"Jedidiah Bancroft," Michaela repeated, her eyes looking stunned.  "That is a name I'd thought never to hear again."

     "I put him out of my mind, too," said Sully.  "But he didn't forget us.  It looks like for the past four years, he's been livin' just to pay us back for interferin' in his dark business and humilatin' him in front of the town.  Not to mention the loss of his arm."

     "I tried to prevent that!" Michaela exclaimed.  "I warned him—‘

     "And he hated you for it," said Sully.  "You tried to do the right thing, Michaela—even though he was an evil, twisted man who wasn't worth savin'—but he couldn't accept help.  Not from you.  You were a woman—but even worse, you were a sympathizer.  And sympathizin' with blacks and Indians made you just as 'dirty' in his eyes as they were.  He had even more of a grudge against me.  I threatened to kill him—he couldn't let that pass by."

     A chill passed through Michaela and she shuddered.

     "What is it?" Sully asked instantly.

     "I was just thinking of the children," she breathed.  "Oh Sully—to think that all this time, all these years, they could have been in danger and we didn't know!  Because of us—because of what we did!  Bancroft threatened the children at the time—but when he left town I let myself believe he was no longer a danger.  How could I have been so misguided?"  Her eyes gazed into his with dismay.

     "This is just what I was afraid of," said Sully worriedly.  "You're lettin' yourself get all upset and it ain't good for you.  Michaela, we can't blame ourselves for what we did back then.  We did what we had to, for Robert E. and Grace's sakes.  Bancroft went away.  We never heard nothin' from him again.  We couldn't know what he was thinkin', how he was plottin'."

     "But we knew how disturbed he was," Michaela persisted.  "Any man vile enough to threaten a child is capable of anything.  Even at the time, I knew I was putting the children in danger."

     "But you went ahead and fought Bancroft anyway," Sully reminded her.  "And the kids backed you up a hundred percent.  You did what was right, Michaela.  We both did.  You can't punish yourself now for the choices you made then.  Just like you been tellin' me I shouldn't punish myself.

     "'Sides, he ain't a threat anymore," Sully went on reassuringly.  "Him and Flagg are safely locked up in a jail cell in Denver.  They can never hurt us again."

     "How can you be sure?" Michaela asked anxiously.  "What if they aren't convicted?"

     "They will be," Sully declared confidently.  "Countin' now and four years ago, we got enough evidence against them to put them away for the rest of their lives.  And in Bancroft's case, that ain't gonna be very long.  We got Hank and Sgt. McKay workin' with us on this—not to mention Matthew.  We'll make them pay—I'LL make them pay," he vowed.

     "I believe you'll do everything in your power, Sully, but you have your own burden—your own trial to face.  You could go to prison yourself—and if that happened, I don't—I don't think I could bear it," she finished in a whisper.

     Sully took both her hands in his and held them tightly.  "Matthew thinks we got a good case," he reminded her.  "You remember what he told you—that the army needs two witnesses and they only got one—and that the army's never convicted anyone of treason.  And they got no proof, Michaela—no proof that I was doin' anythin' at the reservation but trespassin'."

     "Sgt. McKay can't possibly believe that," Michaela said.

     "No, I'm sure he don't," Sully agreed.  "He knows how I feel about Cloud Dancin'—I admitted as much to him—and he knows I'm a friend to the Indians.  But I wouldn't admit to nothin' but bein' there to protect Cloud Dancin', and McKay can't prove otherwise.  He knows that too.

     "But somethin' interestin' has been happenin' since I was arrested, Michaela," Sully went on thoughtfully.  "McKay and me have talked a lot—sort of gettin' the measure of each other, you might say.  And though it sounds crazy, I think he's becomin' a friend!--or at least, he seems to be comin' over to my way of thinkin' in a lot of ways.  He's got a lot of respect for you, and he's grateful for how you've cared for his men.  And he understands how much I love you, and how I'd do anything to protect you."

     "I always thought there was more to Sgt. McKay than met the eye ," said Michaela.  "But I'm afraid I never gave him credit for being that understanding."

     "Me either," Sully agreed.  "Especially with how he acted when he arrested me. But McKay's a decent man.  He was real sorry about what happened to you, and I think it made him feel more sympathetic to both of us.  Believe it or not, I even got him to agree to release the Indians the army's been holdin' in camp and give them safe passage to the northern Cheyenne territory.  They were due to be released today.  Cloud Dancin' and me think that will do a lot toward establishin' a permanent peace agreement with Black Moon."

     "Thank God," Michaela said.

     "And the spirits," Sully added.

     A sharp knock on the door startled them both.

     "Come in," said Sully.

     The handle turned and the door opened, revealing Hank.  He stared at Sully accusingly.

