Chapter 13

"That's it .... ease him up the table a little," instructed Michaela, observing Freddy's clammy skin and rapid pulse with concern. Finally the young man was laying prostrate on the examination table and Michaela immediately issued instructions, "Colleen ... I'll need a lamp and a small scalpel .... clean bandages for his hand ...."

"You think it's the cut on his hand ma?" asked Colleen anxiously.

"It's the most logical place to start," replied Michaela. "I'm sure it was clean when I finished stitching it the other day .... but you can never be certain where infections are concerned ... we'll soon know ..." She began to slowly unwrap the wounded hand. It was obvious that the bandage had not been touched since she'd bound it there in the clinic. The outside layer was decidedly grubby, but underneath, the bandage was white and even. While Colleen held a bowl into which the loose bandage fell, Michaela carefully pulled back the dressing beneath. She gasped when she saw the condition of the wound. It was red, puffy and weeping. "Its definitely his hand," she said sorrowfully. "I can't understand why it would be infected like this."

"So what do we do now ma? Clean it again?" asked Colleen worriedly, as she peered over her mother's shoulder.

"No ... that won't be enough .... I'll have to remove the stitches and try to find what is causing the infection ... perhaps even cut away some of the most infected tissue," replied Michaela, gently prodding the wound, causing Freddy to moan softly, and a small amount of yellow discharge to leak from between the stitches. She screwed up her nose. "Whatever it is ... its taken hold quickly .... and we'll have to work just as quickly to counteract it," she added. "Colleen .... we'll put him under and then I'll go to work on his hand .... Perhaps you'd better tell Horace what is happening ..." As Colleen scurried across the clinic to the door, Michaela once again examined the wound and shook her head in bemusement. This was indeed puzzling. She could have sworn it was clean when she finished stitching it.

Within minutes, Colleen stood at the end of the examination table applying chloroform to Freddy while her mother began work on his hand. The younger woman gazed down on the handsome, now peaceful face and sighed as she gently brushed back a lock of dark brown hair from his forehead. She sincerely hoped he was going to be alright. Observing him like this gave her a different perspective in that his intense green eyes were closed and so deferred to the remainder of his handsome features. He was such a friendly, gentle, young man who had been keen to be her friend. In her heart she wanted that also. She had so few friends her own age and she'd been secretly thrilled that her medical aspirations had not deterred him at all. She realised with surprise that she'd like to find out more about him - where he came from, his family, his education, *his* aspirations. She momentarily laid her hand gently on his feverish forehead. Then she shook herself and asked, "Can ya see anythin'?" as she moved down to observe her mother minutely examining the infected gash on his hand.

Michaela had removed the stitches and was gradually peeling back the skin and flesh and scraping away the affected tissue. She shook her head. "The infection's bad," she murmured. "And I can't determine why." She continued to work on the wound, gradually spreading it apart. Her eyes suddenly narrowed and she glanced up at her daughter. "The smallest forceps we have Colleen .... there's something in the wound ... deep down ..." There was silence in the room for a few minutes as Michaela performed the delicate procedure of removing the foreign object from the wound. At last she held up the forceps in which was clasped a very small splinter of wood.

Colleen peered at the culprit perplexedly. "That's what caused him to be so sick!" she exclaimed. "That tiny thing?!"

Michaela smiled wryly. "Mmm," she replied. "It was buried deep down into the flesh .... probably near a blood vessel." She dropped the offending splinter and then forceps into a metal bowl and shook her head. "I wondered why the wound was so painful the day I stitched it ... I concluded Freddy just had difficulty handling pain .... I'll have to apologise to him ..." She glanced across at her daughter. "I'll wash this out now and then it'll have to be stitched all over again."

"I thought he said he'd cut his hand on wire ma," remarked Colleen, handing her mother the required instruments and solution.

"He did .... but the wire was on a wooden crate .... He must have jagged his hand back against the wood of the crate as the wire cut his hand and ....."

"And that's how the splinter got in there," concluded Colleen. She shook her head. "A doctor never knows do they ma? .... What else might cause problems ..."

Michaela nodded. "You're right Colleen .... One shouldn't always treat the obvious .... without checking thoroughly for anything else which might cause complications." She frowned. "Just as I should have checked the gash further."

"You'd never've found the splinter," Colleen reassured her immediately. "It was so deep down .... " She handed her ma a needle and suture as Michaela put aside the solution. "What about his fever ma?"

