The next few days passed in a kind of tranquil limbo.  To Sully, it seemed as if he, Michaela, and their family were enclosed in a kind of protective bubble, which nothing unpleasant could penetrate.  They all knew the trial was rapidly approaching, and that for good or ill, its outcome could change their lives forever.  And yet they continued to exist in their invisible cocoon of love and closeness.  It was as if instinctively, they had all chosen to draw near to one another, living just for these few precious hours and days, refusing to acknowledge what the future might bring.

     Of course Sully realized that he could not completely ignore what was coming.  Each night, after supper, he and Matthew would huddle together, discussing Sully’s defense and what they might expect from the prosecution.  They weighed the pros and cons of Sully testifying on his own behalf—how much of the truth was safe to tell, how Sully should respond to the more difficult questions, and how he could successfully avoid any mention of Michaela’s and the children’s help in his recovery, or Robert E.’s assistance in procuring horses for the Indians—as Sully was still adamant about keeping his family’s and his friend’s roles in the uprising and its aftermath a secret.  Yet their discussions seemed to be  no more than an intellectual exercise—and the trial a nebulous unreality.

     With her family’s help, Michaela continued her program of mild exercise, walking more and growing stronger by the day.  As Andrew had predicted, she was soon able to forego the need for morphine or laudanum to alleviate her pain, and only occasionally relied on the bark tea for relief from her rapidly lessening discomfort.  For his part, Sully also was recovering steadily from his wound.  Each day Michaela would carefully massage his shoulder, her gentle touch helping to relax the tension in his  muscles and work out the stiffness in his arm.  Soon Sully was able to abandon the use of the sling—however, Matthew advised him that he should wear it at the trial, as a reminder to the judge of how he had been wounded saving the life of Sgt. McKay.  Sully felt uncomfortable with the pretense, but Matthew pointed out the necessity of using every advantage at their disposal to win the judge’s sympathy, and Sully—anxious to reassure Matthew of his faith in him—deferred to his son’s judgement.

     As the days passed, Matthew also made valuable use of his time to talk to their many friends and neighbors, soliciting their help as character witnesses for Sully.  Michaela’s shooting and Sully’s devotion to her, as well as the injury he himself had sustained to save McKay life’s, had succeeded in winning the sympathies of the town.  Each person Matthew approached was willing—even eager—to speak on Sully’s behalf.

     The townspeople rallied around Sully and Michaela in other ways as well.  Each day brought visits from friends and patients who just wanted to “see how they were doing,” and help out in one way or another.  Hank and Jake took turns taking care of the chores at the homestead, so Matthew wouldn’t have to waste time traveling back and forth.  Robert E. refused to let Matthew help at the livery, saying that he had more important work to attend to right now.  Grace brought them breakfast, lunch and dinner every day, and wouldn’t accept any payment.  And, with the frequent assistance of Rosalind, Marjorie and Dorothy, she also continued to care for Katie, who thrived on the loving attention of all her substitute “mothers.”

     One day, the ladies of the sewing circle surprised Michaela by holding their weekly gathering at the clinic, so that she could participate.  The women spent a pleasant couple of hours doing a little sewing and a lot of gossiping.  Sully, relaxing outside, would smile each time he heard the peal of Michaela’s laughter.

     Then there was the day Loren closed the store early, and came to the clinic bearing a large box of chocolates for Michaela and Sully, and two fishing poles.  His invitation to Brian to go fishing made the boy’s eyes light up, and warmed Sully’s heart.  As Loren and Brian were heading out to Loren’s wagon, Sully stopped the older man.

     “Loren—I just want to say how much I appreciate this.  I know that I—disappointed you.  I’m grateful you ain’t holdin’ my mistakes against Brian.”

     “No need to thank me,” Loren replied, his demeanor crusty but kind. “Brian’s the closest thing I got to a grandson.  I could never turn my back on him.”  He paused.  “Truth is, I ain’t mad no more—if I ever really was,” he admitted.  He looked slightly uncomfortable at voicing his private feelings, but continued nonetheless.  “I never said this, Sully—least not to your face—but I want to tell you that . . . well, you come to mean a lot to me.   And it hurt—more than I can say—when I thought you was dead.  Findin’ out you were alive—well, maybe I was angry at first that you lied, but I got over it quick.  Mostly, I was just grateful we hadn’t lost you—‘cause *you’re* the closest thing I got to—to a son.”

     “I—don’t know what to say, Loren,” Sully began, overwhelmed by Loren’s words.

     “You don’t gotta say nothin’,” Loren interrupted brusquely, trying to belie the emotion he’d betrayed with his statement.

