Chapter 23

Michaela lifted the lid on the cardboard box and dropped the distasteful rose inside with the others, all in varying degrees of deterioration. After the trip to Denver, she'd decided that she couldn't just keep accepting the roses without saying something, that perhaps her quiet acceptance of them was sending a message she certainly didn't want Adrian to receive. Today's rose, white this time, made a total of eight, two week's worth. She took a deep, nervous breath. And today she intended to do something about it.

She left the box on the examination table and strode across to her desk drawer, from which she withdrew a ball of string and a folded letter. She walked back to the table, placed the letter atop the roses and then hastily placed the lid back on before she could change her mind. She cut two lengths of string and quickly bound the box so the lid wouldn't fall off. As if it were poisonous, she picked the box up, went back to her desk, dropped it on the top and slumped into her chair, suddenly feeling much less sure of herself. From past experience, she knew his reaction could take one of two different paths and surprisingly she feared both.

She'd agonised over the contents of the letter for days, trying to get the words right in her mind before putting them on paper. Time and again she'd screwed the paper up in disgust and consigned it to the wastepaper bin, only to begin once more. How did you get through to someone who seemed oblivious to your distaste, who carried on determinedly, despite any protestations and obvious lack of interest? How did you get through to someone who might, just might, turn from eager suitor to violent antagonist in the blink of an eye, without warning? Nobody knew what she'd been through all those years ago, not even her parents, or Miriam. Though the incidents were brief, and thankfully not debilitating, they had scarred her, if not physically, then at least mentally. She was well aware of that. If only Sully knew that Adrian had been one of the reasons she'd been so reluctant to be close to him at first.

Over the past few weeks, she'd toyed with telling Sully everything, but dismissed the notion each time. Sometimes she told herself she was being ridiculous - he was her husband and so he should know. Other times she shied away from the obvious confrontation, both between her and Sully, and then between Sully and Adrian, for she knew as sure as the sun came up every morning, that sooner or later there would be a confrontation between the two men. She'd seen, and appreciated, Sully's protectiveness towards her in the past, and therefore knew what he was capable of when made aware of all the facts ...

So she'd decided on this relatively passive course of action first. Her eyes fixed on the box sitting on the desk before her. In her letter she'd informed Adrian, as politely as she could, that she did not appreciate his attention, that she was a happily married woman and intended to remain so; while the roses were pretty, she did not welcome them as perhaps a single woman would; and that she was displeased with him for somehow entering the clinic when it was obvious it was locked against intruders ...

She sat back in her chair and frowned. She still didn't know how he was doing that. Each time she left the clinic she ensured that both the front and back doors were locked, and the windows closed, yet when she returned, the rose would be on her desk. It was almost as if he had a key! But that just wasn't possible. There were only four keys in total. Both Andrew and Colleen had one, as the clinic was their home. She carried hers in her skirt pocket always, and the fourth sat in the drawer of the sideboard at home, in case Sully ever needed to get into the clinic for anything. Feeling paranoid, she'd even checked at home to see whether the key was still there - it was. So how *was* he getting in? She wished she could arrive at a reason why the locks should be changed, one which would not arouse suspicion in her daughter and son in law or Sully, but she hadn't been able to think of one.

She eyed the distasteful package again. Now all she had to do was wait for opportunity to knock. The means by which she was going to have the parcel delivered out to the Chateau had worried her for a while. The last thing she wanted was to have a family member do it. She could only guess at what Adrian's reaction might be if someone connected with her put the package in his hands. No, it would be much better if someone completely neutral did it as a normal course of business.

For the next hour or so Michaela tried to concentrate on her patients and their files, but she often unconsciously checked the clock, waiting. At last there was the expected knock on the door and Freddy McFarlane poked his head into the room. "Alright if I come in Dr Mike?" he asked. "Got your mail ..."

She sprang up from her chair. "Of course Freddy," she rejoined with a welcoming smile.

The young man entered, handed her a small pile of letters and one package, and then, as he always did, glanced surreptitiously around the clinic.

Michaela couldn't help but smile. "I'm afraid she accompanied Andrew out to the Chateau this morning ... to visit with Myra," explained Michaela, knowing immediately who he was seeking.

He reddened, as he always did when caught out. He shrugged and muttered, "Oh well ..."

