Sully suddenly felt as if his legs wouldn't hold him up.  Instinctively he reached out to grab the bedpost with his other hand.

     "How is she?"  he said unevenly.

     Instead of replying to his question, Andrew said quietly, "Let's step out into the hall."

     Sully and Rosalind shared a fleeting, anxious look.  Sully bent over and kissed Katie's forehead,  then slowly followed Rosalind and Andrew out of the room.  The two army guards backed up slightly to let them pass, and then, after a telling glance from Andrew, walked a discreet distance away down the corridor.

     “How is she, Andrew?" Sully repeated more strongly, his senses attuned to the young doctor's troubled manner.  Adrenaline was pumping through him, making his heart race, and sending sharp jabs of pain throughout his body and extremities.

     "I was able to remove the bullet," Andrew began.  "Fortunately it didn't pierce any of the major organs.  However, it nicked a branch of the splenic artery, which is what caused the massive bleeding."  He paused.  Sully and Rosalind were watching him intently.  "I repaired the laceration to the artery," he added, then paused again, seemingly uncertain of how to continue.

     "But . . . ?" Sully interjected, recognizing that something vital remained unspoken about Michaela's condition.

     "I'm—concerned about the blood loss," Andrew confessed reluctantly.  "Michaela is stabilized for now, but her blood pressure is dangerously low.  I'll need to monitor her condition closely.  The next several hours will be critical."

     "Are you sayin' that she . . ." Sully was unable to finish.

 "I'm hopeful that Michaela's body can manufacture a sufficient amount of blood to replace what was lost," Andrew answered.  "But it will take time."
 
     "And what if she can't make enough?" Sully asked apprehensively.

     "There's no reason at present to believe the worst," Andrew said carefully, retreating behind the bland, innocuous phrases that doctors so often used to placate patients and their families.  "We'll watch and wait for now, and see what happens."

     "I need to know, Andrew," Sully persisted.  "What if Michaela can't make enough blood on her own—what then?"

     "IF Michaela's blood pressure remains critically low—and there's no reason to believe at this stage that that will be the case," he added hastily, "then—we would need to consider the possibility of a transfusion.  But Sully, it's really too early now to have that discussion.  Let's wait and see how Michaela does in the next twelve hours."

     Sully finally accepted that Andrew was unable or unwilling to say any more for now.  "Can I see her?" he asked quietly.

     "Yes," Andrew replied.  "Jake and I moved her to the empty recovery room downstairs."

     Sully turned to Rosalind.  "Do you want to come with me?" he asked.

     "I'll see her shortly," Rosalind told him.  "This time is for you, my dear, and for your children."

     "Matthew and Brian—I didn't even think to ask—where are they?" Sully said, unnerved by his inability to think about anything or anyone but Michaela.

     "I left them waiting outside,' Rosalind answered.

     Sully turned back to Andrew.  "Do they know the operation is over?" he asked.

     "Jake told them," Andrew said.  "And I'll speak with them as well, after I treat Dorothy.  But I wanted to see you first.

    " I do have one other piece of news," he added.  "Horace came by just as I was coming up to speak with you.  He received a reply from Colleen—she'll be here on tomorrow morning's train."

     "Thanks for lettin' me know," Sully said.

     Andrew nodded.  "If you will excuse me, I need to attend to Dorothy now and give Marjorie the news," he said.

     "May I go with you?" Rosalind asked.  "I want to look in on Marjorie—she must be quite frantic.  And I would like to visit Mrs. Jennings, as well."

     "Certainly," Andrew replied.

     "Andrew," Sully said.

     The young doctor turned back to him.

     "I want to thank you—for everythin' you done," Sully said.

     "Of course," Andrew said.  "Let me know if there's any change in Michaela's condition.  She will probably remain unconscious for some time yet, but if she should awaken—“
 
     "I'll tell you right away," Sully finished for him.

     "I'll be nearby if you need me," Andrew told him, and walked down the hall toward Dorothy's room.

     "Give Michaela my love," Rosalind said to him softly, and went after Andrew.

     Sully took several deep breaths, then walked the opposite direction toward the stairs, as the soldiers followed.

