"Just a figure of speech, Sergeant," Sully said affably.  "No offense intended."

     "None taken," McKay replied, coming into the room.  "How is Dr. Quinn today?"

     "She needed a blood transfusion," Sully answered.  "Andrew's doin' it now.  It will be a while before we know if it worked."

     "I see," said McKay.  "Well, I'll be hoping for its success."

     "Thanks," said Sully.

     "In the meantime, you broke off our conversation rather abruptly last night," McKay went on.  "I would like to continue that discussion now, if you don't mind."

     "As a matter of fact we *do* mind, Sergeant," Matthew spoke up.  "Andrew's ordered Sully to get some rest, and I aim to see that he does.  This ain't a good time."

     "I appreciate what Sully is going through," said McKay.  "But with all due respect Mr. Cooper, you seem to forget that I am in charge of this investigation, and Sully is the prisoner—not the other way around.  It's not for the prisoner to dictate when or how he is to be questioned."

     "He ain't--*I* am," Matthew said coolly.  "The past couple of days have been real hard on Sully.  I intend to see that Andrew's orders are carried out and Sully gets some rest, before you bother him with any more questions."

     "You're not the sheriff here any longer, Mr. Cooper.  You have no power to issue me orders."

     "I have the right to protect my client," Matthew stated.

     "Your client?" McKay repeated.  "Am I to understand, then, that you will be defending Sully at his trial?"

     "Hold it!" Sully interjected.  "I think we're gettin' ahead of ourselves.  We're just talkin' for now.  We ain't goin' to trial yet."

     "But Sully—“

     "It's all right, Matthew," Sully placated him.  "I can't use the cot in Michaela's room till Andrew's finished.  I may as well pass the time talkin' with the Sergeant."

     "Sully, you don't need to do this now," Matthew persisted.

     "It's all right," Sully repeated.  "There are some things I need to discuss with the Sergeant anyway."  He raised his eyebrows slightly at his stepson.

     Matthew looked from Sully to McKay, and then back again.  "All right," he agreed reluctantly.  "But I ain't leavin'."  He looked challengingly at McKay.

     "Suit yourself," McKay replied.

     "Byron," said a voice from the doorway to the recovery rooms.

     "Rosalind!" Sully said, crossing the room to her quickly.  "How did it go?  Is Michaela all right?  Is she awake?"

     "Dr. Cook said the transfusion went well," Rosalind replied.  "Michaela appears to be resting comfortably—but she hasn't awakened yet.

     "Don't despair, my dear," she added, seeing the crestfallen look in Sully's eyes.  "Dr. Cook said that it might be a few hours before Michaela starts to respond," she reminded him.

     "You're right," Sully acknowledged.

     "I know the waiting is hard—but I believe there is every reason to be hopeful," Rosalind said encouragingly.

     "Rosalind," Sully began.  "I never thanked you properly for doin' this for Michaela—‘

     Rosalind raised her hand to hush him.  "There is no need to thank me for doing what I wanted to do," she said.  "Let us just pray that it helps."

     Suddenly Rosalind put her hand to her forehead.  Her eyelids fluttered shut and she swayed slightly on her feet.

     "Rosalind—what is it?  Are you all right?" Sully said in alarm.  Instinctively he put his arm around her.

     "I'm just a little light-headed," Rosalind replied, leaning against him.  "It will pass in a moment."

     "You need to sit down," Sully told her.  "Matthew, bring that chair."

     "Sure," Matthew said, quickly pulling Michaela's chair from behind the desk and bringing it over to them.

     "Michaela made me rest after Loren's and Cloud Dancin's transfusions," Sully said, helping Rosalind into the chair.  "She said people can get dizzy after givin' blood."

     "Dr. Cook and Colleen instructed me to rest, as well," Rosalind answered., as Sully found a glass and poured water for her from a nearby pitcher.  "But I was anxious to see you.  I suppose I got up a bit too hastily."  She accepted the glass from Sully and took a sip.

     Sully knelt by her chair, his hand resting on the arm.  "How are you feelin'?" he asked.

     Rosalind patted his hand with her free one.  "Much better, my dear—thank you.  No need to make a fuss—I am quite well."