He turned to leave, but Michaela hailed him. "Ah ... Freddy ... are you likely to be going out to the Chateau today?" she asked, as nonchalantly as possible.

He turned to face her. "Probably this afternoon Dr Mike ... Horace likes me to wait for the afternoon train ... and then I take all their mail and packages out together ...," he replied.

She nodded and then asked, "I wonder if you could do something for me?"

"Of course ... anything ...," he instantly rejoined.

She took a deep breath, turned back to her desk and picked up the package. "Could you ... would you ... deliver this out to Mr Tilson for me?" she asked.

He immediately reached for the package. "No problem," he replied.

"I'd like it delivered to him in person if possible .."

"If he's there ... I'll make sure he gets it Dr Mike," replied Freddy. He tucked the package under his arm. "I better be going ... Horace wonders where I get to when I'm away ..." He smiled, nodded a good-bye and let himself out the clinic door.

As the door clicked shut, Michaela slumped back down into her chair. Oh God, what had she done? What was his reaction going to be?

A sudden knock on the door brought her attention back to the present and she hastily straightened her skirt, patted at her hair and assumed a smile which didn't quite meet her eyes, before pulling the door open to greet her next patient.

********************
"You alright Michaela?" asked Sully worriedly as he sat opposite her at lunchtime in Grace's café.

"Yes ... yes ... of course," she replied, straightening in her chair and smiling.

He frowned. "You just don' seem yourself ... like you're worryin' 'bout somethin'," he said with concern.

"I'm fine ... perhaps a little tired ... the clinic was busy this morning," she explained, none too convincingly.

"You aint overdoin' it are ya?" he asked with concern. "I'm sure Andrew'd ..."

"Andrew has enough on his plate," she interjected. "I'm fine ... I'll rest this afternoon ... at home ..."

"But ya gotta work agin tomorra mornin'," worried Sully.

"And I'll be just fine by then ...," she concluded determinedly.

Realising he was not going to get anywhere by questioning her further, he leant back in his chair. "So you gotta go back this afternoon ... or have ya finished for the day?" he asked hopefully.

She sighed. "I've finished for the day ... so as soon as we've eaten we can go home ..." Something behind him caught her attention and she smiled.

Sully swung around to see what she was looking at, then turned back to her, his eyes twinkling. "Looks like things are improvin'," he said with satisfaction.

Michaela watched as Jake and Teresa Slicker, arm in arm, located a table and Jake pulled out a chair and helped his wife to sit. It was obvious there was a closeness about them that hadn't been there before. As they began to talk, the barber couldn't help reaching out to rest his hand over Teresa's and her corresponding smile was warm and loving. "Oh .. I do so hope it works," Michaela sighed wistfully. "I was worried about not conceiving after just a few months .... They've been married more than a year ..."

"Well ... if gittin' closer's gonna help ... they're on the right track," mused Sully. "Wouldn' be surprised if somethin' happens soon ..."

"What makes you say that?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes I figure things happen a certain way cos they haveta follow on from each other ... like if Teresa'd got pregnant when they maybe didn' understand each other too well ... then havin' the baby might o' made things worse ... Now if it happens ... they're gonna be able ta talk to each other ... an' understand more about what's happenin'," explained Sully. "I reckon the spirits plan it that way sometimes ...."

Michaela reached out and laid her hand over his. "You see things so clearly sometimes Sully ... and yet so differently from many others ..." She leant forward. "And I love you for it," she added tenderly.

He smiled and turned his hand in hers. "The feelin's mutual," he rejoined. He considered her for a moment and then, his eyes twinkling, murmured, "Day after tomorra Michaela ... our anniversary ... just you an' me ..."

His eyes assumed a seductiveness which took her breath away and she blushed and then nodded in response. "Have you planned what we're going to do?" she asked softly.

"Uh huh ... got it all taken care of ..." He briefly raised her hand to his lips. "Let's hope this fine weather holds ... cos some of my plans're gonna be spoilt if it don't."

Michaela smiled. "It won't matter to me Sully ... we can stay home for all I care ... as long as I can spend the entire day with you .... celebrating ..."

"That's what we're gonna do Michaela ... celebrate," rejoined Sully enticingly. As Grace approached to take their order, he straightened in his chair and let go of his wife's hand. "Now ... I'm starvin' ... what's good ta eat Grace?"