* * * * * * * * * *

     Sully eased open the door of Michaela's room and noiselessly stepped inside.  Silently he crossed the room to the side of the four-poster bed, and looked down at the sleeping figure of his wife.

     The first thing that caught his eye was the warm copper-brown of her hair, which contrasted sharply with the white of her pillow, and provided one of the few bright spots of color in the otherwise drab room.

     Michaela's lashes were like smudges of soot against her pale cheeks.  Her lips, nearly as pale, were slightly parted.  Sully strained his eyes to see if she was breathing—after a second or two he was rewarded by the slight rise and fall of her chest.   Still not convinced, he bent his head close to hers, and felt the warmth of her shallow breath against his cheek.

     Tears began to gather in his eyes, and impatiently he wiped them away with the back of his hand.  He looked around the room, and spotted a chair against the wall opposite the door.  Quickly and quietly he retrieved the chair, and carefully placed it by the side of the bed.   He sank down in the chair, feeling the physical and emotional exhaustion of the last several hours weighing him down like an anchor.  The rush of adrenaline that had surged through him just minutes ago had dissipated, leaving him feeling more worn out and defenseless than ever.

     Michaela wore a loose, faded blue gown, its color nearly blending in with the white of the sheet that covered her.  The top buttons were unfastened, no doubt to allow Andrew easy access to her wound.  Sully could just discern the edge of a bandage peeking out from beneath the open halves of the gown.

     The sheet and blanket were pulled up to just above Michaela's waist. Carefully Sully turned down the covers, and gingerly lifted the material of Michaela's nightgown to get a better look at the site of her injury.  The size and bulk of the bandage chilled him, but he tried to reassure himself that the worst was over, and now she would begin to heal.

     Tenderly he replaced her covers, then gently slipped her hand from beneath the sheet and clasped it within one of his.  He pressed her hand to his lips, as, with his other hand, he softly caressed her face.

     "I'm here, Michaela," he whispered.  "I'm right here with you and I ain't goin' anywhere--I promise. You made it, Michaela.  Andrew got the bullet out, and fixed the artery.  He did a good job—you'd be proud of him.   You're gonna be fine, Michaela.  All you need is plenty of rest, and you're gonna be just fine.

     "No need to worry about the kids," he assured her, trying to sound cheerful.  "I knew you'd be askin'.   Marjorie's takin' care of Katie, and Matthew's lookin' out for Brian.  Colleen will be here tomorrow.

     "Dorothy's gonna be all right, too.  She's got a cracked rib and she's gonna be sore for a while, but she'll be fine.  Cloud Dancin' found us in the clearin'," he said.  "The spirits told him what happened to you.  He helped me bring you and Dorothy to town.

     "Rosalind's here," he added.  "And everybody in town is prayin' for you—Loren, the Reverend, Grace and Robert E.—even Hank.  He's doin' everything he can to find the man that shot you.  I gotta say I was shocked that Hank was willin' to believe me about what happened—but I'm grateful.  And  Jake—Jake helped Andrew operate on you!  He really came through—just like he helped  when you operated on Brian the time he fell from the tree.

     "You got so many people who love you Michaela--all of us, and all your friends and patients.  But nobody who loves you as much as I do.  You gotta get well, Michaela--for me, for the kids, for everybody."

     Sully closed his eyes and pressed Michaela's hand to his chest, over his heart  The tears started to come again, but this time he didn't fight them.

     "I was so scared, Michaela," he whispered brokenly.  "More scared than I ever been in all my life.  When I heard you in my mind—when I felt your pain—I nearly went crazy.  I called out to you  too—could you hear me?  I hope so—I hope you knew I was comin', and then maybe you weren't so afraid."

     The tears trickling unheeded down his cheeks, he bent over and kissed Michaela's lips.  They were still slightly cool against his, though not so cold as before.

     "I love you, Michaela," he whispered in her ear.  "I love you so much.  I just—I can't lose you.  I can't.  You gotta fight—promise me you'll fight to get better."

     Gently Sully put Michaela's hand down on the coverlet.  He put his arm over her body and laid his head on her breast, carefully avoiding her injury.   His eyes closed and he held her in his embrace as the shadows lengthened in the room and the sun slipped toward the horizon.