent person
such as the president of the United States."
"Dr. Kelly's thinkin' about contactin' the Booth
family," the son noted.
"I don't know if that would be wise either," she
folded her arms. "I think the man wants to be left
in peace."
"If he's really John Wilkes Booth, what kinda peace
is he gonna find?" Sully contributed. "He's always
gonna be on the run, changin' his name. He can
never return t' his family."
"But if he's Booth, he should be punished," Brian
was adamant. "It means the man who killed the
president got away with murder."
"I doubt if we'll ever know the truth, Brian,"
Michaela put her arm on his shoulder.
"Then the history books could be lyin'," he looked
down.
"Ain't nothin' new there," Sully was sarcastic.
"When kids in the future read about what we lived
through, it won't be the way things really were," he
felt sad.
"I reckon that's why it's important t' talk to older
folks," Sully figured. "They can tell us what things
were like in the past. Katie here wasn't around for
the Civil War, but she can talk t' us t' learn what we
went through. Then she can tell her children an'
grandchildren someday."
"I have grandchildren?" Katie's eyes widened.
"Not for a while, Kates," he grinned.
************
It was sunset on the day that both Cloud Dancing
and John St. Helen had left Colorado Springs, and
both men faced uncertain futures.
Michaela and Sully sat with their children on the
porch of the homestead.
Matthew broke the stillness of the evening, "No
luck with my law books t'day. But I'm goin' t'
Denver next week. I'll check out some more books
there."
"Thanks, Matthew," Sully held Josef on his lap.
"Is Miss Dorothy gonna be okay?" Brian thought
about her.
"I'm certain that her book will keep her busy,"
Michaela speculated.
"I'll help her all I can with the Gazette," he offered.
"Tell 'bout your trip t' Phildelpea," Katie requested.
"Colleen an' Andrew are gettin' along real good,"
Brian began. "An' Colleen's startin' t'.... look
different."
"Different?" Michaela questioned.
"More mature," Matthew reworded it. "More like a
grown woman."
Michaela felt a twinge of sadness, "She is a grown
woman now."
"What about the Centennial Exhibition?" Sully
changed the subject.
"We spent a lot o' time at Machinery Hall,"
Matthew smiled. "Remember that man, Mr.
Watson, we met in Boston?"
58
"I recall your mentioning him," Michaela answered.
"His associate, Mr. Bell, demonstrated this new
machine called a telephone," Brian's voice became
excited. "Ya can talk t' people real far away on a
line, like a telegraph wire."
"How can voices be transmitted along a wire?"
Michaela queried.
"I'm not sure," the young man shrugged. "But it
works."
"An' they had this real big engine," Matthew said.
"2500 horsepower."
"That's hard t' believe," Sully stroked Josef's soft
hair.
"It was all s'posed t' show how far the United
States has come in its first 100 years," Brian
informed them.
"How far we've come," the mountain man shook
his head.
"Wonder what it'll be like 100 years from now?"
Matthew speculated.
"1976?" Michaela spoke the year. "I can't imagine."
"Bet the telephone will still be around," Brian
projected. "An' I bet everyone has one."
"That's where your grandchildren come in, Kates,"
Sully looked at his daughter. "They'll be here for
the 200th birthday o' the United States."
Matthew chuckled, "Maybe one of 'em will be
president."
"No," Katie was certain. "Not want 'em t' be
assinated."
"I doubt if another president will ever be
assassinated," Brian reasoned. "I'm sure they'll
protect him lots better by then."
"Well," Matthew stood up. "I best be gettin' back t'
town. 'Night."
"And I know some children who are long overdue
in bed," Michaela warned. "Come on."
************
"Jake came to see me at the Clinic today," Michaela
brushed her hair.
"He not feelin' good?" Sully asked. "Or is it Miss
Teresa?"
"No," she replied. "They're fine. He came to see me
because he had met John St. Helen and thought he
resembled John Wilkes Booth."
"What did ya tell him?" Sully removed his shirt.
"I told him the man had left town," she took off her
robe and draped it across their bed.
Sully climbed into bed and pulled down the covers
for her. After lowering the lamp, she joined him
and slipped comfortably into his embrace.
"Sully?" she spoke low.
"Mmm?" he caressed her shoulder.
He traced the outline of her jaw, as he recited:
"Love in her sunny eyes does basking play;
Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair;
Love does on both her lips forever stray;
And sows and reaps a thousand kisses there."
"What that Herrick?" she guessed.
"Abraham Cowley," he kissed her sweetly. "Good
night, my friend."
"Good night, my family," she rested her head
against his shoulder.
As sleep began to claim them, their thoughts
drifted to Cloud Dancing, the Cheyenne medicine
man who meant so much to them.... the friend
who was very much responsible for their being
together. He had left them, for who knew how
long?
Sully inhaled the scent of his wife and was suddenly
filled with peace. At that moment, he somehow
sensed that Cloud Dancing would find his way. He
would be safe. How could he know this, he
wondered. Michaela had said it. Faith.
THE END