The café owner chuckled and her look was enough to let the seated couple know that she had a fair idea of what had been going on. "Alright folks," she announced, her smile broad. "Enough of that ... I'm a busy woman ... fried chicken's on special today ..."

***********************
Freddy drew the buggy to a halt in the Chateau forecourt, jumped down and then reached into the back for the collection of packages and mail to be delivered to the front desk. He eyed Dr Mike's package and then decided to make a separate trip with that so he didn't get it mixed up with the others.

Inside, he handed the mail to Josiah at the desk and then returned to the buggy for Dr Mike's package. The clerk was obviously surprised to see him reappear in the foyer a moment later. Freddy explained, "Dr Mike wanted me to deliver this to Mr Tilson .. is he around?"

Josiah reached for the package. "I'll give it to him," he offered amiably.

"She said if he was here I should give it to him ... personally," rejoined Freddy.

Josiah nodded and retreated into the office behind reception. Adrian emerged almost immediately. "You have something for me young man?" he asked with a delighted smile. "From Dr Mike you say?"

Freddy nodded. "Yes sir ... she asked me to bring it out here for her ..." Freddy handed the package to the manager, who took it eagerly.

Forgetting that there were two interested bystanders, Adrian hastily removed the string and lifted the lid from the box. As soon as he spied the contents his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed to angry slits. He quickly removed the letter and then secured the lid once more. Raising his eyes, he realised he had an avid audience. "What are you two gawping at?" he exhorted angrily. "I'm certain you both have plenty of work to do."

Both young men reddened and then hastened about their business.

As Freddy descended the Chateau steps into the sunshine, he couldn't help but speculate on the contents of the package. He could have sworn he saw flowers! What sort of woman sends flowers to a man, and even worse to a man who isn't her husband! He hadn't known Dr Mike very long, but he thought he knew enough of her to know that she wouldn't do anything improper. So either he was wrong about her, or there was something very strange going on, something he didn't understand. Combined with that was the venomous, almost frightening look which had come into Mr Tilson's eyes when he saw what was in the package. Freddy shook his head. He'd taken a disliking to the man the first time he met him, but he wished he could pinpoint why exactly that was.

***********************
"The day's almost too beautiful to have to work," bemoaned Michaela, as she and Sully entered the clinic the next morning.

"It is aint it," agreed Sully. "Ya don' *have* ta work," he teased.

Michaela frowned and then smiled. "I do you know," she rejoined. "This is the one morning of the week Colleen and Andrew have a chance to do something together."

Sully nodded resignedly. "I'll settle William upstairs for ya ... then I'll head out ta Matthew's," he informed her.

He started up the stairs, but was brought up short by Hank calling urgently, "Michaela! Michaela! ..."

The barkeep didn't bother ringing the bell or knocking. He just thrust the door open and strode in, heaving a sigh when he saw her. "I've bin waitin' for ya to arrive," he said, a touch of resentment in his tone. "I need ya ta come over to the Nugget ... with ya bag ..."

"Is someone hurt Hank .. or ill?" asked Michaela, automatically picking up her medical bag and hurrying after him.

"Now I don' want you goin' on about it Michaela," he warned, as they dodged a laden wagon in the busy street. "One o' my girls got hurt is all ...it aint real bad ... but I thought ya should take a look at her ...."

Without further ado, he led her through to the back of the saloon and then up a short flight of stairs to where a narrow hallway of closed doors stretched to a small window at the far end. About half way down the hallway he halted, rapped on a door and entered. He turned and stood back so that the doctor could see to her new patient.

Michaela inwardly gasped when she saw the condition of the young woman who sat dejectedly on the side of the unmade bed. She schooled her features to remain passive and strode across to her, but couldn't help exclaiming as she stooped to examine the woman's face, "Who did this to you!"

The young woman shrugged and Hank reprimanded from behind, "I told ya not ta go on about it Michaela ... Myrna'll be fine ...just fix her as best ya can ..."

"She's not a broken chair Hank!" exclaimed Michaela angrily. "I can't just *fix* her ... and I'll be the one to say whether she's going to be fine ....She has severe bruising and this cut may even need stitches." She gingerly began to prod at the poor woman's face which had taken the brunt of what appeared to be a beating. Her right eye was almost swollen shut, the swelling above and below the eye an angry mixture of crimson and purple, the eyelid so misshapen it was no longer recognisable. There was a cut across her cheek bone, perhaps from a ring, and the skin around that too was swollen and bruised. Her lip was also split, giving her a lopsided look and there were black and blue fingermarks on her shoulders and upper arms.

