Saturday, 24 March, 1870

Evening

     “Dead?” I whispered.  “All of them?”

     “Except for about forty women and children that were taken prisoner—and one baby boy, who survived because a brave child called ‘No Harm Comes to Him”—shielded the baby with his body,” Dr. Mike explained haltingly.  “I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, Sully,” she added, her voice soft and sad.

     “I remember ‘No Harm,’” I said.  “His ma died at Sand Creek.  But No Harm lived, because she—“  My throat choked up so I couldn’t go on.  Tears burned my eyes and for a moment I couldn’t see.  When I was able to talk again, I said, “What—what happened to the baby?”

     “Grace and Robert E. looked after him for a time,” Dr. Mike said.  “They loved him as if he were their own.  And when he wouldn’t take milk from a bottle, Myra nursed him.”

     “That was—real good of them,” I managed.

     Dr. Mike nodded in agreement.  “Finally, Cloud Dancing took him to live with a band of the Northern Cheyenne in the part of Wyoming called ‘Yellowstone.’  He’ll be safe there, Sully.”  She hesitated, then added, “We gave him a name.  We called him, ‘Live in Hopes’—after something Black Kettle said to us about his dreams for peace—that he ‘lived in hopes.’”

     I was silent, thinking of the wise, gentle man of peace with the great inner strength, who had taken me into his tribe, and become like a father to me.  Then something about what she’d said pricked at my mind.

     “We?” I repeated.

     “You and I,” she said.  I didn’t understand how it was that we would have done such a thing—or why—but I couldn’t focus on that for the moment.  I was having too hard a time trying to accept the unacceptable.

     “It can’t be,” I said, shaking my head in denial.  “Maybe the others escaped.  You weren’t there, you didn’t see—“

     “But I *was* there,” she interrupted in a gentle voice.  “So were you—and Cloud Dancing.  We were—too late to stop what happened.  But we came after . . .  We—we found them, Sully.

     “I discovered the bodies of Black Kettle and his wife.”   She didn’t say how they’d died.  I don’t believe she thought I could bear it.  “And you—found Snowbird.”

     I looked up at her, the sheen of tears in my eyes making her face look wavery, like the view through a window pane washed with rain.

     “Snowbird was still alive when we reached her,” Dr. Mike went on.  “She was just able to tell us how Custer and the army rode into the camp before daybreak, so that the people had no chance to escape.”

     “Did . . . she say anything else?” I whispered.

     “Yes,” Dr. Mike answered, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears.  “As Cloud Dancing cradled her head in his arms, she said, ‘What will Cloud Dancing do, without me?’”

     I buried my face in my hands.  After a moment I felt Dr. Mike’s gentle touch on my shoulders, which were shaking with silent sobs.  We stayed like that for a while, but finally I tried to pull myself together, mopping at my eyes with the handkerchief she gave me—the cloth already damp with her tears.

     “How is he—Cloud Dancing?” I asked quietly.

     Dr. Mike took a deep, mournful breath.  “He was devastated,” she said simply.  “He couldn’t forgive himself for remaining behind when Black Kettle took the rest of the tribe to Fort Cobb.”

     “He thought they’d be safe there,” I said.  “He couldn’t know.”

     “Of course, you’re right,” she agreed.  “Still, he blamed himself at first.

    “But he was better when we saw him last, Sully,” she added.  “He and I—both felt tremendous guilt and pain about what had happened.  But then the spirits told Cloud Dancing that for us to begin to heal, he must finish teaching me about the medicine.  For several days we were together, as Cloud Dancing gave up some of his power by teaching me the rest of what he knew.  After that, we both were able to go on.”

     “You know about that?” I asked.  “About a medicine man losing his power when he shares his knowledge with others?”

    She nodded.  “It was you who told me.”

     I was silent for a time, then said, “There’s something I don’t understand about all this.  Why did you feel guilty about the massacre?  For that matter, why were you with Cloud Dancing and me when we traveled to the Washita?”