"Are you all right?" her hand rested on his heart.

"I'm okay," he simply stated.

"You can tell your best friend, you know," she

curled the hair of his chest around her finger.

He ran his hand up and down her back, "I'll be fine,

Michaela. Honest."

"I wish there were something I could do or say to

take away your concern," she lifted up on her
elbow to gaze into his eyes.

"You do that every day," he smiled.

She leaned closer and kissed him, "I love you."

59
EPILOGUE
The graphic descriptions of the battle of Little Big
Horn were taken from actual Indian accounts.
George Armstrong Custer disobeyed written orders
and paid no heed to reports of the extent of the
Indian encampment. Dividing his small number, he
left himself with 250 men. Attacked by Chief Gall,
Chief Two Moons and Crazy Horse, leading
somewhere between 2,000-4,000 braves, Custer
and his men were quickly annihilated. Only the
Indian scout Curley and a horse belonging to
Captain Keogh escaped alive. Among the dead,
now buried at Arlington National Cemetery, was
Sgt. David E. Lewis.
Custer's death might have dropped into oblivion
instead of the history books, had it not been for its
national repercussions. The nation was infuriated,
and the Army was finally free to fight an all-out
war. Within a year, thanks to Custer's "last stand,"
the Sioux were a broken, defeated nation.
The story of John St. Helen was true. In early 1877,
he thought himself near death and confessed his
identity to a young Texas lawyer named Finis L.
Bates. The physical similarities to Booth and his
explanation of how he escaped in "Language of the
Heart" were as Bates told them in his book.
medical men and criminalists in Chicago. The panel
concluded that all of the evidence indicated it was
indeed John Wilkes Booth, but only tabloids
printed the conclusions, and their findings were
discredited.
Otto Eisenschimil released a book in 1937 titled
"Why Was Lincoln Murdered?" He produced a vast
amount of documentation that suggested
Secretary of War Edwin Stanton was the ringleader
of the plot to kill Lincoln and arranged for Booth's
escape. Another historical volume published that
year was "This One Mad Act" by Izola Forrester, a
descendant of John Wilkes Booth. She said that her
family was in contact with Booth for a generation
after 1865.
In 1994, members of the Booth family and some
historical researchers petitioned for the
exhumation of Booth's body from The Green
Mountain Cemetery. Their petition contained
credible evidence questioning the conclusion that
he had died in 1865. In spite of a well-documented
legal argument, the court denied the exhumation
request. The mummy has not been seen since the
1970's.

St. Helen recovered, and by 1878, the two men

went their separate ways. In 1903, Bates received
word that a man named David E. George had
apparently committed suicide in Oklahoma. The
man's personal papers bore Bates' name, and the
word was spread that the deceased confessed to
being John Wilkes Booth. After viewing the body,
Bates declared that it was his old friend St. Helen,
and he instructed the mortician to mummify the
remains.

The mummy was later exhibited throughout the

United States during the early part of the 20th
century. Bates published a book in 1907 titled "The
Escape and Suicide of John Wilkes Booth." In 1931,
the remains of David E. George were X-rayed,
operated on and otherwise examined by a group of

60