"We'll keep him here at the clinic .... laudanum and willow bark .... plenty of cold compresses .... We have to reduce the fever .... and quickly," replied Michaela. "I'm just hoping the infection hasn't taken too great a hold ...."

****************************
Michaela stepped out onto the clinic porch and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air. It had been quite a morning. Hands on hips, she arched her back and stretched the tired and cramped muscles. Abruptly her stomach rumbled and she smiled ruefully. She should have had lunch a couple of hours ago, but she'd been too busy. It had been Colleen who'd finally insisted that she could take care of Freddy while her ma had some lunch. Upstairs, William was sleeping soundly following a feed, and Katie was at home with Kathleen, so there was nothing stopping her. She took a deep enervating breath and was just stepping onto the street when she was hailed.

"Michaela .... Michaela," called Dorothy as she hurried across the street from the direction of the mercantile. Her arms were laden with packages and she had to take a quick sideways step to avoid being run over by a wagon being driven just a little too quickly by an over zealous ranch hand. She finally reached the porch and immediately placed her packages down on the wooden bench by the door. "Phew!" she exclaimed, stretching her arms. "I should've got a box ta carry 'em." Then she giggled and added, "Or a strong man ..."

Michaela smiled, and as her friend straightened, she said warmly, "Dorothy ... its seems so long since I've seen you ..."

"Loren told me you were back workin' at the clinic a few mornin's a week," she rejoined. "I was disappointed I missed ya on Monday ..."

Michaela gave her a wry smile. "Seems you haven't been in town too much lately .... hmm?" she asked somewhat teasingly.

The older woman reddened a little. "I've bin spendin' some time out at Palmer Creek." Michaela quirked an eyebrow and she reddened further. "Alright," she conceded with a giggle. "I've bin spendin' a lot of time out at Palmer Creek." She pushed her packages to one end of the bench and then sank down into it. "Actually ... I wanted ta talk to you about that," she said, raising her eyes to Michaela's. "You got a minute?"

Hoping her stomach wouldn't rumble and give her away, Michaela sat down beside her friend and said, "Of course ..." She waited a few moments while Dorothy collected her thoughts.

Finally the Gazette editor said quietly, "You know Flyin' Hawk an' his people are headin' north tomorrow?" Michaela nodded. Dorothy took a deep breath. "I've decided ta go with 'em," she announced, watching carefully for Michaela's reaction.

Michaela's eyes opened wide in surprise. "You are!" she exclaimed. "But it could be dangerous."

"I know that," her dear friend acknowledged. "But I feel like I gotta .... Me an' Cloud Dancin' have got so close .... I feel like I need to be with him right now ..." She glanced down at the packages on the seat beside her. "I've been figurin' out what I should take ..."

Michaela was silent for a moment then she said quietly, "You will be careful ... won't you? ...."

"Of course I will Michaela .... Cloud Dancin'll look out for me ....," Dorothy assured her. She took a deep breath. "Fact is .... part o' me's real excited about the trip .... an' the other part's wonderin' what I'm lettin' myself in for ..."

"You've travelled to the north before," said Michaela quietly. "Is it really so dangerous?"

"Me an' Cloud Dancin's never had any trouble .... but this time ... travellin' with a whole lotta folk .... It aint gonna be as easy ta stay under cover ..."

Michaela nodded and lowered her eyes to her lap where she nervously pleated the thick cloth of her skirt.

"Michaela?" asked Dorothy with concern, noticing her friend's disturbed demeanour.

She at last raised her eyes and met Dorothy's. "I don't want anything to happen to you .... or Cloud Dancing .... or ...." She trailed off.

Dorothy regarded her quizzically for a moment and then, as a notion occurred to her, ventured, "Cloud Dancin' was sayin' that Brian was pretty anxious to go on the trip too ..." Michaela did not reply, but her eyes narrowed and were all at once suspiciously bright. Dorothy reached out to lay her hand reassuringly over her friend's. "You're lettin' him go .... aint ya?"

Michaela nodded and then murmured in a small voice, "I don't want him to .... but he's growing up .... and he has his heart set on it ...."

"You're doin' the right thing ... lettin' him go .... He *is* growin' up .... Both Cloud Dancin' an' Flyin' Hawk think the world of him ..."

"But I'm so frightened for him .... for all of you .... They had trouble coming south ... who's to say there won't be trouble on the homeward journey ...," exhorted Michaela, very close to tears.

