Chapter One

Elizabeth sat at the head of the table, put on her spectacles and flipped through her paperwork purposefully. Half a dozen of Boston’s wealthiest, most prominent women were gathered at her table, each absorbed in their own notes and paperwork. Martha and Fiona circled the table, keeping teacups filled and making sure there was enough sugar and cream.

Elizabeth picked up her pen. “Ruth, you should contact the Globe this week about donating free advertising. They were so generous last year.”

One of the women scribbled some notes on her papers. “Oh, yes, certainly. And Standish Advertising has agreed to print our flyers for free if we provide the paper.”

“Wonderful,” Elizabeth said as the clock chimed nine o’clock. “My, look at the time. We should adjourn. Ladies, I do believe this will be our grandest flower show yet.”

Martha rushed to the front closet as the women gathered their leather folders and handbags and made their way to the door. Martha helped everyone with their coats as Elizabeth saw them out the door like the perfect hostess. Elizabeth peeked into the dining room as the last woman left.

“Martha, clean up that mess for me, will you? I’m going to retire for the night. I’m exhausted.”

“Certainly, mum. Right away. Goodnight.” Martha rushed back to the dining room and began gathering the teacups and all the papers Elizabeth had left behind.

“Goodnight, Martha,” Elizabeth called, heading for the staircase. She pressed one hand to the small of her back. Time was taking its toll on her, as much as she hated to admit it. She had chaired the charity flower show to benefit Massachusetts General Hospital every year for twenty years, except for the year that Michaela and Sully were married. Even then she had remained heavily involved, acting as co-chair despite having to miss the actual show itself. But the last few shows had been difficult on her. She wasn’t her usual spry self. She had made a few minor mistakes that nonetheless irritated her to no end, misspelling some names on the invitations and nearly forgetting to contact a few of their biggest supporters. And physically, her bones ached, her arthritis was flaring up, and she found herself incredibly tired after the many long but necessary committee meetings. Her eyesight had been weakening lately as well. She found she couldn’t read a thing anymore without her spectacles and often a strong magnifying glass. Still, she and the other women managed to continue putting on a fine show and raising quite a bit of money for the hospital Josef had worked at, and she planned to remain chairwoman until she was on her deathbed.

Elizabeth smiled to herself as she ascended the first step of the carpeted staircase. “Elizabeth Quinn, you still have it,” she said wryly.

She took another step and suddenly the toe of her boot became caught on her petticoat. She tried to grab the banister but it was too late and she went tumbling down the two steps to the floor, landing square on her side. She heard a large crunch and a horrible popping sound, and instantly intense, paralyzing pain shot up and down her left leg. She struggled to speak, overwhelmed by the pain.

“Martha,” she cried instinctively. “Martha! Martha!”

The chambermaid rushed back into the room, stopping short at the sight of her mistress prostrate on the floor. “Oh, dear heavens. Mrs. Quinn! What happened?”

“What does it look like? I fell!” Elizabeth retorted.

“Oh, Mrs. Quinn. Oh, Mrs. Quinn,” Martha murmured, crouching down beside her and bursting into tears.

“Stop carrying on and go find Harrison, tell him to run and fetch the doctor,” Elizabeth said, gritting her teeth in agony. “For heaven’s sake, hurry!”

&&&

The children were playing outside in the schoolyard as Michaela walked across the meadow. She shielded her eyes from the sun and spotted the boys on one of the seesaws and Katie skipping rope nearby with a few other little girls.

“Byron, Katie, Red Eagle!” she called, waving cheerfully.

“Mama!” Byron shouted. He jumped from the seesaw, sending Red Eagle crashing to the ground.

Red Eagle recovered quickly and got up, following behind Byron. Katie abandoned the rope and chased after them.

“You came to pick us up!” Katie called.

Michaela enveloped them all in a tight embrace. “The clinic’s been so slow today. I thought you could come and keep me company.”

“I’ll help roll bandages,” Katie offered enthusiastically.

“How was school today?” Michaela asked.

“Good,” Byron replied. “We learned about reptiles.”

“Do you have any homework?”

“Not really. Just spelling and some arithmetic,” Red Eagle said.

“Good. You can work on it at the clinic.”

“But, Mama. We can do it later,” Byron protested.

“Yeah, I want to help you at the clinic,” Katie added.

“I want you to at least start on your homework first. Then you can help me out to your heart’s content,” she replied. “Go get your things and we’ll walk over.”