     It was Dr. Mike’s turn to be silent, but finally she answered, “There was something I’d done—a decision I made—that I believed helped to hasten the Cheyenne’s destruction.  When Colorado Springs had the chance to get the railroad, we—you and I—were on opposite sides.  You were against the coming of the railroad—you talked of how progress would spoil the land and restrict the hunting grounds, and of how the buffalo wouldn’t cross the tracks, so the Indians would be unable to hunt them and would be in danger of starvation.  As it turned out, buffalo skinners hired by the railroad destroyed most of the buffalo before the first tracks were even laid,” she said bleakly.

    “But despite your arguments to the contrary, I couldn’t stop thinking that with the coming of the railroad, I’d be able to get medical supplies more quickly and regularly, which could help me to save more lives,” she went on.

     “And I even dreamt of building a hospital—one that would welcome Indians and Negroes,” she added.  “So when the chief surveyor for the railroad line asked me my opinion—I told him I favored the railroad coming to town.  Apparently what I said was the deciding factor in his decision.  A day or two later, we learned that in nine months, the railroad would be here.”  Shame colored her cheeks, but bravely she looked me in the eyes.

    “I was wrong not to listen to you and Cloud Dancing,” she said.  “I will always regret that.”

    “It seems like you meant well,” I told her.  “You couldn’t know the future.”

    “But I had seen more than enough examples from the past,” she replied.  “I should have taken a lesson from history.  However—self-recrimination doesn’t change things.”

    “Ain’t no point in punishing yourself for things you can’t control,” I agreed.

     “As for why I was with you and Cloud Dancing—about a week after Black Kettle and the tribe had gone, Cloud Dancing got word that Black Kettle had been turned away from Fort Cobb.  The agent there told Black Kettle he didn’t have the power to make peace—that Black Kettle would have to make peace with General Sheridan.  That was how the tribe came to be camped on the banks of the Washita.  Matthew had been at the telegraph office, and saw a telegram from General Sheridan ordering Custer south of the Arkansas.  We knew that Custer hadn’t been sent there to talk peace.  Cloud Dancing was determined to reach the tribe to warn them of the danger from Custer.   He asked you to accompany him.  And I—wanted to go along in case my skills as a doctor would be needed.”

     “That’s the only reason you came?” I asked, sensing something more.

     “That, and my affection for the Cheyenne,” she replied.  “Those are the only reasons that are relevant right now.”

      I was sure now there was something else she was holding back, but she didn’t seem willing to go on, and truthfully, I didn’t think I could listen to any more—not then.

     “Are you all right?” she asked gently.

     “No,” I admitted honestly.  “I—I need some time . . .”

     “Of course,” she said.  “I’ll leave you alone, for now.  Take all the time you need.  But will you promise to call for me if you need anything—or if you just want to talk?”

     “Yeah—thanks,” I said, barely able to muster an answer, but trying to be polite to show I was grateful for her kindness and honesty.

     She looked like she wanted to comfort me, but wisely understood that the best thing she could give me then was solitude.  She stood, placing her hand gently on my shoulder for a moment, then walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

     I lay back on the bed, and began to mourn my lost family.

* * * * * * * * * *
 

CHAPTER SIX

     “Cloud Dancin’!” he said, startled and yet not surprised, all at the same time.  The medicine man stood a few feet away, wrapped in a long striped coat, his dark tresses streaming back in the wind and the feather that adorned them fluttering wildly.  Ashamed for his friend to see his weakness, Sully dashed the tears from his cheeks and took a deep, shuddering breath.

     “I was on my way to find you,” he explained unnecessarily.

     “The spirits told me you were coming,” Cloud Dancing replied.  “When I awoke, I felt you near, so I came to meet you.”

     “Are you all right?” Sully asked, trying to suppress his own feelings in his concern for his brother.

     “For the moment.  The spirits do not tell me what the future will bring.”