     “But I want to,” Sully said quietly.  “You and me—we had a rough start.  But over the years, I came to feel real close to you, too—kinda like havin’ the pa I never knew.  When you had your stroke, couple years back—I was real sorrowful—thinkin’ I might lose you.

      “I’m sorry I never told you what was in my heart,” he added sincerely.  “I guess—we both have trouble expressin’ how we feel.  But I’m grateful I got a second chance to say it.”  Sully paused as Loren fished a handkerchief from his back pocket and honked into it   His eyes looked suspiciously shiny.

     Smiling slightly, Sully went on, “I’m grateful for somethin’ else, too.  It’s been a long time since I was able to take Brian fishin’, or spend much time with him.  And right now, I don’t know  when I’ll be able to be with him again—or if I’ll even be here . . . to see him grow up.  I might be sent away for a lot of years, or even . . .”  His voice trailed off, but there was no mistaking his meaning.

     “That ain’t gonna happen,” Loren declared.  Sully regarded him appreciatively.

     “It’s good of you to say that, and try to keep my spirits up,” he responded.  “But fact is, we both know things could go bad for me.  And if that happens, it will be a comfort for me to know that you’ll be here, and  Brian will have a man to talk to—a man with wisdom and experience, who loves him.  ‘A father to all sons’—remember?” he added, smiling.

     “Yeah,” Loren said gruffly, as they both thought back to the time Cloud Dancing and the Cheyenne had  presented Loren with an eagle feather to commemorate his bravery in protecting Brian from a bear.  Loren had been feeling old, and had decided to embark on a trip to Bolivia in a desperate attempt to recapture his lost youth.  But things hadn’t worked out as he’d planned.  Just a short way into the woods, he’d been accosted by a bear, and had been forced to seek refuge up a tree.  When Brian, who had been attempting to run away from the onset of puberty, was chased up a neighboring tree by the same bear,  Loren had looked out for him and ultimately frightened the bear away.  Then when Sully told Cloud Dancing what Loren had done, the Cheyenne chose to honor Loren with the eagle feather and mark this important event in his life with a special name: “The One Who Stands Against the Bear.”  Sully had explained to Loren that the Indians cherished the wisdom that came with age.  Though a man could no longer hunt, he was still revered by the tribe, becoming a “council to all men” and a “father to all sons.”

     “I‘ll be here for Brian whenever he needs me,” Loren pledged now.  “But Sully, you don’t gotta worry.  Soon as this trial business is over, you’ll be back with your family, where you belong.”

     “I hope you’re right,” Sully said.  “Still, I gotta look ahead—plan for whatever comes.”

     “Speakin’ of that,” Loren said somewhat awkwardly,  “I just wanted to say—well, the bill you got at my store
. . . I know with everythin’ goin’ on  that money is kinda tight for you folks right now.”  He cleared his throat.  “I just want you to know that there’s no rush about payin’ me.  Dr. Mike can keep on chargin’ on your account as long as she needs, and you can pay me whenever you can.”

     Sully’s throat tightened.  “Thanks, Loren.  I’ll do the best I can not to keep you waitin’ too long.”

     “I ain’t worried,” Loren said kindly.

     “Mr. Bray!” called Brian from the wagon.  “Ya comin’?”

     The men smiled at each other, and Loren went to join his eager fishing companion.

     “Catch a big one, Brian!” Sully called with a smile and a wave, as they headed out of town.  But as the wagon rounded the corner of the clinic and disappeared from sight, a shadow crossed Sully’s face, and he wondered who would be fishing with Brian in the months or years to come.

* * * * * * * * * *

     Despite their sudden popularity among the townsfolk, and their many visitors, Sully didn’t allow a day to pass without setting aside some special time for he and Michaela to spend alone.  Each evening, he would dim the lamps and light some candles, and they would lay in bed together, reading poetry to one another, talking quietly, or just holding each other close.  Three nights before the trial, Sully was just starting to perform his candle-lighting ritual when there was a soft knock on their door.  He glanced at Michaela, raising his eyebrows as if to say “Oh, well.”  She returned the look with a resigned smile as he went to answer the door.

     Sgt. McKay stood on the threshold.  As Sully stepped back to let him enter, McKay removed his cap, and nodded to Michaela.  “Good evening, Dr. Quinn, Sully,” he said hesitantly, as if unsure of his reception.

     “Good Evening Sergeant,” Michaela responded.

     “Sergeant,” Sully echoed.  “We ain’t seen you in a few days—how are you doin’?” he added, recognizing McKay’s uncertainty and attempting to put him at his ease.

     “I’m very well, thanks.  More to the point, how are both of you?” McKay asked.