Katie, Byron and Red Eagle rushed back to the seesaw, gathered their books and lunch pails, and hurried back to Michaela.

Katie grabbed her mother’s hand and beamed up at her as they walked toward the bridge.

“Where’s Papa, Mama?” Byron asked. “Thought he was gonna pick us up.”

“He and Brian went out to Mr. James’ place to chop down a tree for him. Apparently it got hit by lightning last night. They‘ll be back in time for supper.”

“Why can’t he do it himself?” Byron replied.

“He’s old, silly. He’s too old to chop a tree,” Katie explained.

Michaela put her hand on Byron’s shoulder. “We should help out the elderly whenever we can. When people get older things that were once quite easy for them can suddenly become impossible. Friends should help their older friends.”

“Oh,” Byron said pensively.

“Well, what sorts of reptiles are you studying?” Michaela asked.

“Snakes and crocodiles,” Red Eagle said excitedly. “Crocodiles have big teeth. And their blood is cold.”

“Their blood is cold and they eat people,” Byron added.

“They do not eat people,” Katie protested.

Michaela noticed Horace jogging off the clinic porch and looking toward the meadow. He spotted Michaela and the children and ran toward them.

“They do too eat you if you get too close,” Byron said. “Mama, don’t crocodiles eat people? Tell Katie.”

Michaela stopped. “Something‘s wrong,” she murmured.

“What?” Red Eagle asked, looking up at her.

Horace approached them, out of breath. He handed Michaela a folded piece of paper. “Telegram just came in from your sister, Dr. Mike.”

Michaela knew immediately it was probably about their mother. Rebecca usually wrote her a letter when she wanted to tell her something. She only used telegrams in an emergency. She opened the paper with trepidation and quickly read it.

All three of the children looked up at her curiously. “Who’s it from, Mama?” Katie whispered. “Auntie Rebecca?”

Michaela folded the telegram and smoothed back the little girl’s hair. “Your grandmother had an accident. She broke her hip and had to have an operation.”

“Oh!” Byron said. “Don’t worry, her doctor in Boston’s gonna make her all better.”

“Can we send her a card, Mama?” Katie asked.

“Yes, of course,” Michaela replied. “Come on, let’s get to the clinic.”

“Want me to book you a ticket for tomorrow’s train to St. Louis?” Horace asked, a little surprised at how calm Michaela was remaining at the news her mother was hurt.

“No,” Michaela replied simply, grasping Katie’s hand and walking past him.

&&&

Brian took a long swig from his canteen and wiped his face off with his bandana. He and Sully had been working hard taking care of Eli James’ tree and had been patiently putting up with the grumpy old man’s criticism all afternoon.

They had chopped down the tree and now were cutting it into firewood. It was a project that was taking a lot longer than either of them had planned, and they both were getting tired and hungry.

Brian picked up the crosscut saw again and braced it against the trunk and Sully grabbed the other end.

“Pa, you know of any odd jobs around town?” Brian asked as they quickly began sawing through the thick wood.

“Odd jobs? Thought Miss Dorothy was givin’ ya plenty of work.”

“She does. Just lookin’ for more is all.”

“I can keep my ears open,” he replied. “Savin’ up for somethin’ special?”

He shrugged. “Just tryin’ to think ahead.”

“Plannin’ a weddin’ can really put a hole in your pocket,” Sully remarked.

“Weddin’? Who said anything about a weddin’?” Brian replied quickly.

He smiled. “Nobody.”

“What in tarnation’s takin’ you two so long?” Eli shouted as he hobbled his way toward Brian and Sully, relying heavily on his cane. “It’s damn near my bedtime. How’s a body to get any sleep with all the commotion out here?”

“We’re almost done,” Sully replied. “We’ll just stack this firewood for ya and we’ll be outta here.”

“I didn’t ask for firewood. I asked for my tree to get chopped down,” he retorted.

“Seems like a waste to just leave all this wood out here, Mr. James,” Brian said sensibly.

“Well, bring it back to the cabin then. But hurry up about it. Young folks these days, they‘re slower than molasses,” he said, turning around and returning to his cabin, muttering all the way about how his generation had been much more hardworking and diligent than anyone since.

“He’s sure an ornery old timer,” Brian remarked, shaking his head as they continued to saw.

Sully shrugged. “Your ma says he’s got bad knees, some days can’t even get out of bed. He used to be a real friendly man, on the town council a long time ago, ran a cobblin’ business. Now he’s stuck here most days alone. That would make anybody ornery.”