     Sully breathed deeply again, little by little attaining a measure of calm.

     “That’s why I come,” he said, addressing Cloud Dancing’s last statement.  “I got news about Custer.”

     “The long-hair,” Cloud Dancing stated matter-of-factly.  “Yes, I know.”

     Sully raised his eyebrows quizzically.

     “Two days ago I was near town,” Cloud Dancing elaborated.  “I saw him.  I know why he is here and what he is doing.”

     “Then you know it ain’t safe for you,” Sully told him.  “You got to go back to the North—I’ll travel with you.  Two is safer than one.”

     “The long-hair must travel his path, I must travel mine,” Cloud Dancing said simply.

     Sully’s worry for his brother’s well-being went up several notches.  “I know that’s what the spirits may tell you, Cloud Dancin’, but I talked to him.  I *know.*  He means to find you—and destroy you if he can.”

     “If he is meant to kill me . . . “  Cloud Dancing shrugged slightly, letting his eyes say the rest.

     “No!”  Sully retorted sharply.  “You can’t go thinkin’ like that!  I won’t let you!  You gotta protect yourself Cloud Dancin’.  The spirits don’t know everythin’—they can’t run all of it!”

     “Sully . . . “ Cloud Dancing said reprovingly.

     “I don’t care!” Sully lashed out petulantly.  “The spirits ain’t perfect.  The way I see it, they been makin’ some terrible mistakes.  How else do you explain Washita?  Or Sand Creek?  Or—“  He broke off, breathing heavily, not sure if the tears in his eyes were from rage, or grief, or perhaps a combination of both.

    “You are in a dark place,” Cloud Dancing observed quietly, seeing past his friend’s tirade to the misery behind it.

     Sully looked at him, momentarily beyond speech.

     Cloud Dancing reached out to grasp Sully’s arm.  “You are not to blame,” he said.

     Sully’s eyes were startled.  “I—I don’t understand,” he said haltingly.  But the words sounded false to his ears.

     “Why did you come to me?” Cloud Dancing asked quietly.

     “To warn you—like I said—“

     “And . . . ?”  His friend’s dark eyes were penetrating.

     “Cloud Dancin’, we gotta talk about Custer,” Sully protested, but without any conviction.

     “That will come later.  For now, something else weighs heavily on your spirit,” said his brother.

     Sully stared at him for a moment, then dejectedly slid down the tree truck till he was sitting on the ground, his back resting against the tree’s broad girth.  Cloud Dancing hunched down across from him, so that they were at eye level.

     Sully shook his head slowly.  “I can’t do it,” he whispered, defeated.  “I can’t risk losin’ Michaela by lettin’ her tie herself to me.  I can’t send her the way of everyone else I’ve loved.”

     “We have both lost many who were dear to us in our lives,” Cloud Dancing commented, his tone grave but accepting.  “That is our misfortune—but it is not our fault.”

     “Not yours, no.  What you suffered was the fault of the white men tryin’ to destroy your way of life, take your land and your freedom, exterminate your people . . .”

    ”And your suffering also was out of your hands.  You could not save your brother when you were but a child, or cure the sickness in your mother’s soul.  You could not stand alone against an army to stop what happened to my people.”

    “Maybe not.  But that don’t forgive what happened to my wife,” Sully said bleakly.  “I shouldn’t have made her go against her pa.  I shouldn’t have made her give up everythin’ else just to be with me.  If I hadn’t asked her to marry me, she’d still be alive . . .”

    “After Washita, when you brought Michaela to me, she told me of how she blamed herself for the railroad coming to town—that she believed it helped to cause the attack on my people.  I told her that she could not take that entire burden onto her shoulders alone.  I told her that I did not hold her to blame—and that the spirits of Snowbird and Black Kettle also would not blame her.  And she said that you had told her the same.”

    “That’s true,” Sully admitted.

