Sully came out on the porch of the clinic and met the eyes of the men who awaited him.  Sgt. McKay regarded him with flinty-eyed detachment.  Hank's eyes were equally hard and unyielding.  Yet, just for a moment, Sully thought he detected a softness—a spark of sentimentality—in Hank's expression.  Not for him, of course, he realized—but perhaps for Michaela.

     Loren and the Reverend sat on the bench outside the clinic door.  Loren avoided Sully's gaze for the most part, but as Sully caught a glimpse of Loren's face, he could see an expression of hurt and betrayal in Loren's eyes that cut him to the quick.

     A respectable crowd of people had gathered in the street as news of Michaela's shooting—and his "resurrection"—had spread through the town.  Sully could feel their eyes, cold and accusing, boring into him.

     "So, Mr. Sully, it seems that the news of your 'death' has been greatly exaggerated," said McKay, his tone stopping just short of sarcasm.

     "So it would seem," Sully said coolly.

     "We have a great many thing to discuss—starting with where you've been and what you've been doing all this time—and whether your 'activities' had anything to do with this morning's raid, and the assault on Dr. Quinn."

     "How's Michaela?" Hank interrupted.  His tone was gruff, but Sully was certain he heard a genuine note of concern in Hank's voice.

     "She lost a lot of blood," Sully answered.  "Andrew's operatin' on her now."

     "What are her chances?" Hank asked.

     "Andrew didn't say," Sully responded bleakly.  "I guess—he don't know yet."

     "I would like to hear exactly what happened to Dr. Quinn and Mrs. Jennings—and what it has to do with the renegade attack," said McKay.

     "I don't know nothin' about the renegades," Sully told him.  "I didn't even know there'd been a raid on the town till Dorothy came to fetch Michaela at the homestead."

     "So Dr. Quinn HAS been hiding you at your home," McKay said triumphantly.  "I suspected as much.  As I need not remind you, Mr. Sully, harboring a fugitive from justice is a federal offense."

     "Michaela has NOT been hidin' me," Sully said clearly.  "I've been on my own.  *I* came to her last night—she didn't have nothin' to do with it."

     "Come now, Mr. Sully—are you asking me to believe that your wife and family had NO knowledge of your whereabouts—or even that you were alive?"

     Sully glared at him.  "I'm tellin' you that everything I've done, I've done on my own.  You leave Michaela and our kids out of it."

     "Sully!"

     Sully and the others turned to see Matthew running toward them from the direction of the livery, with Robert E. and Grace following close behind.

     "Matthew," Sully greeted him as Matthew joined them.  They embraced briefly.  Brian jumped up from where he had been huddled in a corner of the clinic porch and ran to hug his brother.

     "How's Dr. Mike?" Matthew asked urgently.

     "Andrew just started operatin'," Sully told him.

     Just then Robert E. and Grace caught up to the group.

     "Robert E., Grace," Sully said, nodding to each of them in turn.  "It's good to see you."

     "Sully," Grace replied.  Her expression was remote.

     Robert E.'s eyes were warm, if somewhat bewildered.  "It's-it's good to have you back, Sully," he said a trifle awkwardly, giving him a tentative smile.  He extended his hand.

     Sully took it gladly.  He felt undeserving of Robert E.'s kindness, but was deeply grateful all the same.  Though Sully respected the residents of Colorado Springs, and felt guilty that they held him responsible for their troubles, there were only a few people whose opinion he truly valued—and Robert E. was one of them.

     Lying to Robert E. and Loren—or making Michaela  and his children lie for him, he thought bitterly—had been one of the most difficult and shameful parts of his decision to go into hiding.  Once Michaela was better (his mind stumbled over the word, but he refused to consider that she wouldn't recover), he hoped that he would have the chance to make it right with Robert E.—to make him understand that he had lied to protect him.  Robert E. had taken a terrible risk by selling him the horses he supplied to the Indians.  Sully had refused to risk the chance of Robert E.'s part in the escape attempt being discovered.

     Sully squeezed Robert E.'s hand, silently trying to convey his gratitude for Robert E.'s friendship, as well as his regret for disappointing him.  To Sully's relief, Robert E. appeared to understand his unspoken message.  He gripped Sully's shoulder.

     "Grace and me are real sorry to hear about Dr. Mike," he said.

     "Sully, what happened?" Matthew asked.

     "Perhaps NOW you will enlighten us, Mr. Sully?" McKay said.

     Sully gave him a hostile stare, then turned to Matthew and the others.  As dispassionately as he could, he described the events that had occurred since Michaela's departure from the homestead.  McKay and Hank listened without comment. However McKay's expression grew steadily more skeptical the longer Sully talked.

     "Tell me, Mr. Sully," McKay said as Sully finished.  "How did you know that Dr. Quinn was in trouble and needed your help?"