“Oh. That’s too bad,” Brian said, squatting down and piling some of the logs into his arms. “He’s right, we should hurry. Ma’s makin’ ham and beans for supper.”

Sully glanced up at him with a wry smile and sawed all the faster.

&&&

Byron rested his chin on his hands and watched Red Eagle quickly write down his answers on his slate at the dining room table.

“When are you gonna tell Mama?” Red Eagle asked, looking up briefly and turning a page in his arithmetic primer.

“I will. Soon,” Byron said defensively.

“Want me to tell her for you?”

“No, I’ll tell her,” Byron said firmly. He slowly got up from the table and entered the kitchen. Michaela was handing Katie a stack of plates to put around the table.

“Hey, Mama,” Byron said innocently. “Supper smells good.”

“What happened to your arithmetic?” she asked, opening a drawer and taking out some silverware. “Are you done already? Let me see your slate.”

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Well, you can’t.”

She put the silverware on the counter. “I see. So you haven’t finished.”

“No, it’s done. I did it in my head.”

She sighed. “Byron, just go back to the table and write the problems on your slate. You know better.”

“I can’t,” he murmured. “I don’t have my slate.”

“Don’t have your slate? Did you forget it at school? Oh, Byron.”

He looked up guiltily. “It broke today.”

“Oh? How pray tell did this happen?” She grabbed a towel and opened the oven door, pulling out a pan with some cornbread.

“Well, see, this rock came up out of nowhere and it cracked it.”

“He was playing catch with it,” Katie spoke up as she reentered the room and grabbed the pile of silverware. “He and some other boys were seeing how high they could throw it.”

“Shh,” Byron scolded.

“Byron, you have a dozen baseballs at school and you had to play catch with your slate?” Michaela opened a pot on the stovetop and stirred the beans inside.

“Well, see, we-” he replied helplessly.

“I can’t believe how careless you were,” she went on. “I hope you don’t treat all things we buy you like that.”

“No, ma’am,” he murmured.

“Well, Mama has a lot of patients right now who haven‘t been able to pay me just yet. It might be a few days before we can get you a new slate. Go find some paper on my desk and you can write your answers on that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said guiltily, turning around and glanced out the window as he thought he heard a wagon. His expression brightened when he spotted Sully and Brian pulling up to the porch. He bolted out the front door. “Papa! Papa!” the little boy cried.

Sully pulled back on the reins. “What’s wrong?”

“Gran’ma broke her hip,” he announced as Sully jumped down from the wagon. “She had to have an operation.”

Sully shared a concerned glance with Brian.

“I’ll unhitch the team, put the tools away,” Brian offered. “Go talk to Ma.”

“Help your brother,” Sully told Byron as he hurried up the porch stairs and inside. He found Michaela in the kitchen at the stove.

“Byron just told me,” he said. “What happened?”

Michaela looked strangely relaxed and composed given the news she had just received. She was wearing an apron and stirring the pot of beans while Katie pulled out some napkins from the drawer to put on the table.

“I’m not sure. Apparently she tripped on the stairs.”

“He says she had to have surgery, too.”

“Yes, Dr. Hanson operated on her yesterday.” She took the beans off the burner and selected a large bowl from the shelf next to the stove.

He stepped toward her and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “I’ll handle things here. I’ll stay with the kids. We’ll be fine.”

She glanced at him and began dishing up the beans into the bowl.

He looked at her with confusion. “I can get ya packed. Tell me how to help.”

“Pack for what?” she replied.

He let out a soft chuckle. “To see your ma. Thought ya would catch the first train out of here tomorrow mornin’.”

She shrugged. “Rebecca says she came through the surgery fine and she’s resting now. There’s not much I can do.”

Katie came back into the room and watched her parents timidly. “The table’s set,” she whispered.

Sully folded his arms. “Michaela, this sounds serious. Surgery at her age?”

“I’m not going, Sully,” she replied simply. “My sisters tend to exaggerate. And Rebecca promised to keep me updated.” She put a spoon in the bowl of beans. “Katie, go find your brothers and tell them it’s time for supper.”

&&&

Sully slowly rolled over in bed, opening his eyes. He touched the empty place beside him. It was cool. Michaela had been up for some time. The pleasant aroma of cinnamon and pumpkin and nutmeg filled the room. Perplexed, he got out of bed and made his way downstairs, rubbing his arms against the early morning chill.

“Michaela?” he called hoarsely, entering the much warmer kitchen.