    “You joined with your wife out of love, just as she pledged herself to you.  You both made that promise in joy.  Just as Snowbird and I chose to become one, so long ago.  The happiness two people find with one another is precious, no matter how long it may last.”

    “But if I had gotten her to help more quickly—if I had been smart enough to take her to Denver before the baby started comin’, so that there woulda been a doctor close by . . .”
 
 

    “You cannot know if that would have changed things,” Cloud Dancing told him.  “If the Great Spirit chooses to take back one of his children, there is nothing we can do.  We must learn to accept it.”

    “How?” Sully burst out.  “How do you accept that kind of pain and just keep goin’ on?  I’ve tried to be like you Cloud Dancin’.  I’ve tried, but I’ve failed.  I never intended to allow myself to know love again, but when I met Michaela, I couldn’t help it.  I let her into my heart.  But now I’m so afraid that by lovin’ her I’ve condemned her . . .”

     “Again, you presume that the feeling, that the choice, is entirely on your side,” Cloud Dancing reminded him gently.  “You give no thought to Michaela’s feelings in this matter, or her love for you.  Her choice to join with you is as much a part of your destiny as your own decision.”

     “But she don’t understand the risk she’s takin’,” Sully persisted.  “I do—it’s why it’s up to me to protect her from sacrificin’ herself.  But up to now, I ain’t had the courage.  And I been hurtin’ her more ‘cause of my own weakness.”

     “If your wife had lived, you might not have known Michaela,” Cloud Dancing pointed out.  “Or if you had, you would never have allowed your feelings of love to grow.  But what if that was not your destiny, Sully?  What if your time with Abagail was but a stop along the path to your true destiny—a life with Michaela?

     “You must accept the vision of the spirits, Sully.  You must learn to give yourself over to their care, and their wisdom.”

     “I—don’t think I can,” Sully whispered.  “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

     “I will help you,” said his friend.

* * * * * * * * * *

     The children had finished their lunch and left the table, Brian going off to play with Pup outside, and Colleen seeking the seclusion of her room to read.  But Michaela continued to sit as the food grew cold on her plate, her appetite nonexistent.  Matthew sipped at a cup of coffee, watching her thoughtfully.

     As they had approached the homestead, the wagon rattling over the ruts in the road, an inexplicable sensation of sadness had come over Michaela.  Composed of equal parts melancholy and a profound sense of loss, the feeling had appeared out of nowhere to suddenly, overwhelmingly embrace her, reaching chilly fingers inside to caress her heart.  She had hoped that once inside the security of the homestead, she’d feel better.  But being ensconced within the comforting warmth of the cabin’s walls hadn’t caused the feeling to abate.  Instead it continued to permeate her soul, keen and penetrating.

     She told herself it was just a further manifestation of her loneliness for Sully, and her concern for his well-being.  But in truth this was different from the anxiety she’d felt before—different and deeply troubling.

     “You’ve hardly touched a bite,” Matthew observed finally, Michaela’s unease communicating itself to him.  “You’re still worried about Sully, ain’t you, Dr. Mike?”

     Michaela met her son’s glance, her malaise clearly mirrored in her eyes. “I’m concerned for him, yes, but—“ she began, but then stopped, unable to articulate what she was feeling, or why.

    “Is there somethin’ about this trip you didn’t tell us?” Matthew probed.  “Is Sully in trouble?”

     Michaela felt a stab of guilt.  Just as she had lied to Custer, she had also led the children to believe that Sully had embarked on an innocent hunting trip.  She hadn’t meant to be dishonest, but she had felt obligated to protect Sully’s privacy, and she had seen no reason to worry the children about his emotional distress.

     But she was finding it harder and harder to conceal the chaos of her own emotions.  Clearly Matthew had already seen through her dissembling, and while she intended to continue to protect Colleen and Brian, she realized that to her oldest son, at least, she owed the truth.

