"Yeah … but ya got a little gravy on ya chin," smiled Sully as he leant across to wipe it off with his napkin. "Had enough?"

"Enough!" exclaimed Michaela. "If I had any more I’d burst!"

The two of them were sitting, surrounded by family and friends, at Grace’s caf�, enjoying the last of their Thanksgiving dinner. The past few days had been hectic, a little tense, and oh so rewarding.

Michaela glanced across at Colleen and Andrew sitting opposite them. She would never forget Colleen’s face when the last box of belongings had been moved into their new quarters at the clinic this morning. She knew that feeling! At last somewhere to call home. She’d felt like that about the old homestead. Ramshackle and meagre as it was, it had been home from the moment she’d agreed to rent it from Sully. And now she saw the same light in her daughter’s eyes. It didn’t matter to Colleen that she and Andrew might only live at the clinic for a year or so before going off to Philadelphia. The new rooms meant home. Colleen had played a part in their design and toiled alongside the townspeople during the last five days to have the work completed by today – Thanksgiving.

In his turn, Sully’s eyes were roaming over the many familiar faces around them. The last few days had been a revelation to him as the entire town had eagerly pitched in to complete the clinic additions by this morning. He’d actually enjoyed working side by side with Hank (who, he’d discovered, was the little bird who’d alerted the town to his disappointment over not being able to finish the clinic), Jake and Teresa (who’d obviously swallowed her misgivings about Michaela as a doctor – well at least for this project), Aidan and Rachel Darcy (who’d spent hours hobbling around leaning on her stick, dispensing drinks to the thirsty workers), Loren (who’d been keen to show that he was not too old to do his fair share and ended up miserably tired as a result), Horace (who’d quietly gone about his work without fuss) and many other townspeople, all of whom had entered into the project enthusiastically, determined to have something good come out of this time of sad memories.

Sully leaned back and sighed with pleasure and satisfaction. If someone had told him ten, even five years ago, that he’d feel this pride, this protectiveness for his family, his home, his town, he’d probably have scoffed at them. He glanced at his beautiful, pregnant wife seated next to him. How she’d changed the way he looked at the world! He smiled and had to mentally restrain himself from reaching out to touch her, to draw her closer. An insistent tug on his sleeve drew his attention to his tired, little, blond-haired daughter demanding to be picked up. He lifted her up into his arms, his heart almost bursting with love for this little moppet who made him feel weak at the knees just by loving him. He cuddled her in close to his chest.

"You look happy," whispered Michaela against his ear.

"Mmmm … guess I am," whispered Sully in return, again having to stop himself from leaning across to kiss her, and then hugging Katie in her stead.

"Love you too …," Michaela whispered knowingly, in a voice only he could hear.

"Come on you two …. A couple that’s bin married for more’an three years, has one baby, an’ another on the way, aint got a right to look at each other like that," teased an embarrassingly observant Grace from her place across the long, dish laden table. Michaela blushed and even Sully looked momentarily sheepish, until Grace added, "I’m only teasin’." She leant across a little closer and added conspiratorially, "Don’ think you two’ll ever change … or I hope ya won’t."

Michaela, just for a moment, leant her head on Sully’s shoulder and then reached across to brush a wisp of fine golden hair back off Katie’s forehead. The little girl was now laying sound asleep in her father’s arms, the day’s events finally having caught up with her. Michaela raised her head again, and as an interesting sight caught her eye, murmured, "Talking of looks …." She indicated with a slight nod the young couple seated down the long table from them.

Matthew and Kathleen were deep in animated conversation, their focus only on each other. Their conversation was occasionally broken by little bursts of companionable laughter or giggles and occasionally Matthew would unconsciously rest his hand on Kathleen’s sleeve. Something Matthew said caused Kathleen to look up into his blue eyes in surprise and then coyly drop her own to the tabletop, a slow blush suffusing her skin.

As they watched this intimate little exchange between the two, Michaela’s hand crept into Sully’s and, when he turned to look at her, she smiled indulgently and he knew, as if she had said the words out loud, what she was hoping. "Give ‘em time Michaela," he advised quietly.

"I know …. but its been a long time since I’ve seen Matthew look as happy …. And if Kathleen feels compelled to return to Charleston …. he’ll have missed out again," she sighed.

"Oh … I dunno ….. you went back to Boston," whispered Sully. "Depends how much ya love someone ….. distance don’ have to put a stop to things. I kinda think Kathleen’d like to stay in Colorado Springs anyway."

"Oh I’m sure of it …. she told me so …. But Thomas is being more and more insistent about her returning …. and now that Thanksgiving’s over ……," mused Michaela.

"We’ll just haveta let ‘em work it out for themselves Michaela …. Matthew’s got a good head on his shoulders …… an’ we shouldn’t interfere."

"I know …. but I’d hate to see him unlucky in love again …. He deserves someone to love him for himself ….. and for that matter so does Kathleen," replied Michaela maternally.

"Well, we’ll just wait and see what happens. Meanwhile its probably time to get this tired little girl home," murmured Sully, as he bent and placed a kiss on Katie’s brow and then looked up in time to see Michaela yawn. "Maybe its time to git both my tired girls home …," he smiled.

"Mmmm … its just hit me all of a sudden …. Its been a busy week you know …. I’ve never treated so many people for blisters, banged thumbs, sore muscles or splinters." She chuckled and then paused, her eyes slowly panning the large assembled group. "But I think its all been well worth it," she murmured softly and contentedly.

"Think you’re right ….," agreed Sully with a smile. "Come on …. I’ll start gittin’ everyone movin’ an’ you start sayin’ your goodbyes …."

