Sgt. McKay was strolling by the clinic when he spotted Sully emerging from the entrance to the Gold Nugget.  Bemused, he stopped and waited for Sully to reach the street.

     Intent on his next errand—his visit to Preston’s bank—Sully didn’t notice McKay and nearly walked past him     before the sergeant seized his attention.

     “Good Morning, Sully,” McKay greeted him.  Sully froze and turned, then smiled sheepishly as he retraced his steps to the other man.

     “Mornin’, Terrence,” he said.  “Sorry I didn’t see you—guess I had my mind on my own business.”

     McKay glanced speculatively at the saloon.  “It must be pretty interesting business,” he remarked.

     “What do you mean?” asked Sully, puzzled.

     “Whatever would have you visiting the saloon at—“ McKay pulled out his watch and checked the time,  “—ten o’clock in the morning?  I confess, that’s the last place I expected to see you.”

     Understanding came into Sully’s eyes.  He grinned slightly.  “Not to worry—I ain’t changin’ my ways,” he said.  “I was just returnin’ Hank’s horse.  She threw him last night and run off.  I promised to help him track her this mornin’, but when I woke up and looked out the window, there she was, grazin’ in our paddock just as content as you please.  She must have followed him there, or else she was just lookin’ for the nearest source of food.  Either way, she saved us a lot of trouble.”

     “I see,” McKay replied.  “So, what business is it that has you so preoccupied—if you don’t mind my asking?”

     “Oh, just some business I got with Preston,” Sully said dismissively.  “Not my favorite way to spend my time, as a rule, but I plan on enjoyin’ this particular visit.”

     “Well, I should let you get to it then,” McKay said, preparing to take his leave.

     “It’ll keep a few minutes,” Sully told him.  “What brings you into town?”

     “Just taking a walk, looking at the sights,” McKay answered, glancing around him at the buildings, and the hustle and bustle of traffic going by.

     Sully grinned.  “You been assigned here for—must be goin’ on six months.  Seems to me you woulda seen everythin’ there is to see fifty times over by now.”

     “True,” McKay acknowledged.  “But every other time, I was viewing the town through the eyes of a soldier.  Now, I’m looking at it as a civilian.”

     Sully looked concerned.  “Did somethin’ happen because of the trial?” he asked quickly.  “Did they threaten to court martial you, or--?”

     McKay put up his hand and smiled.  “No—nothing like that,” he assured Sully.  “And technically, I’m still a soldier—at least for two more weeks.”  Taking pity on Sully’s confusion, he added, “My tour of duty is up in fifteen days.  Up to a short time ago, I just figured I’d re-enlist.  I’ve been a career soldier since before the war.  But lately, I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time to try something different.”

     Sully felt a brief rush of deja vu.  He’d heard something like this before—and very recently.

     “How ‘bout I walk with you a ways?” he suggested.  McKay nodded, and the two men fell into step together, heading toward the meadow.

     “So when did you start thinkin’ you needed a change?” Sully said presently, feeling he could guess the answer.

     McKay looked into Sully’s eyes and recognized the other man had read his thoughts.  “The last few days,” he said, confirming Sully’s unspoken guess.  “Everything that happened with you, Dr. Quinn, the Indians and the reservation—and especially the trial . . . well, it made me realize that at heart, I didn’t believe in or support a lot of the army’s policies.  I finally decided I didn’t want to be forced into carrying them out anymore.”

     Impressed by what he’d heard, Sully said, “Takes a lot of courage to change your entire way of life after livin’ a certain way for so long.”

     “Didn’t you do the same thing when you gave up living on the land to marry and build a home for your family?” McKay asked discerningly.  Sully raised an eyebrow, conceding the truth of McKay’s remark.  “Besides,” McKay added.  “I prefer to think of it as an adventure.”

     “What are you plannin’ on doin’?” Sully asked as they ambled across the bridge.  McKay shrugged, looking a little embarrassed.