     Sully hesitated for an instant.  "Let's just say I had a feelin'," he replied.

     "You had a 'feeling?'" McKay repeated.  "That's very interesting.  And did you also have a 'feeling' about knowing EXACTLY where your wife and Mrs. Jennings were located?"

     "I tracked them," Sully said coldly.  "It wasn't hard.  There was a clear set of tracks leadin' into the woods."

     "I see," McKay replied.  "This—mysterious assailant—exactly what did he look like?"

     "I didn't see him," Sully said.  "I already told you that.  By the time I reached Michaela and Dorothy, he was gone."

     "Rather convenient, wouldn't you say?" the sergeant asked him.

     "What are you gettin' at, Sergeant?" Matthew said.

     "Well, Mr. Cooper, it's just that it all seems a little too 'neat,' McKay answered.  "We have Mr. Sully, who suddenly gets a mysterious FEELING that his wife is in danger.  He has no idea where she is, yet he succeeds in finding her with no effort whatsoever.  When he locates her and Mrs. Jennings, he discovers that Dr. Quinn has been shot, and Mrs. Jennings assaulted, by an unknown assailant who has conveniently disappeared—so he can't give us a description."

     "Sully told you—Dorothy got a good look at the man—she can tell you what he looks like!" Matthew protested.

     "Mrs. Jennings is a very good friend of yours and your wife's—isn't that true?" McKay asked.

     "Yeah that's true," Sully answered.  "What of it?"

     "I believe she's also a very good 'friend' to Cloud Dancing," McKay added.

     "What are you sayin'?" Sully challenged him, anger simmering inside him at McKay's ugly insinuations.

     "Just that Mrs. Jennings might be all too willing to lie to protect her 'friends,'" McKay said blandly.  "Specifically, in this case, to protect you."

     "Are you sayin' you think Sully shot his OWN WIFE?" said Matthew. "That's crazy!"

     "Mr. Sully has been doing a lot of crazy things the last few months," McKay replied.

     "Pa loves Ma!" Brian said, from the shelter of Matthew's arm.  "He'd never hurt her!"

     "Brian's right," Matthew agreed.  "Sully would give up his life before he'd see any harm come to Dr. Mike."

       Sgt. McKay's expression softened slightly.   "I'm willing to accept that Mr. Sully and his wife care deeply for each other," he said, sounding almost human for the first time.  "I saw what Dr. Quinn went through when she couldn't find her husband after we discovered Sgt. O'Conner's body.  Fact is, I find it hard to believe myself that Mr. Sully would deliberately hurt his wife, or any member of his family.  But there's no telling what a man might do if he's desperate enough.  Maybe it was an accident.  Or maybe he's covering for somebody else.

     "Whether you like it or not, it's my duty to investigate every possibility," McKay went on, "no matter how difficult it may be for the people involved.  We all want to get to the bottom of this.  And you must admit, Mr. Sully, that this latest incident, on top of everything you've already done, makes you highly suspect.

     "I have to caution you, Mr. Sully," McKay warned,  "If you are lying to me about any part of this, or if there's anything you're holding back, you'd better confess it now.  You're already facing treason and murder charges—don't compound your guilt with even more lies."

     "First of all, Sully ain't guilty of murder," Matthew said coldly.

     "Can you prove he didn't kill Sgt. O'Conner?" McKay asked him.

     "Can you prove he did?" Matthew shot back.

     Sully held up his hand.  "Matthew—it's all right," he said quietly.  He stepped closer to Sgt. McKay, so that their faces were just inches apart.  "I did not harm Dorothy Jennings," he said slowly and deliberately, his eyes an icy, wintry blue. "I did NOT shoot my wife.  And the last thing I'd do is cover for the man who did."  He looked at the faces of his sons and his friends.  "But the fact is, Sgt. McKay is right—this is all my fault."

     "What!" Matthew said incredulously.

     "The man who shot Michaela was after me," Sully admitted painfully.  "He knew who I was, and he knew Michaela was my wife.  He was all worked up about the Indian raids—he wanted to pay me back for causin' all the trouble.  Dorothy said he called it 'an eye for an eye.'   He knew the way to hurt me the most was to go after my wife.  And Dorothy was hurt because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and because she tried to help Michaela after he shot her."

     "Sully," Robert E. spoke up.  "You can't blame yourself because some hot-head decided to carry out his crazy idea of frontier justice."

     Sully gaze him a bitter smile.  "Sure I can, Robert E.," he said.  "Because it's the truth."  His shoulders slumped, and he turned away from everyone and walked slowly over to the door of the clinic.  Dejectedly he pressed his forehead against the glass of the window.