Late one morning, early the following week, Michaela sat completing a patient record, almost counting the minutes until Andrew would take over. She’d arrived early, intending to catch up on some unfinished paperwork, only to be confronted by a steady stream of patients all suffering from the extreme cold which had hit around Sunday and not let up. Sully had even mentioned a couple of times that it felt like snow, but then had doubted himself, as it was very rare to see snow this early in the season.

Thankfully, the rush of patients had gradually dwindled, and she’d at last been able to get back to the never ending paperwork. She finished one file, put it aside and picked up the next. Ah … Mr Finney again …. his arthritis always played up when the cold weather arrived. She began to write and then paused as, for the life of her, she could not remember even treating Mr Finney this morning. She sighed in frustration and despite this had to smile, albeit worriedly. She’d read that some women experienced periodic memory loss during the late stages of pregnancy. Heaven forbid if that was to occur in her case! Most of her patients were very understanding while she was pregnant, but a misdiagnosis, or prescribing an incorrect remedy, might damage her credibility, pregnant or not. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and concentrated, and the details came back to her as she’s hoped they would. This time she sighed in relief.

Finally she dotted the last I and crossed the last T, and gathered her files together to be put away in the cupboard next to her desk. She glanced up at the clock, only fifteen minutes until Sully would come by and they would go to lunch at Grace’s before heading back to the homestead. She absent-mindedly caressed her expanding middle and smiled.

She was brought abruptly back to the present by a sudden, tentative knocking on the clinic door. Her brow creased and then she groaned resignedly. Oh well, she could cope with one more patient before lunch. She walked across and pulled the door open to reveal Horace Bing on her doorstep.

"Ah …. Dr Mike," he said hesitantly. "I know its late …. but I wondered if I could speak to ya for a moment."

"Of course Horace," she said reassuringly. "Come in …. are you ill?"

"No ….. I ….. I ….. just wanted to talk to ya about somethin’ …. If you’ve got the time."

Michaela had always had a soft spot for Horace. In her hardest times, he’d always been supportive and had often displayed a kindness and tolerance which was not as apparent in some of the other townspeople. She beckoned him to the chair beside her desk. "Of course I’ve got the time …. sit down and tell me what’s worrying you." It was obvious that Horace was deeply concerned or upset about something. His skin was too pale, his forehead was creased in anxiety and Michaela even noticed his hands shake. He folded his lanky frame into the wooden chair and then dropped his eyes to the floor. She waited patiently for him to begin and when, after some time, he didn’t, she said quietly, "Horace?"

Horace’s eyes slowly rose from the floor and when they met hers she was shocked to see tears forming in them. Again she said his name, this time more kindly, "Horace?"

"Dr Mike ….. I …. I dunno where to start …… maybe ya oughta read this ….." From his coat pocket he withdrew a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to her.

Michaela was eyeing him in puzzlement and, accepting the paper from him with some eagerness, she perused its contents. After quickly scanning it, she started again, this time reading and re-reading with the utmost care, her heart dropping and her eyes blurring with tears. At last she raised them to the distressed man opposite her. "Oh Horace," she said softly. "I’m *so* sorry."

By this time Horace had his lip firmly clenched between his teeth, and the tears which had so surprised Michaela, were silently rolling down his cheeks.

Michaela was at a loss to know what to do, what to say. At last, holding the letter out to him, she said softly, "When did you receive this?"

Horace took a few deep breaths and then said dully, "Yesterday …… Spent so much time since then just thinkin’ what I could do ….. I still dunno ….. I can’t take it in ….." His eyes again dropped to the floor.

Michaela felt helpless. As a doctor she’d dealt with such situations so many times and still they overwhelmed her, every time. "Horace …. if there’s anything we can do ….," she offered tentatively, knowing that there was nothing.

To her surprise, Horace’s eyes flew to hers and, holding her gaze and wringing his hands, he tried to arrive at the right words. At last he said, "Dr Mike, I remember ….. a long time ago …… after you an’ Sully came back from Boston …… he told me about ya ma. He said ya went there cos they said she was dying …. had cancer I think he said…. an’ then you worked out she wasn’t …. that it was somethin’ else ….. Aint that right?"

"Well … yes …," she replied slowly, unsure where his thoughts were leading.

"Do ya think that could be the case here?" he asked hopefully.

She noticed he was holding his breath, anxiously awaiting her next words, and she really didn’t know what to say. At last she said quietly, "Horace …. there is always a chance … with any case …. that a condition may be misdiagnosed …… that the symptoms may be misleading …. or indicate one condition when there is actually another present….. However, in the majority of cases the doctor’s knowledge of medicine will point him or her in the right direction. Is there reason to doubt this diagnosis?… Do you know something you haven’t told me, or wasn’t contained in this letter?"

Horace’s shoulders slumped and he swiped at the tears still slowly rolling down his face. "Nah ….. I don’ know anythin’ more than you Dr Mike ….. I guess ya always hope that the doctors could be wrong….. made a mistake."

In a few seconds Michaela’s mind flew back to Boston - to her mother who had been so ill but not dying as the doctors had told her, to the woman she and William had treated who had been diagnosed with consumption and consequently removed from the poor house, only to be later diagnosed with pneumonia. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before trying to reassure the wretched man sitting before her. "There are many good doctors in St Louis Horace …. Its a large city … with a fine medical fraternity ….."

"I suppose that’s right Dr Mike …. But I don’ know ‘em ……. An’ there’s no way Myra could afford to call in more than one doctor … let alone the best." Horace gulped and once again dropped his head.