     “I’m afraid I haven’t thought that far ahead,” he confessed.  “I guess I’ll just look around, see what turns up.  I’ll have my army pension—that should see me for a while before I have to look for work.  Maybe I’ll do a little traveling before I settle down—though I doubt I’ll find many places as pretty as this.”  His eyes roamed over the landscape, taking in the distant schoolhouse nestled against the trees, the misty blue-gray of Pike’s Peak, and the spire of the church, glittering against the cloudless blue of the bright autumn sky.

     “No prettier country on earth,” Sully agreed.  They reached a bench tucked beneath the spreading, low-hanging branches of an ancient oak, and by mutual unspoken agreement, stopped and sat down.

     A placid silence fell between them, but after a while, Sully spoke again.

     “I’m probably bein’ selfish,” he began, “but it seems like kind of a shame to say good-bye to you before I even got the chance to know you.  And pardon me for sayin’ it Terrence, but you don’t really sound like you want to leave,” he added mildly, his eyes regarding McKay shrewdly.

     “I suppose you’re right,” McKay conceded.  “I guess I wouldn’t mind an excuse to stay, but there aren’t many jobs available in town that I have experience for.”

     Sully suddenly felt an odd tingling—as if the hairs on the back of his neck were standing straight up—and a vivid image appeared in his mind—that of  the pieces of a puzzle falling suddenly and satisfyingly into place.

     “I hear there’s an openin’ for a new sheriff,” he said.

* * * * * * * * * *

     “Byron, may I speak with you?” Rosalind asked two nights later, approaching Sully as he relaxed in one of the wing chairs before the fire.  Michaela, accompanied by Marjorie, had carried Katie up to bed just minutes before, and was no doubt reading her a story or singing a lullaby.  Colleen and Brian were in the kitchen, clearing up from Katie’s bath, and Matthew lounged at the table, talking and joking with them.  The pleasant sound of their voices, punctuated frequently by bursts of laughter, reached Sully’s ears.

     Sully straightened in his chair and beckoned to her with a smile of welcome.  “'Course,” he told her.  “I’m sorry we ain’t had a lot of time together lately, what with the trial, and then all the excitement of Michaela and me comin’ home,” he apologized as Rosalind settled herself in the matching wing chair opposite.  “Plus, havin’ a full house don’t allow too many chances for private conversations,” he added.

     “No apologies are necessary,” Rosalind said firmly.  “Nothing has given me greater joy than seeing you reunited with dear Michaela and these wonderful children.  It’s just—well, Marjorie and I must take our leave of you day after tomorrow, and I wanted an opportunity for a talk with you before I go.”

     “You leavin’ so soon?” Sully said, his eyes looking bereft at the prospect of Rosalind’s impending departure.

     “Not by choice,” Rosalind assured him.  “But I have commitments in San Francisco and other cities I must honor, and I’ve already stayed past my original departure date.”

     “I’m sorry my problems complicated your plans,” Sully said regretfully.  “I didn’t want you dragged into this.”

     “My dear Byron, you did not complicate my plans,” Rosalind said.  “Nothing could have induced me to leave when Michaela was in such a perilous state, or when you were injured—and I certainly was not about to desert you when you were facing your trial.  I wish with all my heart that I could remain indefintely—it seems all the time in the world would never be enough to make up for the all years we lost.  But I made a promise—“

     “And you gotta keep your promises,” Sully finished for her affectionately.

     She smiled and nodded.  “Yes, just as you have.”

     “I ain’t done a very good job of keepin’ promises these past months,” Sully demurred.

     “On the contrary,” his aunt disagreed.  “You promised to find and rescue Michaela, and you did so.  You promised to stay by her side until she was recovered and you faithfully did that, as well.  You promised to make amends to your friends and the people of this town who were adversely affected by the events at the reservation, and you’ve already begun.  And you’ve kept these promises in the face of incredible odds.

    “Most important, you promised Michaela that whatever happened at the trial, you would come back to her—and you have.”

     “How did you know about that?” Sully asked, startled, recalling his private pledge to Michaela the night they were together.