He found her hunched over the hot oven, pulling out a steaming pumpkin pie with two towels. She rested it on a potholder on the table next to two other pies that were cooling. She was wearing her slippers and bathrobe and had tied back her hair with a piece of rawhide. The table was covered in a dusting of flour and the sink was full of dirty bowls and measuring cups and stirring spoons.

“What ya doin’ down here?” he asked.

“Baking,” she replied simply.

“At five in the mornin’?” he replied. “Ya hungry or something?”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I keep telling the children I’ll bake them a pie but haven‘t gotten around to it.”

“Smells good,” he said, reaching his hand out toward one of the pies.

She quickly swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch.”

He leaned against the table, gazing at her. “Ya look beautiful.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I have dark circles under my eyes.”

He reached his hand up and smoothed away a dusting of flour from her cheek. “Ya sleep at all?” he whispered, concerned.

“Not much,” she whispered back.

“Don’t blame ya. Ya must be thinkin’ about Boston.”

“Not really,” she replied quickly. She had always been a horrible liar.

“Michaela, I know how much ya love your ma. How worried ya are. You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on? You and your ma have a fight?”

“A fight through the mail?” Michaela replied, turning to the sink and rinsing one of the measuring cups under the pump.

“Knowin’ Elizabeth it’s possible,” he said wryly.

She smiled softly. “No we didn’t have a fight.”

“Then what is it? Why don’t ya wanna go?”

She turned around to face him. “Sully, of course I want to go. It’s just…”

“What?” he pleaded. “Tell me.”

Her lip trembled. “Do you know how much it’s going to cost us to send me to Boston and back?”

“Yeah, I do. So?”

“So you’re always talking about how we have to be so careful about money. Especially now that we have Red Eagle to provide for, too. All the children need new shoes, and Byron broke his slate yesterday. Did he tell you? And you really need some new boots yourself. The pair you have is practically in tatters. And what about the wagon? You said yourself we really need a new one, that we’re pouring so much money into repairs we might as well get rid of it, and-”

He held up his hand, stopping her. “Byron can share Red Eagle’s slate for now. And we can put new shoes on credit, pay it off later. The wagon’ll hold up at least another couple of months. I don’t care about new boots for me. I can hold off. Michaela, we can make this work.”

She swallowed hard. “I just don’t want you to think I’m spending our hard-earned money running off to Boston every time Mother has a twinge.”

“I never thought that.” He caressed her shoulder. “Fact is your ma’s gettin’ older. I always knew somethin’ like this might happen eventually. And if it did I always told myself we‘d do whatever it took so you could go be with her.”

“You really mean that?” she whispered.

“Stop worryin’ about money. The kids are fine. I’m fine. Just go be with your ma and don‘t think about anything else.”

“Oh, Sully.” She stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

He kissed her head and rocked her.

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Sully, hip fractures can be so serious. Even life-threatening for someone her age.”

“She’s gonna be all right. She’ll be fine,” he soothed.

“I suppose I’m frightened to go see her. What if she…she doesn’t recover?”

He stroked her hair. “She needs ya right now. Havin’ you there is only gonna help. It‘ll be all right. Once ya get there you‘ll be glad ya went.”

She nodded, holding him tighter.

He kissed her brow reassuringly. “Come on, let’s get ya packed.”

&&&

A warm prairie wind whipped across the plains as Michaela rested her arm on the ledge and looked out the window solemnly. It was the longest, loneliest train ride she had ever taken, and she wasn’t even halfway there yet. She was worried about everything, first and foremost her mother’s health and if she would even still be alive once she arrived. When she wasn’t thinking about her she worried about Sully and the children and wondered when she would see them again and how they would muddle through without her and she without them. And part of her worried about returning to Boston, going back to her hometown when so much more had changed since she had last been there. She had since married and had a family, and she was truly a Coloradoan now, with deep, stalwart roots there and a life separate and apart from everyone in Boston. In many ways, she had moved on without all of her old friends and family.

She clutched her medical bag in her lap. Boston was still the city she had grown up in, the place she had first embarked on learning the ways of the world, the place where among others, Elizabeth, Rebecca, Martha and especially Josef had helped to raise her and mold her into the adult she would become. Regardless that her mother needed her, she was long overdue for a visit.

&&&

Michaela opened the door to the hospital room. It was filled with colorful bouquets and had taken on a strong, pleasant aroma from all the flowers. Elizabeth was immobile in bed, eyes barely open, as a nurse finished changing her bandages. A feeding tube had been inserted into her nose and a long catheter ran down from beneath the sheets into a glass bottle below the bed. Michaela was shocked to see her mother looking so weak. Even when she was in the same hospital with hepatitis years ago, she had never looked so debilitated. Elizabeth had always been the rock of the family. She never got sick, never got hurt, and always had so much energy about everything. Now she was depleted of all her trademark strength.