"So what *are* you going to do Horace …. Have you decided to go to St Louis?" asked Michaela, wondering what was going through this gentle man’s mind.

Horace ran his hand agitatedly through his unruly, black hair and rested his forehead in his hand. "I was gonna hop straight on this mornin’s train ….. had my bag packed an’ all …. Then started to wonder what good I could do ….. just sit by the bed an’ watch her die …. I dunno whether I could do that Dr Mike ….. do ya understand?"

"I understand Horace …. I really do …… but she needs you now …. You should be there ….," murmured Michaela.

Horace nodded, recognising the truth his friend uttered and then again looked gravely into her eyes. He took a deep breath and said softly and unsurely, "Dr Mike …. would you go to her? ….. See if what’s in the letter is true?" As Michaela’s eyes widened in shock at his request, he spoke more loudly and firmly. "I don’ like ta ask …. especially with the baby comin’ an’ all …. But ya know her ….. and *I* know you ……If you say that what the doctor in St Louis is tellin’ her is true, I’ll believe it …. I won’t wanna … but I will. Me goin’ is important like ya said …. but I can’t help her like you can …." He trailed off, almost appalled that he’d finally put into words what he’d been thinking since somewhere around dawn this morning.

There was a very long silence while Michaela contemplated the repercussions of his request. She leant back in her chair and unconsciously played with the wisps of coppery hair which surrounded her thoughtful face. Could she, should she, go all the way to St Louis, just because one of her patients, friends, asked her to, even though there was very little chance of her being able to achieve much when she arrived?

Horace suddenly interrupted her contemplation. "I’d pay for your fare, of course … I aint expectin’ ya to do it for nothin’ …. You’re a doctor ….. an’ I’m askin’ ya to go as one …."

Michaela sighed and asked quietly, "When’s the next train to St Louis?"

"Tomorrow mornin’," he replied eagerly, beginning to believe she might actually go. There’s a connection in Denver …. you’d be in St Louis the evenin’ of the day after."

Michaela’s eyes flew to Horace’s. "You’d be comin’ with me …" she said expectantly.

"No …. I can only afford one fare …. an’ I reckon I’d be puttin’ it to better use for you to go rather than me," he replied calmly.

Michaela shook her head in confusion and indecision. Leaving her family, travelling in her condition …. there was so much to think about. Finally she said, "Horace, Sully’s coming by to take me to lunch at Grace’s in a few minutes. I need to talk it over with him …. I promise I’ll let you know by late this afternoon. Is that alright?"

Horace smiled gratefully. "Sure it is Dr Mike. I know that I’m askin’ ya to do somethin’ I probably shouldn’t …. But after lyin’ awake all night I realised I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least ask. An’ I promise I’ll understand if ya decide ya really can’t go." He stood and held out his hand to her. "Thanks Dr Mike," he said. "For at least thinkin’ about it." He warmly shook her hand and then quietly crossed the clinic and left, leaving Michaela slumped back in her chair, her head spinning.

When Sully came in a few minutes later, it was to find his wife leaning forward, perusing a crumpled piece of paper spread out on the desk before her. She didn’t even hear him enter. "Hey," he said softly. "You seem lost in thought." When she raised her tear-filled eyes to his, his mouth opened in shock and his heart began to pound. "Michaela?" he asked worriedly, crossing quickly to her side and placing his hands protectively on her shoulders. She thrust the piece of paper towards him and he immediately surmised that something had happened to one of her family in Boston. He was almost relieved to see the St Louis postmark and that the letter was addressed to Horace. He quickly read it through and then sat down abruptly on the edge of the desk.

"My God …. poor Horace …..," he said pityingly. "Is he goin’ to St Louis?"

Michaela shrugged her shoulders and murmured, "Maybe."

"Maybe!!"

"He wants me to go in his place," she said in a low voice before raising her stricken face to his.

Sully was flabbergasted. "All the way to St Louis! Why?"

"Because he wants to be sure that what they said is true …. That there really is nothing to be done ….. because he trusts me …." She trailed off, realising how meagre Horace’s arguments really were.

Sully asked quietly. "And what do *you* want to do?"

Michaela shrugged her shoulders. "Myra is a very dear friend …. If she was here I’d do everything I possibly could to make her well ….. Maybe I can help her ….. maybe I can’t ….. and maybe I’d like to try." She looked timidly up at Sully, awaiting his reaction.

But Sully hadn’t finished his questions. "An’ travellin’ all that way ….. that’d be alright … with the baby an’ all?"

"Well apart from the fact that I’d be sitting up all the time …. I’d actually be resting more than I do here …… and in St Louis I’d only be working with one patient." She was speaking more resolutely now.

"An’ what about the kids?"

"Well I have no doubt that Kathleen wouldn’t mind staying on …. And I know Brian and Matthew would give her all the help she needs with Katie ….. besides … you’d .."

"*I’d* be with you," said Sully vehemently. "You aint travellin’ all the way to St Louis … in your condition …. on your own."

Michaela was feeling a little overwhelmed. Although it was still early morning she was aware of a tiredness which made her bones heavy and her head ache. So much had happened in the intervening hours, between Horace’s heartfelt plea for her assistance and their arrival here at the station.