     “Michaela confided in me, the day after the trial,” Rosalind admitted.  “I hope you won’t feel that she betrayed your confidence.  It’s just that we were speaking of all the fear and worry you both endured, and she told me how your support and strength gave her the courage to face the future.  She thought I’d want to know what an exceptional nephew I had—as if you hadn’t proved that to me over and over since the first time we met,” she added.

     Sully’s cheeks flushed.  “I think she got it backwards,” he said humbly.  “It was Michaela who kept me goin’.  At the trial, when I thought for sure they were gonna find me guilty, I lost my faith.  It was Michaela—and you—who reminded me that I shouldn’t give up,” he said.

     “Because we love you,” Rosalind said.  “Because we are family.  And—it is our familial connection that I need to discuss with you now, Byron,” she added, slipping smoothly into her reason for seeking him out.

     “Sure,” Sully answered, not really knowing what she was getting at, but aware that something important was on Rosalind’s mind.

     “We shared our recollections of your dear mother, and that conversation was very precious to me,” Rosalind told him.  “But we’ve never had the opportunity to discuss the significance of your parentage, Byron.”

     “I’m sorry—I don’t think I understand,” Sully said apologetically.

     “My father—your grandfather—was the ninth Duke of Suffolk,” Rosalind reminded him.  “He died refusing to acknowledge the existence of any male heirs, and his land and fortune passed to me, as his only surviving descendent.  But the incontrovertible truth is that *you* are the legitimate heir to your grandfather’s title, Byron.  You are the tenth Duke of Suffolk, and as such, are entitled to all the privileges inherent with that position.  When I return to England, it is my desire to formally devise your grandfather’s title and all his possessions and holdings to you—and it would give me the greatest joy if you chose to come to England and assume your rightful title and position.  I realize that such a dramatic change in your life would not be easy—giving up your life here, Michaela giving up her practice, possibly leaving Matthew and Colleen behind and transplanting Brian and Katie to a new place—a new world!  But I need to know if you would consider it, nonetheless.

     “You and your family would live a life of privilege, Byron.  Brian and Katie would receive the finest education and the opportunity for a bright and unlimited future.  Michaela could establish a new clinic—even a hospital—with the best equipment and the finest staff in Europe.  There are so many poor, wretched people in British society who desperately need help.  Michaela could do a world of good.  And so could you, Byron.  You could use your position, your resources and your influence to change people’s lives for the better.

     “Do you think you could envision such a future, Byron?” Rosalind appealed to him.  “Would you be willing to try?”

     “That’s . . . a lot to think about, Rosalind,” Sully said slowly after a moment, stalling for time.  He turned the extraordinary idea over in his mind.  He, a duke?  Striding about on an estate, issuing orders to servants and collecting rents from poor tenants?  Socializing with members of the British aristocracy who had probably never encountered an oddity like him before, and doubtless never would again?  Occupying a seat in Parliament?  He, who had always maintained that politics was a dirty business—helping to formulate laws for a society he neither knew nor understood?  The concept seemed ludicrous—and yet, Rosalind had made some compelling arguments.  With such vast financial resources to draw upon, he and Michaela could make a difference—a real difference, in the lives of countless unfortunate but deserving people—not just in England, but here as well.  Perhaps there would be a way he could help the Indians.  Certainly he could work to preserve the land, saving and protecting it for future generations to come.

    They could afford to send Brian and Katie to the best schools, allowing their talents to carry them as far as possible.  Colleen’s medical studies would be taken care of, and her future and security assured, regardless of whether she chose to marry, or instead decided to emulate Michaela’s earlier career as a single woman physician.  “Another pioneering lady doctor in the famuly,” Sully thought proudly.  Matthew could attend law school, if that was his desire.  With the talent he had displayed in his defense of Sully during the trial, it was clear he made the makings of a bright and successful future in front of him.

     Viewed in that light, Rosalind’s offer was tempting.  Sully found himself imagining his children, grown, happy, successful—each of them everything he or she was meant to be.