“Mother?” Michaela called softly.

“We’re keeping her heavily sedated,” the nurse explained. “She probably won’t recognize you.”

Michaela placed her medical bag on the end of the bed and approached her, grasping her hand. It was cool and clammy. Michaela squeezed it.

“Mother?” she whispered again. “It’s Michaela.”

Slowly, Elizabeth turned her head to look at her. She raised her eyebrows ever so slightly at the welcome sight of her youngest daughter.

“You do recognize me,“ Michaela said, smiling tearfully. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

Elizabeth immediately squeezed, and Michaela was immensely relieved.

Elizabeth moved her lips slightly. “Mich…” she choked.

“Shh,” Michaela soothed, bringing her free hand up and stroking her brow. “Rest and get your strength back. I’m here now. Everything’s going to be fine.”

&&&

Dr. Hanson pointed to a drawing of the hip bone in the medical textbook on his desk as Michaela looked on pensively.

“It’s a femoral neck fracture, occurred just about here,” he explained. “I had her under the knife for two hours trying to piece it all back together.”

“Then it’s quite serious.”

“Any hip fracture is serious, Dr. Quinn. This one was no exception.”

She took a deep breath, looking up at him. “Will she walk again?”

He closed the book. “I’ve seen plenty of these kind of fractures over the years. Especially during the winter with the ice on the sidewalks. Unfortunately many patients don’t survive another six months, let alone walk again. Your mother is seventy-eight years old. I‘ve never seen someone her age make any kind of considerable recovery.”

“I’ve seen hip fractures too and they don’t have to be a death sentence. She’s strong. I know she has it in her to get better.”

He eyed her impatiently. “The femoral neck is a narrow structure with relatively little cancellous bone. In other words it doesn’t heal easily. She could develop osteonecrosis. If that happens there’s nothing I can do. And she’s also at a high risk for nonunion, a fracture that won’t fuse.”

“But if it does heal?” Michaela persisted.

“Well, then she’ll be very lucky. Then she may be able to learn to sit up, stand. Perhaps, and that’s a big perhaps, walk again. But Dr. Quinn, I caution you, you should approach this assuming she’s not going to get better. Assume she won’t walk again. Even if it does heal correctly, it’s going to take months. Once I’m able to send her home she‘s probably going to need someone caring for her day and night.”

Michaela bent her head, swallowing hard. “Mother’s never had to depend on anyone before.”

“That’s the reality of the situation. I’m very sorry.”

“No, I appreciate your frankness,” Michaela said. “Thank you, Dr. Hanson.”

&&&

Servants circled the table as Michaela, Claudette, Rebecca and her husband Marcus and Maureen and her husband Edward dined on beef tenderloin, green beans with walnuts and rosemary potatoes.

“Do you remember Father’s friend Mr. Moore? The banker?” Maureen asked. “He slipped on some ice last winter outside his home. He lived two months before he died.”

“Oh, yes, tragic,” Claudette remarked, taking a sip of water.

“As I recall Mr. Moore was at least ten years older than Mother,” Michaela said, buttering her roll. “And all hip fractures are different. Some can be worse than others. I don‘t know what kind of injuries he had but I can only assume they were much more serious.”

“Dr. Hanson said Mother’s bone shattered in a dozen pieces,” spoke up Marcus. “He said he’s never seen anyone recover from something like this.”

Maureen took out her lace handkerchief and dabbed at her nose. “Oh, I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe we’re going to lose our mother.”

“Apparently the only thing that ever brings you out here is Mother on her deathbed, Michaela,“ Claudette suddenly accused.

“Claudette, Michaela is practically destitute,” Maureen said. “We can’t expect her to make the long trip out here all the time. She has to feed her family for heaven’s sake.”

“We’re not destitute,” Michaela said defensively. “It’s just this recession has been hard on Colorado Springs. Everyone has had to make adjustments.”

“Tell us about this Indian boy you’ve adopted,” Claudette remarked, cutting her beef. “Mother said the only reason you wanted to take him in is because for some reason you and that mountain man can’t seem to have another baby.”

“That’s not how Mother feels anymore,” Rebecca spoke up firmly. “Now she thinks it’s a good thing Michaela and Sully taking in that poor little boy and so do I.”