     Slowly, hesitatingly, she related the events of the past two days—the conversations she’d had with Sully and her realization of the grief that continued to plague him in the wake of Washita;  his decision to seek out Cloud Dancing to put his unhappiness to rest—as well as to protect his brother’s safety; and her own feelings of worry, which were growing increasingly disturbing.

     Matthew listened soberly, asking a question here or there, but for the most part letting her tell her tale uninterrupted.  She finished, and silence fell momentarily as Matthew mulled over what he’d heard.

     “So you’re sayin’ that what you’re goin’ through now ain’ the same as what you felt before,” he said finally.  “Why do you ‘spose that is?”

     Michaela stood up and paced restlessly around the room.  She came to a stop by the window, feeling drawn there as if by a magnet.  The seconds ticked by as she stared through the panes, watching Brian romping with his pet in the yard but not really seeing them.

     “I wish I knew,” she replied at length, feeling as unsatisfied by the answer as she knew Matthew must be.  “I know that if anyone can help Sully through his emotional struggles, it’s Cloud Dancing.  And I know that both of them have been clever and successful at eluding the army in the past, and that this time should be no exception.   It’s just . . . I can’t help wondering . . . but no, it will sound too foolish.”

     “Go ahead, Dr. Mike.  You can tell me,” Matthew encouraged gently.

     Michaela turned to face him.  He sat at the table, watching her attentively.  “I can’t help thinking . . . that something is happening to Sully—and that I’m *feeling* it somehow,” She ventured slowly.  “I know it sounds impossible—it sounds ridiculous!--but . . .“

     “What?” Matthew urged.

     “I believe it’s true—because it happened once before,” she said.

* * * * * * * * * *

     “I’m grateful,” Sully told his friend, after he had taken a few minutes to collect himself.  “There’s nobody else I coulda gone to with this.  Even Michaela gave her blessin’ to this trip ‘cause she knew you were the only one who could help me.”

     “She knows of your fears about the marriage?” Cloud Dancing asked in surprise.

     “No, no—she don’t have any idea about that.  I’d hardly admitted it to myself, ‘fore now.  Like I been tellin’ you, Cloud Dancin’, I’m a coward.”

     The medicine man didn’t reply, choosing not to dignify Sully’s statement with a response.  Looking a trifle ashamed at his display of self-pity, Sully went on, “Well anyway, Michaela thinks this is all about my grief over losin’ so many people I cared about at Washita and Sand Creek, and my worries about you.

     “And most of it is,” he added earnestly, unwilling to have Cloud Dancing think that he was too wrapped up in his own trouble to care about the martyrdom of the Cheyenne, or his brother’s safety.  Even as the words left his lips, however, he knew that he didn’t need to explain, because Cloud Dancing could always read what was in his heart.

     “I will be all right, but Michaela was wise to see that you needed help to heal,” Cloud Dancing commented, confirming Sully’s instincts about him.

     “Yeah.  She cares so much, always tryin’ to do what’s best for me, always puttin’ my needs before her own . . .” Sully said softly.

     “Because she loves you—and she needs you,” his friend said significantly.

     Sully felt renewed guilt over how he was hurting the woman who had so willingly given him her love, innocently trusting him with her future.  But he also realized that as desperately as he needed his brother’s assistance to deal with his own unhappiness, Cloud Dancing’s peril was more immediate and more important.

     “I appreciate your help, Cloud Dancing—more than I can say.  But right now, you’re the one who’s in danger, and we gotta deal with it,” he said.

     “We need to talk,” Cloud Dancing agreed, wisely deciding not to force the issue of Sully’s crisis of the spirit.  His brother would open the rest of his heart to him when he was able.  In the meantime . . .  The medicine man lifted his head slightly, breathing deeply of the frigid air and gauging the strength and direction of the wind.

     “The wind has changed, and the temperature is dropping,” he announced.  “You need food and warmth.  Let us return to my camp.  We can talk on the way.”