Michaela winced and asked Myrna worriedly, "Is this all he did? He didn't ...." Myrna shook her head immediately and Michaela sighed with relief. She then asked again, "Who did this to you ... they should be brought to justice for it ..."

Myrna grimaced but then replied, "It aint nothin' Dr Mike ..."

"Nothing!" she exclaimed. "He's hurt you ... badly ..."

"I aint gonna say anythin' about it," Myrna stated stubbornly. "He's a regular ... an' he pays good ..."

"Surely its not worth it ... if this is the result?" Michaela exhorted.

The girl shrugged again. "It aint ever happened before ... fact is he usually treats me real good ..." She moaned as Michaela prodded at her cheekbone, then she took a deep breath. "Somethin' had him riled up before he even turned up here last night ... he was real angry ..."

"And he took it out on you," completed Michaela with repugnance.

Myrna lowered her eyes and murmured, "Probably won't happen agin ...like I said ... he aint ever bin like it before ..."

Michaela sighed. "Perhaps he'll acquire a taste for it," she muttered with disgust. She looked up at Hank as she worked on the girl's wounds. "Do you know who did this?" she demanded peremptorily.

"I know all my customers," he replied evasively.

"So what are *you* going to do about it?" she exhorted.

"Like Myrna said ... it'll probably never happen agin ..."

"But what if it does?! What if he maims her next time ... or worse ..."

Hank's jaw set. "I said not ta go on about it ... an' I meant it ... its my business ...," he said menacingly.

"You can't just let him get away with it!" she exclaimed, disregarding his black look.

"Ya don' know enough about it Michaela ..."

"I know that if he's the sort of person who can do this ... just because he's angry ... he's not the sort of person you should have around here ... especially if he wants to ... ah ... associate ... with your girls ...," she rejoined heatedly.

Mindful of Myra's precarious position as a new employee out at the Chateau, and the perpetrator's knowledge of their friendship, Hank muttered warningly, "Things aint always as simple as they seem Michaela ..."

"Why aren't they?" she demanded. "He's broken the law ... that seems simple enough ... and something should be done about it ..." She tried once more with Myrna. "Why don't you tell me who did it and we can wire for the federal marshall ...?"

Myrna shook her head. "I told ya Dr Mike ... he pays real good ... an' I like him," she returned. "Somethin' made him snap ... but it weren't me ... an' I aint gonna do anythin' more about it ... I agree with Hank ... leave it be ..."

"But don't you see ... he took his anger out on you ... You have no way of knowing what he might do next ... or when ...," pleaded Michaela, aware she was fighting a losing battle.

Hank had suddenly had enough. "Look Michaela ... the subject's closed ... Ya don' know all the facts ...Are ya gonna finish helpin' Myrna ... or do we wait for Andrew?"

Michaela sighed in exasperation. "She's going to need some time off Hank," she muttered defeatedly. "I won't stitch the cut ... but this dressing will need regular changing ... and a warm bath might help relieve some of the pain and stiffness from the bruising." Expecting to also receive a negative response to these requirements, Michaela was surprised when he acknowledged them with a nod. "So you agree?" she couldn't help adding.

He nodded again. "You're the doctor," he replied non-committally. "A good one .. until ya start meddlin' ..."

She shook her head ruefully. "Well ... I must say I'm a little surprised ... I seem to remember a time when you'd have had Myrna back in the saloon the same night ... bruised face and all ..."

He shrugged self-consciously. "Don't push it Michaela ... Maybe I learnt somethin' over the years ...."

She stood and stretched her legs which were aching from squatting before her patient. As she did so, she glanced around the girl's room. "Hmm ... the accommodation's improved too," she remarked, adding under her breath, "Not before time."

"Look ... if ya just gonna stand there ... criticisin' me an' the Nugget ... ya can leave," grumbled Hank between clenched teeth. "This is my place ... an' I'll run it as I see fit ..."

Her eyebrows rose and she said airily, "But it wasn't a criticism Hank ... I was just surprised that after all these years you'd made some improvements ... I certainly don't and never will ... condone the activities that go on here ... but I'm glad to see the girls at least have better working conditions now ..."