     But nothing came without a price, he realized after a moment, the bright bubble of his reverie collapsing under the weight of reality.  In this case, the price would be their abandonment of the only lives they had ever known.  They would be giving up their attachment to this land to journey to an alien one.  Though Sully knew his roots lay in England, he felt no connection to that land.  It didn’t have a “hold” on him, as he had once explained to the children that Boston had a hold on Michaela.  Only one place represented “home” to Sully—only one place called to him, nutured him and sustained him.  And he was already here.

     He thought about putting Rosalind off, so that he could discuss it with Michaela.  Certainly his wife, and life’s partner, should have a say in such a life-altering decision.  But in his heart, he could already hear her answer:  “This is your heritage and your future, Sully.  You must do what your heart tells you is right.  Only you can decide.”

     He finally looked up at Rosalind.  His eyes regarded her with gratitude, affection, and most of all, love.

     “I’m—honored to be your nephew, Rosalind—and I feel privileged and grateful for all you’re offerin’ me,” he began gently.  “I’m honored that you want me to be a part of your life, and I surely want to be a part of yours.”  He hesitated, then went on,  “The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you . . . but the man I’d have to be to live in your world—well, it just ain’t me.  One of the most important things the Cheyenne taught me is to be true to myself.  That’s how I’ve tried to live my life, and how I mean to go on, best I can.  Doin’ anythin’ else would be denyin’ who I am.  I’m afraid it’s just too high a price to pay—even for everythin’ all of us would get in return.  I hope you can understand,” he added softly.

     “I understand,” his aunt told him calmly.  “It’s no less than I would expect from you.  My greatest source of pride since I’ve come to know you Byron, has been in your strength of character.  You could never be anything other than who you are, and I would be wrong to ask you to try.  My only disappointment lies in our inevitable separation from each other.  Now that I’ve found you, it will be very hard to let you go.”

     “For me, too,” Sully said, his throat tightening a little.  “I’d forgotten how good it feels to have kin you love, and who love you.  It’s meant a lot to me to know that feelin’ again.

     “But there are visits,” he added more cheerfully.  “I may never call England ‘home,’ but I’d surely like to see it—and I know how much the kids would enjoy discoverin’ a new place.  And you know you’re always welcome here.”

     “The prospect of such reunions will be the highlight of my life,” Rosalind said smiling, her eyes tearing a little.  Sully became aware that his own vision was slightly blurred as well.  He brushed his hand across his eyes, then reached out to grasp her hands.  “I promise not to let too much time go by before our next visit,” he vowed to her, and kissed her on the cheek.

     “And I promise to cross the ocean as often as I can to see my family in America,” Rosalind pledged with a bright smile.

     They sat quietly for a few moments, holding onto each other, then Sully said hesitantly, “Can I ask you somethin’?”

     “Of course, my dear—anything,” Rosalind replied.

     “If—we hadn’t found each other—what would have happened to my—that is, what would you have done with
. . .“  He drifted off awkwardly, unable to find a polite or delicate way of inquiring about his grandfather’s fortune.

     “Your inheritance?” Rosalind rescued him, seemingly unfazed by his question.

     “Well, yeah,” he admitted uncomfortably.

     “I had planned to will most of it to charity and to the cause of women’s sufferage,” Rosalind said readily. “With the remainder, I had hoped to establish a home for women and their children.  A place where women who were the victims of unfortunate circumstances could find shelter and help, and hopefully start new lives.”

     “That’s a wonderful, generous dream,” Sully told her, admiring but unsurprised at his aunt’s beneficence.  “If you don’t mind my sayin’, I think you should do it.”

 “Byron, you have every right to voice your opinion—and your wishes,” said Rosalind.  “However I’m glad and grateful that you support my vision.  In fact,” she added thoughtfully, an inspired look coming into her eyes.  “I believe I know a way that you can be part of it.”

 “What do you mean?” he asked.

 “I would like to call this place, the “Katharine and Byron Sully Home for Women,” she announced, then added anxiously, “What do you think?”

 Sully smiled.  “I like it,” he said.