     Sergeant McKay had been watching their entire exchange with interest.  Rosalind's eyes  drifted to him curiously.

     "My apologies," she said.  "Have I interrupted something?"

     "No," Sully said lightly, standing up.  "The Sergeant and I were just talkin'.  Oh," he added casually, seemingly as an after thought, "I'm sorry, I'm forgettin' my manners.  Sergeant Terrence McKay—Lady Rosalind Sutcliffe."

     "How do you do?" Rosalind greeted McKay politely.

     "I heard in the Gold Nugget that a lady of nobility was visiting here in Colorado Springs," McKay replied.  He touched his hand to the brim of his hat.  "Your servant, Ma'am."

     Rosalind nodded in acknowledgement.

     "Sergeant McKay is the commander of the army camp over in the meadow," Sully said pleasantly.  "He's also the man who arrested me when I brought Michaela to the clinic."

     "Indeed," Rosalind said blandly.  Her eyes narrowed slightly.  McKay shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

     Glancing toward Sully, she said, "Did you tell the sergeant that you are entirely innocent of all the charges against you?"

     "We ain't exactly established that yet," Sully told her.

     Rosalind directed her gaze back at McKay.  "Well I can assure you with the utmost certainty, Sergeant, that Mr. Sully did NOT commit the crimes of which he is accused."

     "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but this is a military matter," said McKay.  "I don't see what your interest is this would be."

     "My interest, Sergeant, is that Byron Sully is my nephew—and it distresses me deeply to see him falsely accused.  I believe it would distress President Grant, as well, were he to hear of this.

     "Did you know, Sergeant, that my nephew once saved the President's life by protecting him from an assassin's bullet?" she asked.

     "Yes Ma'am, I was aware of that," McKay admitted, looking distinctly uncomfortable now.

     "As it happens, the President and I are quite well acquainted," Rosalind said smoothly.   "And Mrs. Grant—such a charming and gracious lady.  I have been privileged to be a guest at the White House on several occasions.  And, at the risk of sounding immodest, I believe I have the President's ear.

     "I wonder what he would say if he knew that the man who saved him from an assassination attempt—the same man on whom he bestowed a full pardon and an honorable discharge from the army—was being unjustly accused and tried of the heinous crimes of treason and murder."

     Sully looked at McKay.  He was clearly flustered by Rosalind's imperious manner, and references to the President.   Nonetheless, Sully could see that McKay did not intend to let himself be totally intimidated.

     "If you wish to petition the President on your nephew's behalf, that is, of course, your privilege,"
McKay said stiffly.  "But for now, Mr. Sully is under arrest and he will be tried in a court of law."

     "You will not prove your case against him," Rosalind said confidently.

     "Well, Ma'am, I suppose that remains to be seen," McKay replied.

     Andrew entered the room.  "Sully—you can see Michaela now," he said.

     "How is she?" Sully asked quickly.

     "Her condition is satisfactory," Andrew told him, falling back on platitudes once again.  Sully didn't waste time trying to elicit more from the cautious young physician this time, but decided to see for himself.

     "Thanks, Andrew," he said, and headed toward the recovery rooms.

     "Sully!" McKay called after him.  "I'll be waiting."

     "What's this about, Sergeant?" Andrew asked.

     "I have some more questions for Sully when he returns," McKay answered him.

     "I'm sorry, Sergeant, but I've ordered bed rest for Sully, and I intend to see he gets it," Andrew said.  "Your questions will have to wait a few more hours."

     "Dr. Cook, I hope you're not attempting to interfere in this investigation," McKay warned him.

     "I am a physician treating a patient for exhaustion," Andrew stated.  "And in that capacity, I am telling you I will not allow Sully to answer any questions until after he's had some rest."  The two men stared at each other.

     "Very well," McKay said finally.  "I'll be back," he promised, then turned and went outside.

     "Thanks for lookin' out for Sully, Andrew," Matthew said.

     "Just doing my job," Andrew said, and smiled.

     "So how's Dr. Mike?" Matthew asked, his expression turning serious.

     "It's still too early to tell," Andrew told him.  "But for Sully's sake—and yours—I hope Michaela starts to show improvement soon."

     He, Matthew and Rosalind all looked at each other; then, as one, their eyes went to the recovery room door as their wait began again.