“Well, none of the rest of us ever had any trouble getting in the family way,” Maureen said as one of the servants refilled her water glass. “I don’t understand what the problem is. You must not be doing something right.”

“She’s probably working night and day at that little hospital, just like Father did,” Claudette said disapprovingly. “No wonder she can’t have a baby. She never sees her husband just like Father never saw Mother. As it is it‘s a wonder any of us even exist what with the hours he used to work.”

Michaela felt her skin flush, mortified by the entire discussion. “Father was there for us. He was as attentive as he could possibly be given how hard he worked. And so am I to my family.”

“He was there for you, Michaela. His favorite,” Claudette retorted, taking a bite of beef and chewing indignantly.

“Claudette, please, let Michaela alone. She just got here,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “Can’t we share one meal together in peace?”

“You always defended her,” Claudette replied. “There was nothing she could do wrong in your eyes. Well, you left the house just four years after she was born. You didn’t have to grow up with her!”

“Couldn’t we change the subject, please?” Rebecca said, glaring at Claudette firmly.

Michaela cleared her throat, desperate to steer the conversation to more neutral topics. “Claudette, how are your children? I hear William is doing well at Harvard.”

“Oh, yes, he just started his second year. He loves it and of course achieves perfect marks every term. As for Mollie, she’s still off gallivanting around San Francisco writing for that silly paper.” She sighed. “She reminds me of you, taking off without a second thought for how everyone who loves her the most feels about it.”

Rebecca shrugged. “I think San Francisco has been the best thing for Mollie. She’s a very talented writer. And I understand it’s quite an exciting town these days.”

“She’s going to fall in love out there and never come home again, I know it. Just like her auntie,” Claudette said sadly.

“I do so hope you can find the means to send your children back East when it’s time for them to go to university, Michaela,” Maureen remarked.

“From the sound of things you’d better start saving now,” Claudette added curtly.

“You just can’t find Harvards and Yales and Cornells out West,” Edward added, taking a sip of champagne.

“Perhaps by that time there will be universities closer to home like that,” Michaela said.

“Oh, things are hopelessly backwards out there, admit it,” Claudette said as Martha refilled her water glass. “I’d just waste away out there without all the amenities we have here. You must be so happy to be home, to be waited on again, to not want for anything.”

“I’m happy to be with our mother when she needs us the most,” Michaela said. She laid her fork and knife across her plate. “In fact I think I’ll go back to the hospital right now.” She glanced at Martha. “Could you ask Harrison to prepare the carriage, Martha?”

“Oh, what’s the point? Maureen said. “They’ve got her on so many medications she couldn‘t tell a cat from a dog.”

“I’m afraid she is in quite a stupor right now,” Rebecca admitted. “Maybe it’s best you stay here, Michaela.”

“That doesn’t mean she can’t still hear me, feel my hand holding hers,” Michaela replied, placing her napkin on the table and standing up. Marcus and Edward stood up with her courteously. “It was lovely to see you all again. Good evening.”

“Good evening, Michaela,” Marcus said politely.

“Don’t stay too long, Michaela,” Rebecca advised. “You need your rest after that long trip.”

“I won’t,” Michaela said fleetingly as she left the room and Harrison helped her with her cape.

&&&

Michaela sat in a chair beside Elizabeth’s bed and flipped through an orthopedics textbook of her father’s. The book was old and outdated, but there hadn’t been very much new research on hip injuries in recent years anyway. A few doctors had been brave enough to try some experimental surgeries, trying to replace a portion of the hip with a prosthesis made of glass or some other material, but had met with little success. Surgery or not, patients usually died shortly after their injury, or if they survived, they faced a very restricted existence.

She ran her fingers down a drawing of the pelvic bone. It was such an important part of the skeletal system, connecting the upper body to the legs, allowing humans to walk upright and providing for a wide range of movements. It was typically strong and flexible. But osteoporosis, a common condition doctors also knew little about, weakened the bones in old age, making the pelvis especially susceptible to injury. And once an injury occurred, it was next to impossible to restore it to normalcy.

Michaela looked up from the book, discouraged. She leaned forward and held her mother’s hand. Elizabeth was sleeping somewhat restlessly, waking every few minutes to mutter something or shift uncomfortably. Nurses coming in periodically to poke and prod her didn’t help. Michaela knew she would have to wire Sully and tell him what was happening. Her mother was even worse than she had feared, and she was going to be in Boston much longer than they had ever planned for.

to be continued...