"We'll look out for him Michaela .... an' we'll be real careful .... I promise," vowed Dorothy.

"I know ... and thank-you," rejoined Michaela with a wan smile. Despite her best intentions, her stomach suddenly growled, somewhat loudly. She reddened embarrassedly.

Dorothy's eyes narrowed. "You had lunch Michaela?" she asked with concern.

Michaela shook her head, a little shamefaced. "The clinic was busy this morning ... and we have a patient upstairs," she replied in a small voice.

Dorothy immediately stood. "Well then ... I feel like a cup o' coffee an' maybe a piece of Grace's pie ... I'll join ya," she said determinedly, brooking no argument.

Michaela smiled and murmured, "What would I do without you ..." She suddenly froze and grasped her friend's hand as the implications of that adage suddenly rang true.

"Its alright Michaela .... You aint gonna have ta do without us ... any of us," Dorothy assured her. "Now come .... Ya gotta keep your strength up .... We'll drop these packages off at the Gazette office an' then go on to Grace's." She handed Michaela a couple of brown paper wrapped articles and then tugged her down the clinic porch step to the street.

*********************
Adrian Tilson, standing on the saloon porch, had been impatiently watching the clinic door since shortly after lunch. He'd been bitterly disappointed when he'd discovered that Michaela had not come into town yesterday. It was only when he was in the mercantile and overheard Loren explaining Michaela's whereabouts to Dorothy Jennings that he'd understood why. He'd stored away this piece of information. It seemed that whenever Andrew Cook was working in the Chateau clinic, he could count on Michaela being in town.

He was fearful that he'd actually missed her when she did not appear at a similar time to the other day, so his relief was real when the clinic door swung open and she emerged onto the clinic porch - alone. His heart leapt. She looked just as she always had. There was no disappointment that she'd somehow lost her looks and style living in this backwoods town. Of course the mode of dress was a little rustic, but that wouldn't last long. He watched in delight as she stretched and then made to step down. This time he'd definitely take the opportunity to speak to her. He waited a moment to see whether she might look across the road, seeking him. When she did not, he clamped his hat on his head and started towards her. He impatiently waited for a large, fast-moving wagon to pass and then when she once more came into view, he noted with disappointment, that she was no longer alone. It seemed that she and the editor of the Gazette were close friends. He clenched his jaw in frustration and once more took up his customary position on the shadowed porch to observe her every gesture and movement.

*************************
"When we're settled at Grace's I need to talk to you about Brian being out of school while he's away with you," said Michaela quietly, as she and Dorothy stepped into the street. "I'm having difficulty arriving at a credible excuse ..."

Dorothy chuckled. "We'll think o' somethin' Michaela .... Two heads are better 'an one ..." She was brought up short as Michaela abruptly halted and grasped her hand tightly. She swung around to face her friend only to discover her staring into the confines of the saloon porch. "Michaela?" she asked worriedly. "You alright?"

Michaela took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes," she replied quietly. "Come with me for a minute ... please ....?"

Dorothy regarded her perplexedly, but was given no opportunity to reply, as Michaela began to walk purposefully across the street, dragging her along. To the older woman's puzzlement, Michaela approached Adrian Tilson, the new manager of the Chateau, who was smiling broadly.

He stepped out to meet them, or rather to meet Michaela as his gaze was for her alone. "Ah Michaela .... we at last have an opportunity to greet each other," he said genially, as he briefly lifted her hand to his lips.

Dorothy felt the reflexive tightening of Michaela's other hand on her's and her eyes narrowed. There was more here than met the eye. "You two know each other?" she asked in stunned surprise.

"Ah yes ... we are old friends," replied Adrian dismissively.

"What a coincidence .... that you should end up living in the same town!" the editor offered.

Michaela turned to her. "I should introduce you ..."

Dorothy shrugged. "Oh we've met Michaela .... I asked Mr Tilson if I could write an article about him for the Gazette .... but he declined ..."

"Not a person to draw attention to myself," rejoined Adrian lightly, and then as if Dorothy wasn't there he once more turned his attention to Michaela, his eyes raking her features. "Its been a long time Michaela," he said sincerely.

She gave him a wan smile. "I must say I was surprised to hear you were working in Colorado Springs Adrian," she at last offered, striving to keep her tone neutral and friendly.

The Chateau manager shrugged his shoulders. "The opportunity arose and I took it," he said dismissively, but then added warmly, "It helped knowing there was an old friend living in town ..."