      "I 'spose I got YOU to thank for this," he said.

* * * * * * * * * *

     "Afternoon to you, too, Hank," Sully said coolly.

     "Why'd ya do it, Sully?" Hank persisted.

     Sully fixed Hank with a steely gaze.  "In case you hadn't noticed," he said slowly and deliberately, carefully enunciating his words and ignoring Hank's question.  "My wife is lyin' there in a bed recoverin' from a life and death operation."

     Hank had the grace to look slightly ashamed.  "Yeah, right," he muttered.  Lifting his head, he said, "Sorry.  How ya doin', Michaela?"

     "Much better, thank you, Hank," Michaela answered him calmly.

     "She ain't *that* much better," Sully said flatly.  "And she don't need to be upset by you bargin' in here, all riled up.  If you got somethin' to say to me, let's take it outside."

     "Fine by me," Hank said readily.

     "Wait!" Michaela interjected.  "Hank, there's no need for you to leave the room, and Sully, you needn't feel you have to keep protecting me.  I would like to hear what Hank has to say."

     Sully looked unhappy, but he didn't attempt to argue with her.  Fixing Hank with a hard stare, he warned, "You watch yourself."  Hank nodded back almost imperceptibly.

     "So what did I do this time?" Sully spoke again, with a sigh of resignation.

     "Don't play dumb," Hank told him.  "You know McKay turned them Injuns loose."

     "And how would I know that?" Sully asked him.

     "'Cause ya put the idea in his head, that's how!" Hank erupted.  "McKay never woulda done it on his own."

     "You might be surprised," Sully said wryly.  "But whoever's idea it was, what's it to you?"

     "They was Injuns—and prisoners!" Hank said.  "Ya don't just let prisoners go for no reason!"

     "One thing I've learned about McKay—he don't do nothin' without a reason," Sully said calmly.  "And last I knew, he wasn't obliged to get your permission."

     "I'm the sheriff here!" Hank said hotly.

     "And the town's under martial law," Sully reminded him.  "McKay can do anythin' he wants, when it comes right down to it.

     "'Sides, those were women and children and old men," he added.  "They weren't no threat to you."

     "They were leverage against Black Moon!" Hank exclaimed.  "Now we got nothin'.  What's to stop Black Moon from raidin' the town again and killin' everyone in sight?"

     "Maybe lettin' the Indians go was the way to make sure that Black Moon and the renegades *wouldn't* raid the town again!" Sully pointed out, raising his own voice.  "Did you ever think of that?"  Recognizing suddenly that he was letting himself get angry in front of Michaela, Sully took a few deep breaths to calm himself.  More reasonably, he continued, "'Sides, if you were so all-fired mad about this, why did it take you so long to come here and tell me?  I heard the Indians were released this mornin'."

     "'Cause I rode along with them for the first ten miles!" Hank answered..  "I was gonna make damn sure they didn't start no trouble."

     "Keep a civil tongue in your head!" Sully snapped.

     "Sully, I've known Hank for a long time.  I'm hardly about to be shocked by the—‘colorful'—way he expresses himself," Michaela said mildly.

     Hank looked uncomfortable, and self-consciously hooked his thumbs in his belt.  But he seemed to back down a little at Michaela's calm interjection.

     "I don't mean ta bother ya, Michaela," he said more quietly.  "But Sully knows how I feel about Injuns--"

     "Yeah, I *do* know—or I thought I did," Sully cut him off.  "I thought we'd been through all this Hank.  You said you'd changed."

     "Not when it comes to people hurtin' me and mine," Hank declared.   "The renegades blew up the Gold Nugget.  That's all I got.  I ain't about to let them get away with it."

     "I ain't defendin' what they did," Sully told him.  "But white men have done just as bad or worse to them.  They're just defendin' themselves, the only way they know how."

     "And I'm defendin' myself!" Hank shot back.

     "And so you'll keep this war goin' on, while more and more people get hurt, or maybe killed?" said Sully.  "How's that gonna fix what happened to the Gold Nugget?  The killin', the bloodshed—it's gotta stop, Hank.  The Indians that got released today can't hurt you.  But maybe their freedom can be a start towards peace."

     "What do you *really* know about all this, Sully?" Hank challenged him.

     "I know that what happened today was a good thing," Sully said simply.  "The best thing—for this town, and for the Indians.  Even if you can't see it."

     "Black Moon ain't gonna give up that easy," Hank warned darkly.  "I'd stake my life on it."

     "Maybe not," Sully acknowledged.  "Maybe it will take a long time to reach an agreement both sides can live with.  But that don't mean we shouldn't try—and keep on tryin', till we finally got peace."