As she’d hoped, Kathleen had been more than willing to stay in Colorado Springs to care for Katie, although Michaela sensed that the young woman was still worried about her brother’s anticipated reaction. And Andrew and Colleen had been very amenable to managing the clinic while she was away. There had been tickets to book, bags to pack, clothes to sort and press, and always in the back of her mind were two totally unrelated, worrying notions. The first, that they were leaving behind their family including their beloved Katie, for an indefinite amount of time, a thought which made her heart heavy and her eyes glimmer with tears. The second, that all her medical knowledge might to be put to the test in St Louis, providing it was not already too late by the time they finally arrived. A lump rose in her throat with the thought.

As Sully and the boys unloaded their luggage from the wagon, Michaela made her way to the station platform and the quiet group waiting to say goodbye.

As she approached, Grace stepped forward and took her friend’s gloved hands in her own. "Now don’ you be worryin’ about ya family here ….." she said softly and reassuringly. "There’s a whole lotta us in town who’ll be keepin’ a watch on ‘em." She drew her friend closer and said sincerely, her eyes shimmering with tears, "It’s a good thing you’re doin’ …. Not just for Horace …. or Myra ….. We’ll be prayin’ for a safe journey an’ that ya can do somethin’ to help Myra when ya git there. Please tell her that …. an’ that I think of her often."

Michaela nodded and squeezed Grace’s hands in her own, for once bereft of words.

Then Grace held out a square wicker basket. "Couldn’ have ya leavin’ on the train without some of my fried chicken," she said with a smile, as she handed it to Michaela who nodded her thanks.

Then Dorothy stepped forward and handed Michaela a small indian spider wheel. "Michaela," she said emotionally. "I want ya to take this with ya …. Cloud Dancin’ made it for me … to keep the evil sprits at bay …. Please carry it with ya … an’ when ya git there …. give it to Myra …. maybe it’ll help ….. I don’ think Cloud Dancin’ll mind."

Michaela looked up into Dorothy’s worried face. "I don’t think he’ll mind at all," she said softly, slipping the wheel into her medical bag.

"An’ you take care of yourself mind ……It’s a long trip to be undertakin’ this far along…," added Dorothy, giving her friend a hug.

"I’ll be alright Dorothy … I just hope I can do something when I get there …. I feel like Horace is counting on me …," murmured Michaela worriedly. "I don’t want to let him down."

"Horace’ll understand whatever happens ….just you agreein’ to go’ll mean more to the two of ‘em than you’ll ever know." She gave her friend another hug and whispered against her ear, "God speed Michaela."

Dorothy stepped away as the children walked up to stand beside their ma and Kathleen handed Katie to her. Michaela clung to her little girl who had yet to realise what was happening. Then she felt an arm creep around her waist and a head drop onto her shoulder. Brian whispered, "Don’ worry about us ma …. we’ll be alright …. You just take care of Myra alright? …. an’ tell her we’re prayin’ for her."

"I will Brian, I will," said Michaela as she gave her youngest son a hug.

Suddenly into her field of vision Horace appeared, dressed in his best Sunday suit. "Ah … we better be boardin’ Dr Mike," he said. "Is there anythin’ I can carry for ya?"

"We!!" exclaimed Michaela. "You *are* coming!"

"Well yeah … Jake fixed it," replied Horace soberly, as he took Grace’s wicker basket of food from Michaela. "Wired to Denver an’ found someone to take over the telegraph office for as long as needed …. an’ then some of the folks helped me out with the fare …. I dunno how I’ll ever repay ‘em."

"We aint askin’ for repayin’," interjected Jake, who had been in the background, listening. "Just thought it was right you should be there … an’ Samantha needs ya too."

Horace nodded gratefully, reached out to shake Jake’s hand and then made his way to the train steps for boarding.

Meanwhile, Sully, making his way to Michaela’s side, was waylaid by Hank who’d been standing back from the others. The barkeep put his hand on Sully’s sleeve and drew him further away from the assembled group. "Ah …. Sully," he began tentatively. "I know we’ve had our differences in the past …. but …. ah …. I wondered if ya could do somethin’ for me?"

Sully nodded, recognising this usually brusque man’s discomfit.

"I … I wondered if ya maybe could wire me an’ let me know how Myra is ….. how she *really* is ….. maybe every other day …. I know it’s a lot to ask …" He trailed off, obviously embarrassed, and then added quickly, "Course …. Horace don’ haveta know …."

"Its alright Hank …. I don’ mind …… I understand ya wanna know …," replied Sully.

"Yeah …. well … she’s the closest thing I got to family after my granma …," Hank murmured.

"I said I understand …. I’ll send ya word," Sully reassured him. "Soon as I know anythin’."

"Thanks … I’d appreciate it." As he spoke, Hank surreptitiously pressed a thick wad of bills into Sully’s hand. "Might come in handy," he said in a low, confidential tone. "For things Myra might need …. an’ you an’ Michaela gonna need somewhere to stay …."

As Sully opened his mouth to protest, Hank spoke again, "Take it Sully … please …. Use it for whatever’s needed."

Sully’s proud eyes narrowed, but as he watched Hank’s anxious face, he suddenly understood. He unobtrusively pocketed the bills and nodded his acceptance and thanks. He started to walk away and then turned back as a thought struck him. "It was you organised for Horace ta go wasn’t it … not Jake?"

The rangy barkeep shrugged his shoulders and then smiled wryly. "He don’ need to know that either," he said, as he turned and mounted the station steps to lean with studied nonchalance against a corner post.

After several more minutes of tearful farewells, Sully and Michaela at last joined Horace in the carriage and the train slowly pulled out of the station. Michaela’s hand was tightly gripping Sully’s and she was unable to hold back the tears. Kathleen held Katie up and Michaela sent her loving kisses as the Colorado Springs station slowly receded into the background.