     “Gettin’ better all the time,” Sully said cheerfully.  “It’s all we can do to keep Michaela from doctorin’ the folks who come to the clinic.”

     “Andrew says I must rest another week at least, but I confess it’s difficult to remain idle when patients come to the clinic needing help,” Michaela said smiling.

     McKay returned the smile.  “You’ve been keenly missed,” he said.  “I know everyone in town—not to mention all my men—will be delighted when you come back to work.

     “And Sully—how is your wound?” he added.

     “I’m healin’,” Sully answered.  He suddenly realized he wasn’t wearing the sling, and felt a brief apprehension, remembering Matthew’s cautionary advice.  But a moment later he dismissed his worries, feeling instinctively that McKay wouldn’t betray him to his superiors or the judge.

     “I—can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that,” McKay said sincerely.

     “Can we offer you some coffee, Sergeant?” Michaela asked, nodding toward the fresh pot Grace had left them when she’d come to collect their supper dishes earlier.

     “That’s very kind, but I won’t be staying long,” McKay replied.  “I just wanted to have a word with you both.”

     “So this ain’t just a casual visit,” Sully said intuitively.

     “Not completely,” McKay confessed.  He paused a moment, then went on, “I really shouldn’t be here, telling you this—but I thought you should know that the officer who is going to prosecute your trial arrived on this morning’s train.”

     “That right?” Sully said neutrally.

     “His name is Major Morrison.  He’s prosecuted several military trials in Washington—and made quite a name for himself in army and political circles,” McKay continued.  “He’s rumored to be—very tough.”

     “So the army sent their best—they must be real determined to convict me,” Sully observed.  He kept his tone light, for Michaela’s sake, but as he looked at McKay, the sober expression in his eyes belied his words.  Michaela looked somber as well.

     “I won’t lie to you—Morrison is a formidable adversary,” McKay admitted.  “But there is reason for hope.  The army has no proof that you killed Sgt. O’Conner—and the army’s record is very poor when it comes to treason cases.”

     “But what about your testimony?” Sully pointed out.  “After all, you *did* see me at the reservation with Cloud Dancin’.”

     “Yes that’s true,” McKay conceded.  “But you were right, Sully, the first time we talked.  I didn’t see you setting off the blasting powder, or firing on my men.  I can truthfully testify that I wasn’t a witness to treason.”

     “What if Morrison asks you what you *think* I was doin’ there?” Sully asked.

     “I had no way of knowing what was in your mind at the time,” McKay said blandly.  “The most I could offer would be speculation, and I doubt the judge would consider that to be admissable.”

     “We appreciate you comin’ by to talk to us like this,” Sully said.  “I know you’re takin’ a risk.”

     “It’s not the first time,” McKay replied, with the trace of a smile.  “I feel it’s the least I can do, after what you did for me.”

     Sully looked away.  He was thinking about McKay’s willingnes to let him stay at the clinic with Michaela.  He remembered how McKay had agreed to wihthold any mention of Michaela helping him to recover after his accident.   He thought about how McKay had agreed to free the Indians without demanding that Sully tell him what he knew about Black Moon.  Now McKay had come to them with this latest act of kindness.

    Sully recalled how he’d talked around the truth and colored the facts when McKay questioned him about the uprising—and he felt a twinge of shame.  His deception nagged at him.

    “Sergeant,” he said suddenly.  “When you questioned me about the reservation—well, there are things I didn’t tell you.”  Michaela looked at him sharply.  But before he could go on, McKay raised his hand.

    “I know everything I need to know about the events of that day,” he said.  “Your intention was to help your friend escape his suffering, was it not?  As far as I can see, that is the only truth which is important here.  Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Quinn?”

    “That is very gracious of you, Sergeant,” Michaela answered softly.  She looked up at Sully, who had been rendered temporarily speechless.  After a moment, however, he recovered himself.

    “You’re a good man, Sergeant,” he said quietly.  “But it ain’t right for you to risk committin’ perjury just ‘cause you think you owe me for the other night—“

    “On the contrary,” McKay responded.  “Every word I intend to say on that stand will be the truth—the truth as I see it.  I’ve learned a great deal these past few days, Sully.  The most important thing I’ve learned is that the facts of a situation don’t always show the true picture.  Things are rarely as cut and dried as they seem.  I’d like to thank you for teaching me to *see* that more clearly.”

    “I want to wish you luck, Sully,” he said, putting out his hand.  As Sully grasped it, he added, “Ever since I was a boy, I’ve always liked to win.  But this time, I heartily hope that I lose.

    “My best to you both,” he concluded with a parting smile, and left the room.

    Sully and Michaela looked at each other in wonder.  Then, without a word, Sully went to Michaela and took her in his arms.