     "You sound like Michaela," Hank observed caustically.

     "I like to think that Michaela has influenced me," Sully agreed, turning to smile at her.  She smiled back.

     "And of course *you* agree with him," said Hank, directing his remark to her.

     "Yes, I agree, Hank," Michaela answered him quietly.  "I agree that I want peace, so that my husband will be free, and  my children can grow up in a safe and tranquil world.  So that the Indians will no longer have to suffer, and there will no longer be a reason for the dog soldiers to exist.  So that I won't lose my friends and neighbors.  Are those good enough reasons?"

     Sully could see in Hank's eyes that Michaela had struck a chord.  He marveled to himself.  With a few earnest words, she had managed to diffuse the saloon-owner's anger.

     "They sound like the best reasons *I* know," he commented.  "So—you got any other complaints, Hank?"

     "Well . . ." Hank began slowly, discomfort evident in his expression.

     Sully shot him a warning glance.

     "You're still angry at me—but you don't feel you can say it under the circumstances—isn't that right, Hank?" Michaela spoke for him, intuitively reading his mind.

     "No, he ain't," Sully said, staring at Hank.

     "Sully," Michaela said, gently reproving.

     "Michaela, if Hank's got any more problems, he can take them up with me," Sully persisted.

     "But his quarrel is with me," Michaela insisted.  "And I would like to clear the air."  She directed her gaze toward Hank.  "I understand that you were quite upset that I lied about Sully being dead," she went on.  "And you weren't the only one.  I imagine there were many people in town who were shocked and angered by the truth."

     "Well . . . yeah," Hank allowed.

     "I don't blame you," Michaela said forthrightly.  "I betrayed your trust.  I disappointed you and everyone else in town.  I'm sorry I had to lie, Hank.  It's something I will always regret.  But I felt I had no choice.  It was the only way I could see to buy us the time to clear Sully's name.

     "I apologize for betraying our friendship--and if, by doing so, I hurt you and others," Michaela told him sincerely.  "But I cannot apologize for doing what I felt I must, to save my husband.  These were desperate circumstances, demanding hard choices.  Can you understand?" she added, looking at Hank searchingly.  There was a pause.

     "You—consider me your friend?" Hank ventured, looking vulnerable for the first time.

     "Yes, I do," Michaela answered.  "We've been through a lot in the last six years Hank—but through it all—or maybe as a result of it--I felt we had reached an understanding, an acceptance of each other, despite all our differences.  I believed—at least I hoped—that we had formed the basis of a friendship.

     "However, if you believe that I've destroyed our relationship beyond repair, I will respect your feelings," she finished quietly.

     Hank was silent for several seconds.  Finally, he said, "I was angry—I admit it.  But that was before ya got hurt—and before I realized the courage it took for ya to do what ya did."  He pushed an errant lock of hair back behind his ear.  "Truth is, I respect ya for standin' up for Sully, and for facin' down a gunman," he confessed.  "Dorothy told me how brave ya were—that ya didn't flinch—even though ya knew he might kill ya.

    “You're a stubborn woman, Michaela.  Pushy and opinionated and always stickin' your nose in everybody's business.  And—you're also carin' and big-hearted and a good doctor.  You done a lot for this town, saved a lot of lives—and shown more guts—“ he hesitated.  "More 'gumption'—than half the men I know, more times that I can recollect.  I guess you're allowed a mistake or two, once in a while."

    "Are you saying, you forgive me?" Michaela asked.

    "Yeah, I guess I am," he answered.

    "Thank you, Hank," she said.  "I will try never to give you reason to doubt me, or be disappointed in me, again."

    "Never say never," he replied, a smile hovering around his lips.  Michaela smiled back.

     "I'm glad we had this talk," she said.  "Aren't you, Sully?"

     "If it pleases you," Sully allowed.

     Hank looked back at Michaela.  "I'm glad you're gonna be all right," he said gruffly.  "Not that I expected nothin' different," he added, a touch of his usual cockiness creeping back into his eyes and voice.

     "He's tellin' the truth on that," Sully said.  "Even when I was afraid you might not pull through, Hank never had any doubts."

     "Thank you, Hank," Michaela said, aware that she felt touched.  "But how could you be so sure?"

     "Like I said, you're stubborn—stubborn as I am," Hank told her, a wide grin splitting his face for the first time.  "Takes one to know one."  Nodding to them both, he left.

     "Hank really has changed—or at least mellowed," Michaela commented thoughtfully.

     "Yeah, I think he has—at least a little," Suly acknowledged.  "But changed man or not, Hank will always be Hank," he observed, giving her a little grin.

     "Somehow, I don't think I could abide him any other way," Michaela observed in her turn, and they chuckled softly together.