"Hardly that," she rejoined, her eyes narrowing. "An acquaintance perhaps," she suggested.

"Oh .. much more than that surely," disputed Adrian, his smile wide, undeterred by Michaela's reserve. "I'll never forget our nights at the opera .... suppers at the Savoy .... or at my home .... "

At this, Dorothy's eyes widened in surprise.

Michaela suddenly straightened her back. "With Miriam and her beau," she quietly clarified.

"Ah yes ..... but we had fun .. didn't we?" he added.

"Miriam ..... *Tilson*!," exclaimed Dorothy. "I knew I'd heard the name before .... I just couldn' place it. Your friend Miriam Michaela .... the doctor .... from San Francisco ..."

Michaela nodded. "Yes," she replied quietly. "But originally from Philadelphia ..... Adrian is Miriam's brother ...."

"Ah .... now I see the connection," observed Dorothy with a smile.

Michaela abruptly held out her hand to the man opposite her. "Good to see you again Adrian," she said, a barely perceptible touch of steel creeping into her voice. "But Dorothy and I were just about to go to lunch, and then pack for a trip she's taking. I daresay we'll meet again."

Adrian looked momentarily disconcerted and then shook himself. "Of course," he said cordially. "I know you're a busy woman. As you said .... I too am sure we will meet again." He bowed slightly as he added, "Good day Michaela .... Mrs Jennings."

Chapter 14

Once again, she settled into the chair by his bed in the recovery room, monitoring his condition. Occasionally, when Andrew finished with a patient downstairs, he popped his head into the room and asked about Freddy's progress, but in the main she sat with the patient alone for a large proportion of the day.

As the sky outside was beginning to darken with the setting of the sun, she once more replaced the now warm cloth on his forehead with a fresh one and then checked his pulse. A distinct movement of his hand beneath hers brought her eyes to immediately meet his, which were open and had lost the glazed look so evident when Horace brought had him into the clinic. He smiled at her and murmured croakily, "I told your mother that a man'd feel better just for having you in the room."

She blushed and lowered her eyes again to the pocket-watch by which she was checking his pulse. When she'd finished and concluded that his pulse was settling just fine, she again met his eyes and said softly, although there was a touch of teasing to her tone, "I assume you're feeling a little better?"

He nodded. "A little .... Thirsty though ....," he replied.

She immediately poured a small amount of water into a glass and then leant forward to ease him up a little so he could drink. His green eyes locked with hers and she blushed once more. He lay back down against the pillows and sighed. "You've been here all day?"

She nodded and disclosed softly, "Your fever was high."

He lifted his arm wrapped in a new, bulky and secure bandage. "What happened?"

Her eyes drifted to the wounded hand. "It was an infection," she explained. "There was a splinter of wood deep down in the gash. .... Ma hadta open it up an' find what was causing the problem ..." She gave him a rueful look. "The splinter was smaller 'an a blackberry seed."

"Something that small caused all these problems?" he asked wonderingly and then coughed.

Colleen immediately helped him sip a little more water. "Doesn't seem possible does it?" she mused. "But that's what it was ... Ma said it was probably sitting close to a blood vessel." She once more sat back in her chair. "I'll make you some more willow bark tea in a minute .... It'll help your fever ..."

"Willow bark?"

"Uh huh .... it's a Cheyenne remedy .... Ma uses it all the time .... You sipped on some this morning ... between sleepin' ..."

Freddy shook his head. "It doesn't seem to have done me any harm .... A Cheyenne remedy huh?"

"Mmmm .... it works .... I've drunk it myself ..." She indicated the glass again and when he shook his head, placed it back on the nightstand. "I'll get Andrew to come up and check you soon."

"Andrew? .... Your husband the doctor," he murmured.

"Uh huh, he's been up and down all afternoon .... after ma went home ...," replied Colleen.

"Probably don't need him now .... I feel a lot better than I did this morning," adjured Freddy. "You've done a great job."

Colleen blushed again and then said, "It was ma .... She knew as soon as Horace brought you in that something was wrong with your hand .... She worked on it for a long time before she found the splinter .... it was buried so deep down ..."

Freddy shook his head. "I never guessed there was anything in there .... I cut it on wire ... don't remember anything wood ...."

"It was a wooden crate wasn't it?"

"Uh huh .... but I don't remember touching it .... not enough for this to happen ..." He again lifted his hand and regarded it ruefully. "Looks like I'll be more a hindrance than a help to Horace for even longer now ...," he bemoaned.