"Here …," murmured Sully, as he handed Michaela a handkerchief. "Its gonna be alright."

"I know …..I just hate leaving her …… maybe she’ll start to prefer Kathleen to me ….. Kathleen’s been around a lot more than me lately," hiccupped Michaela.

"That aint ever gonna be the case …. she knows ya love her … that we both do …. She aint gonna ever forgit that ….," Sully reassured her.

Michaela looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "Maybe we should have brought her with us?" she whispered.

"We talked about that last night ….. a sickroom’s no place for a toddler …. We agreed."

"I know ….. but she’ll miss us …. we’ll miss her …."

"Yeah …. well that may be the case but these things happen ….. Your pa was away a lot when you were little."

Michaela nodded. "I know," she said softly. "But mother was always there ….." She dropped her head onto Sully’s shoulder.

Deciding it was best to let this contentious matter drop, Sully reached up to gently caress her cheek with his fingertips and Michaela tenderly rested her head in the palm of his hand.

Some time later, Sully leant forward to rest his hand reassuringly on Horace’s shoulder. "You alright Horace?" he asked with concern. Horace, in the seat in front of them, turned back, and said with a slight, grateful smile, "Yeah, I’m alright Sully. We got a long trip ahead of us … is Dr Mike feelin’ alright?"

"I’m fine Horace …. We’ll get through this together," replied Michaela, who had finally regained her composure.

Horace nodded, sighed and turned to face the front again.

Michaela leant forward to pick up her medical bag and withdrew from it the crumpled letter from St Louis. As she had so many times in the past twenty-four hours, she unfolded it and read it through. A few lines jumped out at her ….

    "Im sorry Im to tell ya this Horace … the doc ses Myra is reel sic. He ses shes got a tooma and is gonna die. I dont now wot to do. She jus lys in bed and cant mov. Samantha is reel wuryed about her ma. I thinc ya betta cum.

    Adele."

Michaela sighed, closed her eyes and leaned back against the leather seat. A tumour? Where? How was it diagnosed? Would she be able to help Myra when they arrived? Or would Myra be beyond helping? Myra! Her mind suddenly filled with images of the vital young woman who had captured Horace’s heart and her admiration….. Myra, despite her fear of heights, climbing down the sheer rock face to rescue her when she fell on their expedition up Pike’s Peak…… Myra, standing proudly before Hank proclaiming that she would no longer be held to her contract and walking away, her head held high…… Myra, tentatively offering to help in the makeshift clinic when the influenza struck, despite knowing that her presence would be disapproved of by many of the townspeople…….

Sully caught the dog-eared letter as it slipped from Michaela’s lap, and once again read the fateful words. It was hard to believe that the Myra he remembered could now be fighting for her life. He suddenly saw her standing up for him in front of a group of soldiers, even coercing Hank into attesting to his whereabouts the afternoon the dog soldiers blew up the railway workings…… Or diverting everyone’s attention away from Michaela who she’d recognised had dressed as a man in order to ride Flash in the horse race….. Despite the seriousness of the current situation he smiled, and then sent a heartfelt message to the spirits that Michaela would be able to do something for their friend when they arrived in St Louis.

Late the next afternoon, a very tired Michaela, Sully and Horace arrived in the bustling city of St Louis. The trip had been relatively uneventful except for a worrying moment when Michaela had to rush to the ladies waiting room (one of the less desirable side-effects of her pregnancy) at the St Joseph station and nearly missed the train. Sully had been almost to the point of grabbing their bags and jumping off until she suddenly appeared at a run as the train began to slowly move forward. She’d grasped his hand and he’d pulled her aboard and into his arms where she’d clung to him, panting with relief. Now, having at last arrived at their destination, and as both Sully and Horace had been to St Louis before, Michaela was happy to leave all the arrangements for their disembarking and subsequent travel to Myra’s home to them. She felt so weary that it was all she could do to concentrate on keeping up with them. Her ankles and feet were swollen and sore from sitting up for so long and an over active baby had made her back ache and her disposition less than content.

At last the carriage, which Horace had commandeered at the station, drew to a halt in front of a long line of single storey row houses, all the same shape and size and most the same pale, dingy colour. Their unadorned front doors stood only about six feet back from the sidewalk and were covered by narrow, slate rooved porches. Along the line of the sidewalk were roughly made, wooden fences all in varying degrees of repair, some with gates hanging askew at the hinges.

Horace jumped down from the carriage and turned to hold up his hand to help Michaela down. Sully clambered out the other side and began to assist the driver to unload their bags. Michaela swept her tired eyes over the neighbourhood which had been Myra’s for more than two years. Myra’s home looked just like all the others, though someone had attempted to hang pretty floral curtains in the front window. Michaela’s eye was caught by the house next door. Amidst the drab colours and stone sidewalks, someone had planted window boxes of daffodils, some of which were coming into early bloom. The touch of vivid colour against the varying shades of grey and brown lifted her spirits a little and made her smile.

Horace opened the small gate, walked to the front door and knocked before turning and beckoning them to follow. The three of them waited anxiously, in the crisp, late fall air for someone to answer. Horace knocked again, a little more loudly. Again they waited. Suddenly heavy footsteps could be heard resounding on a wooden floor and the front door was pulled open to reveal a smiling, middle-aged, roundish woman who eyed them quizzically. "Yes?" she asked.

"Ah … we’re lookin’ for Myra an’ Samantha Bing," answered Horace, who was obviously fighting the urge to inquire as to who the woman was.