     Sully nodded in assent.  He freed his horse’s reins from their tether, and led the animal back onto the path, following his friend’s lead as they moved along the trail deeper into the mountains.

* * * * * * * * * *

     “This will sound hard to believe,” Michaela began uncertainly, concerned that Matthew might question her sanity, especially in view of her current distress.

     “Tell me,” he repeated, his expression supportive.

     “Well, you recall how when I was abducted by the dog soldiers, Sully searched for me so tirelessly?” Michaela began.

     “’Course I remember,” Matthew said readily.  “He wouldn’t give up.  He woulda fought every Indian in One-Eye’s band to get you back, if that’s what it took.”

     “Yes, I believe he would have,” Michaela said softly, a glow of joy suffusing her briefly at the thought of being so cherished by Sully that he would go to any lengths to save her.  It was an uplifting yet humbling feeling, and for a few precious moments, it blotted out the darker fear that had claimed her.

     Reluctantly refocusing on the present, she continued,  “At one point Cloud Dancing’s son, Walks on Clouds, tried to help me escape—“

     “I know,” Matthew interjected.  “And got killed for it by One-Eye.”

     Michaela nodded.  “I’ll never forget his courage—or his sacrifice,” she said reverently.  She sighed deeply, then went on,  “Unfortunately, I didn’t get far before One-Eye found me.  After knocking me senseless, he determined to punish me for attempting to get away—and he intended to take no chance that I would try again.  So he took my shoes and had his men drag me barefoot wherever we traveled from then on.”

     “If I’da been there, I woulda killed him for that,” Matthew said, his expression thunderous.  “I’m glad Sully did the job.”

     “Thank you, Matthew,” Michaela said quietly.  “But killing—except in self-defense, which is what Sully did to One-Eye—is never a solution.  Shortly before Black Kettle took the tribe to Fort Cobb, which led to the massacre at Washita, Snowbird said to me that she had never found killing to be a path to peace—and she was right.”

     “I know, Dr. Mike—but One-Eye hurt you, and I can’t forgive that.  I know Sully wouldn’t either.”

     “Fortunately Sully found me,” Michaela reminded him.  “That’s all that matters now.  But it was *how* he found me that was so remarkable.”

     She paused momentarily, remembering, then said, “We had stopped for a few minutes, to rest and water the horses, and I was sitting on a log, staring out at the valley, when suddenly a feeling came over me—one I couldn’t explain.  But it was almost as if Sully were right there beside me.  I could *feel* his presence so strongly, and I could hear him—calling to me—asking me to tell him where I was.  And I *knew*--I just knew he was nearby.  So when the opportunity arose, I created a diversion and started to run, calling out to him.  I was recaptured immediately, but somehow, I was sure he’d heard me.  And then later, Sully told me that when I cried out his name, he heard it, clearly, as if I were by his side.  That was the turning point of his search.  From then on, he knew where we were and was able to keep us in sight until he could finally sneak into One-Eye’s camp and rescue me.”

     Michaela paused again, then looked at Matthew with a somewhat sheepish smile.  “I told you it would sound foolish,” she said.

     “No, not really,” Matthew responded, surprising her.  “I’ve seen the way the two of you look at each other, Dr. Mike.  I’ve seen the bond you have between you.  Almost as if you were one person, divided in two, and you can only be whole when you’re together.  Don’t seem like such a stretch of the imagination to think that you can hear and feel each other when you’re apart.  Fact is,” he admitted, coloring a little, “I like to think that Ingrid and I have that too—a little bit, anyway.  Leastways I know that I never really feel ‘complete’ ‘less I’m with her.”

     “You *do* understand,” Michaela said gratefully.

     “Yeah, think I do,” said Matthew, rising from his seat and coming over to join her.  He put his hand comfortingly on her shoulder.  “And now you think you can feel Sully again, but what you’re gettin’ from him this time has you worried?”

     Michaela stared out at the bleak landscape.  “It’s more than that Matthew,” she whispered.  “It has me frightened.”