"I'd say it'll be at least another full day before you'll be able to leave here .... I know Andrew will want to know that the infection is gone before he'll let you go home ....," explained Colleen.

"And what do *you* think?" asked Freddy. "Do you agree with that?"

Colleen shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not the doctor," she said gently. "But I'd like to know you were going to be alright before returning to the guesthouse."

"You already know a lot about medicine .... don't you Colleen?" he mused. "Your mother told me you've been working with her here in the clinic since you were a kid." When Colleen nodded he added, "When did you decide to be a doctor?"

Colleen leant back into her chair and replied, "Before ma came to town I didn't even know women could be doctors .... Then she came here ... and she was real smart .... and had her medical degree .... I watched her with her patients .... an' she was so gentle, but knew what to do and what to say .... I want to be like that ..."

"Came to town?" queried Freddy in puzzlement.

"Ma answered an advertisement for the town's doctor .... My real ma took a liking to her an' they became friends ..." Colleen lowered her eyes to her hands resting in her lap. "When ma was dyin' from a rattlesnake bite she asked Dr Mike ta take care of us .... an' she agreed .... though I think she was a bit worried about it at the time," she added in a small voice.

"Your mother .... Dr Mike .... seems like a remarkable woman ..."

Colleen raised her eyes to his and smiled delightedly causing his breath to catch. "She is!" she agreed with pride. "And I want to be just like her."

"Tell me about your plans .... What happens now .... and where you're going to study," requested Freddy with sincerity.

Colleen regarded him for a moment. "You're really interested?" she asked wonderingly.

"Uh huh .... I've never met a woman before who had such aspirations .... tell me," he implored.

Colleen again smiled, causing the same breath-catching reaction in Freddy. "Alright," she agreed happily. She settled back into her chair and began.

**********************
After her very busy morning and then what turned into an uncomfortable lunch at which she tried vainly to fend off a barrage of questions from Dorothy about Adrian, Michaela was glad to be home. She knew she should have been doing the pile of washing which sat in the basket by the back door, but currently she was enjoying the antics of her youngest children instead.

She was presently squatting down on the floor by the wingback chair, supporting William who was being cradled carefully in Katie's arms. For once, he was awake and not hungry and his smiles and squirming caused both Katie and Michaela to giggle in delight. "Gentle sweetheart," murmured Michaela reassuringly, as Katie began to rock him from side to side. The little girl glanced proudly at her before once again turning her attention to her baby brother. One little hand crept to his side and she tickled him so that this time he was the one to giggle. Katie's face was a picture.

Michaela continued to watch the bond developing between her two tiny children. It was a pity Katie was so young, as she probably wouldn't remember moments such as these. She wanted to reach out and pull them both close against her breast and protect them forever. They brought her such joy in being hers, small and individual. As Michaela watched and encouraged, she noticed several times Katie unconsciously brush back her wispy honey-blond hair from her forehead. At last she said tenderly, "Oh sweetie .... we'll have to cut your hair so you can see hmmm?"

Katie's reaction was one of horror, so much so, that she almost forgot the precious bundle in her arms and Michaela had to quickly support the baby so he didn't fall. The little girl shook her head vehemently. "No cut mama," she rejoined.

"Just the hair above your eyes sweetheart," Michaela cajoled.

Again the vehement shake of the head. "Want hair like mama's," she stressed. "Long ..."

Michaela smiled despite Katie's negative reaction. "Its alright sweetie," she responded. "You can still have long hair like mama." She quickly fluffed up her own bangs. "See .... mama has to cut her hair here so it doesn't fall in her eyes either." Katie regarded her intently for a moment, so Michaela added cajolingly, "You must get tired of your hair being in the way ..." The little girl at last nodded resignedly and Michaela smiled. "How about we put William in his cradle up on the table so he can watch and we'll do it right away?" she suggested, reaching for her son.

Now accepting of this new activity, Katie gladly handed over her tiny baby brother and clambered out of the depths of the wingback chair. She rushed across the room and pulled out one of the wooden dining-room chairs. Michaela smiled at her tiny daughter's enthusiasm for all things. She placed William in his cradle and then carefully carried it across the room and placed on the table.