     "I'm goin' to talk to Dorothy," Hank announced suddenly.  "Get a description, and have Horace wire it to every sheriff in the territory.  And then I'm gonna track down the murderin' coward who did this and bring him in."

     "You're saying you believe Mr. Sully's story?" McKay asked, incredulous.

     "Sully ain't perfect," Hank stated flatly.  "And  there ain't no love lost between him and me.  He's got a blind spot where the Injuns are concerned, and it's caused me and this town a lot of grief.  But—“ he fixed McKay with a  penetrating stare.  " He ain't no killer.  He don't carry a gun—and he sure as hell would never harm a hair on Michaela's head."

     Shocked,  Sully turned around and stared at Hank.  The others were also regarding him with something akin to amazement.  Even McKay seemed to be somewhat impressed with the saloon-owner's unexpected defense of Sully.

     "I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to wire the surrounding towns, in case this man actually does exist," McKay conceded.  "But we aren't finished here, Mr. Sully.  Fact is, we've barely begun.  I still have lots of questions about your actions at Palmer Creek, and where you've been and what you've been doing since then."

     Matthew had been watching Sully, his face clouded with worry.   Matthew knew how frightened he himself was for Dr. Mike.  And while he couldn't know exactly what Sully was feeling, he figured—recalling what he'd gone through with Ingrid—that he had a pretty good idea.

     "Can't the rest of your questions wait for a while, Sergeant?" he said.  "At least till Dr. Mike's operation is over and we know if she's all right?"  Speaking more softly he added, "You know—give Sully some time . . . ?"

     McKay considered a moment.  "All right," he agreed finally.  "I suppose I can postpone my investigation a few hours.  Regardless of what you may think, Mr. Cooper, I am not entirely heartless."  He looked toward Sully.  Raising his voice slightly he said, "Mr. Sully!"

     Sully slowly walked over to face him.  His face was closed and still.

     McKay unbuttoned the flap of his breast pocket and withdrew a folded sheet of paper.  Opening it, he looked down and read, "Byron Sully, I hereby arrest you in the name of the United States Army on charges of treason and murder.

     "Corporal," he added, addressing one of his men, "Please relieve Mr. Sully of his—‘weapon.'"  He nodded toward the axe protruding from Sully's waistband.  "And make sure he's not concealing anything else."

     "I'll save you the trouble," Sully said flatly, as the army corporal took the axe from him.  Sully raised his hands, to show that his intentions weren't hostile.  Then carefully, he bent down and withdrew the knife from his boot and handed it to the corporal.

     "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Sully," said McKay.  He looked toward Hank.  "Sheriff Lawson, will you please escort the prisoner to the jail, where he shall remain incarcerated until the circuit court judge arrives to conduct his trial."

     "No,” said Sully.

     "I beg your pardon?" said McKay.

     "I ain't leavin' my wife," Sully said flatly.

     "Mr. Sully, you are in no position to be making demands," McKay told him.

     "You heard me," said Sully.  "Look—I turned myself in.  You got me in custody.  You can put a guard outside the clinic.  You can put a guard outside my wife's room.  You can even post a guard to follow me around twenty-four hours a day if that's what you want, but I AIN'T LEAVIN my wife."

     McKay stared at him, confounded at Sully's nerve, yet aware of a sneaking admiration for the man's tenacity.

     "What would be the harm, Sergeant?" Matthew spoke up.  "Like Sully said, you can put guards on him to watch him round the clock.

     "Sergeant," he added, "Sully ain't goin' ANYWHERE."
 
     McKay stood silently, considering.  Finally, he glanced over at Hank.

     "Mr. Lawson, you are the sheriff here—what do you say?"

     Hank's and Sully's eyes met and held for a long moment.

      "Alright by me," Hank said at last.

    McKay refolded the arrest order and put it back in his pocket.  "Very well," he agreed.  "This is highly irregular, but I'll make an exception because of the unusual circumstances.  I'll assign guards to watch the clinic, and a guard to monitor your personal movements.   But be aware, Mr. Sully, that if you should make any attempt to escape you will regret it.

    "Mr. Lawson," he added, "Please wire for the judge at your earliest opportunity."   He drew his men aside and spoke with them briefly, then left the porch of the clinic and walked in the direction of the army tents.  The two remaining soldiers took up positions outside the door of the clinic.

    As Hank turned to leave and question Dorothy, Sully said, "Hank!"

    Hank stopped and turned back.  Sully walked over to him and extended his hand.

    "I just wanted to say—thanks."

    Hank hesitated a moment, then pushed a lock of his long, blonde hair back from his face and took Sully's proffered hand.  They shook briefly, then the bartender opened the second door of the clinic and disappeared inside.

    Sully rejoined Matthew and Brian.  Brian left Matthew's side and put his arms around Sully.  Sully returned his hug, and they began their long wait.