"An’ you’d be?……" asked the woman. Before Horace had the opportunity to reply, her eyes narrowed, then widened in recognition and she spoke again. "I know you," she said in surprise. "You’re ….. Horace aint it? You’re Samantha’s pa ….. I seen you last time you was here." She held out her hand to the angular telegraph operator. "Come in … come in ….," she exclaimed as she shook his hand and led him into a dim, narrow hallway. Michaela and Sully followed silently behind.

Horace stammered, "Ah …… Mrs ….ah …. I’m sorry … I don’ remember meetin’ you before …."

"Oh I *am* sorry. I’m Molly Burton …… live next door …… The girls call me Mrs B … you can too ….. I’ve bin helpin’ out here since Myra took sick …. with Samantha an’ all," exclaimed the smiling, good-natured woman with a rush. Her eyes suddenly alighted on Michaela, and then Sully, resplendent in his buckskins, and her mouth gaped open in astonishment.

Horace immediately turned to introduce his friends. "Mrs Burton ….. this is Dr Quinn and her husband Sully …. Dr Mike’s come all the way from Colorado Springs with me to see if there’s anythin’ she can do for Myra." As Michaela held out her hand for the woman to shake, Horace continued on worriedly. "How is Myra? Is she here? Is she awake? Can we see her?"

Mrs B’s brow creased in concern. "Aye … she’s here …. an’ not improvin’ any I can tell you." She turned back to Michaela. "I reckon I’ve heard Myra speak of you …. back when she could …. Dr Mike …. heh? She thinks highly of you … and I hope so will I." She nodded towards a closed door. "She’s in there …. has bin for more’an a week …. Just lays there ….. poor little thing ….. I’ve done all I can …. I sure hope there’s somethin’ you can do ….. though Dr Musgrave says there aint anythin’ anyone can ….." Her eyes swept over the three, concerned, new arrivals from Colorado Springs. "Well come on," she said compassionately. "Time you saw her."

"I’ll be lightin’ some lamps for ye, …. so you can see what ya doin’," murmured Mrs B as she bustled around, lifting lamp glasses and setting a match to the wicks.

As the spreading lamplight dispelled the shadows in the room, Myra, covered with a heavy, colourful patchwork quilt, laying quietly wide-eyed in the bed, gradually came into focus. Michaela had to utilise all of her self-control to refrain from gasping. Myra had always been small of stature. In fact she was one of the few adults Michaela had ever encountered who’d made her feel tall. But now? Now she looked like a young girl of twelve or thirteen. She was thin, far too thin, and her long dark brown hair lay fanned out around her elfin face, contrasting dramatically with the white pillow and her pallid complexion. She was watching them intently, her brow creased in surprise. It was obvious she’d recognised Horace first and her eyes widened in delight as he moved quickly towards her.

"Myra honey …. we came quick as we could ….. how ya feelin’?" he asked tenderly, as he knelt down by the bed and reached out to brush her hair back from her forehead with his fingertips.

Myra interlocked the fingers of her right hand tightly with his but did not reply.

"Myra honey?" Horace again questioned, with even more concern.

From the doorway Mrs B spoke quietly. "She can’t answer ya son …. She don’ seem to be able to talk …. doc said it was part of the sickness …."

Horace picked up Myra’s hand and held it reverently against his lips for a moment and then turned imploring, tear-filled eyes on Michaela. "Dr Mike?" he whispered softly.

Michaela walked quietly around to sit on the right side of the bed, opposite Horace. She leaned down and comfortingly laid her palm on Myra’s forehead, gently caressing the young woman’s pale skin with her thumb. Myra looked up at her with eyes which seemed too large for her tiny, gaunt face. Michaela murmured sympathetically, "We came to see you Myra …. to see how you’re doing."

Myra nodded and even smiled, albeit a little lopsidedly. It was then that Michaela realised that the left side of her friend’s face drooped slightly and that her left hand lay uselessly beside her, inert. "Oh sweetheart," she said softly. "We’ll have to see what we can do about this …"

Again Myra smiled forlornly and then her eyebrows rose in a query as she mutely reached out to lay her hand over the swell of Michaela’s stomach. She caressed it tenderly.

Michaela covered the younger woman’s hand and held it against her. "Yes …. I wonder if you knew ….. we’re expecting a brother or sister for Katie …. You’d hardly recognise her now …. she’s grown so much." Observing Myra’s eyes fill with tears Michaela nodded towards Sully. "Sully came to see you too … we’re going to stay in St Louis a little while … to help you recover."

Myra’s eyes closed and her brow creased, then she turned away from them all, shaking her head despairingly.

Michaela rested her hand against Myra’s cheek, gently turning her head on the pillow so that she could gaze intently into the miserable young woman’s eyes. "Myra … please don’t give up …. Tomorrow I’ll speak to your doctor and do a full examination … there must be something I can do to help you. We’re all going to be here for you … me, Horace, Sully …."

Tears were now rolling silently down Myra’s cheeks, but this time she did not turn away. She held Michaela’s gaze and then slowly nodded. She opened her mouth to respond, but only a low guttural sound emerged. A clearly audible gasp emanated from behind Michaela. She spun round to see a red-faced Mrs B holding her hand over her mouth. Michaela eyed her quizzically.

"I…I …I’m sorry doctor ….. I just aint heard her utter a sound for more’an a week … surprised me … that’s all ….. I’m sorry …," stammered the woman.

Michaela began to speak but the abrupt sound of the front door banging shut silenced her. A young woman strode into the room, removing her black cape as she did so. She was brought up short by the presence of the three unexpected visitors and her mouth dropped open in surprise.