It had taken Michaela some time to settle William, who was inclined to grizzle when he felt neglected, and then to get Katie to sit still and agree to the pinning of a towel around her shoulders, so she inwardly moaned when she was just about to start cutting and heavy footsteps were heard on the front porch. Katie was immediately alert, and when Sully entered the house, quickly slipped from her chair and into his arms. "Papa!" she exclaimed, as he lifted her into his embrace and she wrapped her arms lovingly around his neck.

"Hey Kates," he rejoined, kissing her cheek. He strode across and did the same to Michaela. When his daughter leant back a little, he spied the towel and asked, "What's this for huh?"

Katie patted her hair and said proudly, "Mama cuttin' my hair ..."

He smiled. "She is huh .... then what are ya doin' up her with me? ... Ma's waitin' for ya ..." He placed her on the floor and she immediately went back to her chair. Michaela gave him a grateful smile and again prepared to trim her daughter's hair. She was brought up short by an anxious father asking, "You aint cuttin' much ... are ya Michaela?"

She chuckled. "You sound just like your daughter. How about you pick William up and then you can supervise ... I'm only cutting her bangs .... They're hanging in her eyes ..." She gave him a playful look. "Seem to remember doing that for you a number of times."

He automatically reached up to the hair over his forehead which was also inclined to be a little too long. "Guess you're right," he agreed. He stood and picked up his son who was still wide awake. "You're lookin' real bright little fella," he said lovingly, as he sat himself on the chair opposite his daughter.

There was comparative silence in the room for a short time while Michaela at last began to trim her daughter's hair. Finally, into the quiet, Sully commented, "Hank turned up out at Matthew's this afternoon ..."

"He did?" rejoined Michaela.

"Uh huh .... said he needed some exercise ... figured carrying lumber an' swingin' a hammer would do ...."

"That was good of him," remarked Michaela concentrating on her task. "Please sit still sweetheart," she abruptly implored of her daughter who'd begun to swing her legs.

"Yeah ... it was," replied Sully sounding a little dubious. "Stayed all afternoon too ..."

"You must've got a lot more done then," suggested Michaela. "Please don't swing your legs Katie .... you're hurting mama," she added.

"Yeah ... he's a good worker when he sets his mind to it ...," agreed Sully. "But ..."

"But?"

"Well ... it don' sound like him .... volunteerin' like that ... don' it?"

"Well ... perhaps it was like he said .... he needed some exercise ..." Michaela suddenly sighed in exasperation. "I think it would be much easier to cut your hair when you're asleep young lady," she admonished. "I've nearly finished. Could you *please* keep still." Katie suddenly sat upright, picking up on the touch of anger in her mother's tone.

"I guess he coulda bin there just ta help out ...," mused Sully, ignoring the contretemps between mother and daughter. "But I reckon he's after somethin'."

Michaela glanced over at him in puzzlement. "After something?" she repeated. "Like what?"

Sully shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno ... but there was somethin' about him ..."

"What would you or Matthew have that he would want?" she asked, at last placing the scissors and comb on the table and removing the towel from Katie's shoulders with a flourish.

Sully stood. "I dunno .... but I figure we'll find out soon enough ... meanwhile he's good help on the homestead ..." He jiggled his tiny son. "I'm goin' up ta change William while you two ladies clean up down here." He smiled down at his little daughter. "Looks real pretty Kates ... even if ya ma couldn' keep ya still ..." He strode across the room and up the stairs, while Katie bustled around her mother's feet as she endeavoured to clean up the wispy locks of fair hair before starting supper.

*********************
Several times in the last hour or so, it had occurred to Michaela just how quiet the house was. Matthew and Kathleen had stayed in town to have supper with Colleen and Andrew and Brian was upstairs packing to leave early the next morning. When she'd last checked, a sleepy Sully had been rocking the cradle gently with his foot, while Katie sat on his lap reading her latest favourite book. After this morning's happenings, this was Michaela's idea of bliss. She put the last of the supper dishes away, rubbed down the top of the bench and the table with a clean cloth, and then wandered into the living-room wiping the last of the dishwater off her hands.

She glanced across to see that Katie was now on her feet close by Sully's chair. The little girl started guiltily and hid her hands behind her back when she heard her ma's footsteps. Michaela's eyes narrowed. As she neared, it became obvious to her what mischief Katie had been up to. "Katherine Elizabeth Sully!" she exclaimed. "What have you been doing?"

A previously snoozing Sully woke and stared dazedly at his wife and daughter. When he spied what was in Katie's hands, he paled and muttered in shock, "Kates!?"