To both Michaela and Sully, the identity of the new arrival was unmistakable. Dressed in a white, high-necked blouse, covered by a severe, crumpled, black pinafore, she stood a little taller than Myra, and her hair, drawn back into an untidy bun at the nape of her neck, was a little lighter in colour, but her features were so similar to those of their friend. Michaela rose and with a smile and outstretched hand, approached the puzzled young woman. However Horace, suddenly remembering his manners and duty, rose from beside Myra’s bed and stammered an introduction.

"Um …. Adele …. This is Dr Quinn an’ her husband Sully …. They came with me from Colorado Springs …. ta see if they could help Myra ……." As he spoke Sully moved across to stand beside his wife. Horace turned towards them. "Ah …. Dr Mike … Sully … this is Adele … Myra’s younger sister."

Adele’s face broke out into a wide smile and she moved forward to shake Michaela’s hand vigorously. "Dr Mike!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You’ll never know how many times I’ve wanted ta meet ya …. Myra’s talked about ya so many times … an’ she talks to Samantha ‘bout ya too." She suddenly blushed and lowered her eyes saying softly and sincerely, "Thanks for comin’ all this way … I dunno whether ya can do anythin’ for her ….. but we really ‘preciate ya makin’ the effort …." She turned to Sully. "You too Mr Sully …. It musta bin hard leavin’ ya family an’ all to come."

Sully replied quietly for both of them. "Myra’s our friend Adele …. We wanted to see if we could do somethin’ for her …. an’ you an’ Samantha." He looked from Adele to Horace and back again. "Um … its probably too late for us to be doin’ much here tonight …. Its gittin’ late …. an’ we haveta find somewhere to stay …. alright Michaela?"

Michaela nodded reluctantly. "Yes you’re right …." She turned to Adele. "We all need a good night’s rest, and then Sully and I will come back tomorrow morning – I want to meet Myra’s doctor and then conduct a full examination – with yours and his permission."

"Ya got that Dr Mike ….," stated Adele emphatically. "But Dr Musgrave ….. well he’s kinda busy ….. hasn’ bin in for a few days …. ya might haveta see him at his office …..," she added, a little less surely.

"We can do that Adele ….if you’ll tell us where his office is located. I want details of his diagnosis before I examine Myra," Michaela reassured her.

The young woman nodded gratefully. "Now we betta find ya somewhere to stay. I’d like ta ask ya to stay here … but there just aint room." She turned to Horace. "You’ll be alright sleepin’ on the floor … like ya did last time won’t ya?"

Horace nodded. "I’d like to stay with Myra as much as I can …. an’ Samantha of course …. Where is she? I aint seen her," questioned Horace, suddenly realising that in his anxiety over Myra’s condition he’d neglected to ask about his little daughter.

"She’s probably out back somewhere … she’s gone real quiet since her ma took ill … don’ chatter like she used to ….. I don’ think she understands what’s goin’ on ….. or maybe she does …." Adele trailed off.

"Well I think the best thing to do is for Michaela an’ me to find somewhere to stay … somewhere close if we can … while Horace gits re-acquainted with Myra … an’ Samantha," suggested Sully, worried about the tiredness etching its lines into Michaela’s face.

"I reckon I might be able to help ya there," offered Adele. "I’m a housemaid at a small hotel just a few blocks from here – the Shaw Club, on Olive Street. It aint The Planters House …. but its clean an’ not real expensive …. I could take ya down there an’ show ya." She eyed them hopefully.

"Sounds ideal Adele … thankyou," said Michaela gratefully.

As Adele, Michaela and Sully entered the small foyer of the Shaw Club Hotel they were greeted by a young man in a long, black, brass-buttoned coat. "Adele … ya back?" he inquired with a friendly smile. "Thought you’d finished work for the day." He eyed Adele’s companions curiously, a sardonic grin appearing on his face as he took in Sully’s buckskins.

"I finished my shift at five James …. but these folks here …. Dr Quinn an’ her husband Mr Sully …. have come all the way from Colorado Springs to see if they can help Myra … They need a room ….. a *nice* room …. for a few days. Thought we could look after ‘em here," replied Adele with a smile and faint, self-conscious colouring of her skin.

The young doorman’s eyes widened in surprise. "I’m sure we can," he said immediately. He held out his hand to Sully. "The staff here really like Myra …. She was working in the office, doing the books … til she took sick. And of course we all like Adele. So we’d be happy to take care of folks who’ve come all this way to help them."

Adele’s blush deepened.

Within minutes Michaela and Sully had been introduced to the obliging night manager, registered, and conducted to a largish, comfortably furnished room on the first floor, overlooking busy Olive Street. As James departed, after depositing their luggage at the base of their bed, Michaela sank into the soft mattress wearily, discarding her hat and cape as she did so. "I feel so tired I could curl up and go to sleep right now …..," she murmured as she fought the urge to lie down. "And my feet and legs ache …. It feels as if I’ll never get my boots off."

Sully quickly crossed over to her and bent to undo the laces on her boots which had not been off her feet for more than thirty-six hours. "You aint goin’ to sleep til you’ve had somethin’ to eat Michaela … its bin a long time since lunch." He paused and reached up to gently caress her stomach. "You an’ baby here need ta eat."

"Oh Sully I’m too tired to go out again … I’m not hungry … really," pleaded Michaela, wincing as he tugged at her boots, finally drawing them off and putting them aside.

"Its alright," he said tenderly. "I had a word to James on the way up here…. He said he’d try to organise somethin’ for us here… in the room." He reached up under her skirt and gently peeled her stockings down and off. "Oh Michaela," he whispered, as he perceived her swollen feet and ankles. He began to gently massage them, kneading at the soreness.

Michaela moaned softly in relief. "Mmm … that feels good," she murmured, again in danger of falling asleep as he continued his gentle ministrations.

A sudden knocking at the door of their room brought Sully to his feet and Michaela demurely tucking hers up under her skirt. Sully opened the door to James who entered, bearing a large, heavily laden tray.

"I talked to cook," he said with a smile. "Hope there’s somethin’ here to please you. And don’ worry ‘bout the tray and dishes …. Adele’ll collect ‘em in the morning and take them back to the kitchen."

Both Michaela and Sully smiled at him gratefully. "Hope we didn’t cause you any trouble," said Michaela to the obliging young man.

"No trouble at all," he assured her. "Myra used to help Cook with her ordering for the kitchen. Cook’s real fond of her. She was real glad to hear that you were going to try to help her." He nodded towards the tray. "She even included a couple of treats … thought you might like them."

"Please tell her we appreciate the trouble she took," said Michaela, as James backed towards the door.

Sully turned back into the room after seeing James out and couldn’t help but smile. Michaela had walked across to the laden tray, set on the small table in front of the fire, and was lifting the corners of the covering cloth, peeking at the tray’s contents.

"Thought you said you weren’t hungry," teased Sully.

Michaela started guiltily and dropped the corner of the cloth. "Well ….maybe I am now," she said softly. "Smells good."

Sully strode across and removed the cloth with a flourish. Disclosed was an array of delicious cold food of many varieties. Roast beef, fresh bread, sliced tomatoes and onions, cheese, apple pie, and much to Michaela’s delight, even a bowl of ice-cream. Her eyes alighted on this special treat. "Sully! I haven’t had ice-cream since our honeymoon," she exclaimed, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Well we better eat somethin’ more solid first …. before we get to the ice-cream," he suggested.

Michaela’s face fell a little. "It’ll melt," she said peevishly.

"Not if we eat quickly," replied Sully with a teasing smile. "Sides, our baby needs somethin’ more healthy than just dessert." Noting her tiredness, he cajoled, "Ya wouldn’t let Katie or Brian eat just ice-cream … would ya?"

Michaela finally had to agree with him and picked up the carving knife to attack the cold meat and fresh bread.

Not too much later, Michaela sat back and sighed, licking the residue of vanilla ice-cream from her lips. "Mmmm …. that was good," she murmured, as she tried to stifle a yawn.

Sully was watching her lovingly. The past three days had been a little too emotional and taxing for her, he knew that, and now it was time to sleep. "Time to git ready for bed Michaela," he said softly. "I’ll pack up things here."

Michaela nodded gratefully. "I feel like I could sleep for a week," she said, gingerly rising to her feet and moving towards their bags at the foot of the bed.

When Sully turned back towards her, after stacking the dishes on the tray, it was to discover that she had located her nightgown amongst their belongings, but was now sitting wearily on the edge of the bed with it in her hands, too tired to undress.

He walked lightly over to her and, as he began to remove the pins from her heavy coils of coppery hair, whispered. "Come on, lets git ya into bed." She leaned in towards him, resting her cheek against his white-shirted chest. When the last pin had been removed and her hair had tumbled down over her shoulders, he bunched it to one side and began to undo the long line of buttons down the back of her green travelling gown.

"Sully?" she murmured against his chest.

"Mmmm?" he replied, continuing with the intricate buttons.

"We’ve got a busy day tomorrow."

"Uh huh," as he reached the final button, just below her waistline.

"I want to visit Dr Musgrave first."

"Sure ….," as he began to slip her arms out of the long full sleeves.

"Then I want to initiate half hour observations of Myra."

"Uh huh," drawing the gown forward and then pulling her gently to her feet.

"I’ll need to monitor everything …. pulse ….. sight …. heartbeat …. movement …. I need to know exactly what’s happening to her …."

"I know …. but now its time to sleep …," he murmured, removing her camisole and replacing it with the soft cotton nightgown.

As she climbed up into the soft bed she continued, "I’m worried about Samantha too …. What a terrible time she’s been going through …. and she’s too young to understand."

He pulled the bedclothes up to her chin. "We’ll do somethin’ about that tomorrow Michaela …. now sleep." He bent down and gave her a loving kiss. After extinguishing the lamps and quickly undressing, Sully joined her in the strange bed, spooning himself into her back, expecting that she would already be asleep. But she edged back against him, seeking his touch and warmth. He kissed her lightly on the neck.

"Sully?"

"Mmmm …"

"Thankyou …"

"You’re welcome …."

"I love you …"

Sully raised himself up on his elbow to peer down into her face. "Where did that come from?" he asked softly.

"I was just thinking about Myra. She and Horace love each other … don’t they? Even though they’re divorced?"

He rested his head back on the pillow. "I reckon," he replied softly against her neck.

"Why do you think they couldn’t stay together then?"

"I dunno …. Some people just can’t rub along together ….That’s *their* business I guess … we’ll probably never know …. Maybe they’re too different."

"We were worried we were too different …"

"Yeah … I guess we were …."

"Now I couldn’t imagine what life would be like not having you beside me like this … and sharing everything ….." She reached back to grasp his hand and draw it forward against herself.

"Me neither," he murmured, as he gently caressed the swell of her stomach.

She lovingly stroked the back of his hand and then lifted it to her lips to kiss. She sighed contentedly.