He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Alright ... you've had your say ... Are ya finished? ... I mean with treatin' Myrna ... I know ya aint ever gonna be finished talkin'," he remarked sardonically.

This time Michaela's jaw set. "Yes ... I've finished for now ... but I still think something should be done about the man who did this .... If I ever find out who he was ..." She trailed off.

"You'll what?" scoffed Hank. He stepped back and beckoned her out the door. "Come on ... had enough of you an' your prim an' proper ways for one day .." As Michaela followed him out, he turned back to Myrna. "I'll git Berta ta fix up a hot bath for ya ... some o' that oil might be nice in it ... make ya feel better ..." He pulled the door shut and ushered a perplexed and angry Michaela down the hallway and out of the saloon.

Chapter 24 [PG]

She walked out through the impressive entrance of the college library, a pile of heavy medical tomes in her arms, and sighed with exasperation when she saw the rain. Typical Philadelphia grey skies and drizzle! She wasn't impressed with the thought of a two block walk without an umbrella! She hugged the books to her chest, put her head down and set off across the marble portico, made all the more slippery by the rain and the mud walked onto it by people entering. She reached the steps leading down to the sidewalk and hesitated slightly. Her leather boots had been known to slip before on the smooth, stone steps, and the books in her arms meant she couldn't use the wrought iron balustrade. She took a deep breath and stepped down when there was a barely perceptible nudge from behind ....

It was almost as if she expected her feet to go out from under her. There was this brief moment of feeling nothing at all and then the panicked pounding of her heart as she realised that in a split second she was going to hit the marble steps - hard. The medical books in her arms flew into the air and she landed with a bone-crunching thud, then another as she slid down the next step and the next, arms and legs akimbo, the pain in her knees, back, hips, elbows, excruciating. She cried out and moaned in pain and anger. Then there was a sudden silence, as if the world around her had stopped. As though looking on, she was conscious of someone standing behind and above her on the portico, someone watching dispassionately as she continued to fall, slide, thud down the steps to the sidewalk. At last her fall ceased but every bone in her body throbbed fiercely and she couldn't catch her breath. She peered upwards to see him heartlessly turn his back and walk away and she knew! Her breath caught in her throat, fear overtaking the pain in her body. She needed someone to help her and she started to scream out, over and over, for the only someone she knew would never let her down ... "Sully! .... Sully! ... Help me!"

"Shh ... shhh ... Michaela .... its alright ... you were only dreamin'," soothed Sully, woken by her distressed, heart-wrenching cries.

Still disorientated, she clung to him, moaning over and over, "He pushed me Sully ... he pushed me ..."

He pulled her close and tenderly stroked her hair. "You were dreamin' Michaela," he repeated tenderly, concerned by the way she was trembling in his arms. "Nobody pushed ya ... ya home in bed ....it were just a dream ...," he crooned. In response, she took a deep breath and peered up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears, but before she could say anything, there was an echoing, loud, distressed wail from the crib at the end of the bed.

She sat bolt upright and exclaimed anxiously, "Oh God ... I frightened him." She made to spring up out of bed, but Sully stopped her. "Its alright ... I'll get him ... you stay there," he said, already out of bed and heading for the crib. He picked William up and cradled him lovingly against his bare chest. "Its alright little fella," he said softly. "Its alright ... mama had a bad dream is all ...." He walked back to the bed and handed the baby to Michaela who was reaching out for him. She immediately held him close, rocking him gently and soothingly. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm so sorry sweetheart ... I didn't mean to frighten you .." Gradually the little one's crying eased to hiccups and his rapid breathing slowed. "That's it ...," she crooned lovingly. "You go on back to sleep my darling ... everything's alright ...." She glanced across at Sully who was watching her intently in the moonlight. "What time do you think it is? ... Is he going to want to nurse soon do you think?"

Sully shook his head. "Sun aint up yet ... though its probably not too far away ... he should sleep for a while yet ..." He slid down and then reached for the baby. "Here ... let me hold him ... so's you can snuggle down under the covers for a while longer ..."

Michaela looked down on the now peaceful face of her tiny son. "Do you think he'll be alright?" she asked anxiously.

Sully smiled. "Course he will ... if bein' woke in the middle of the night once in a while is all he's got ta worry about ... it aint nothin'," he reassured her. "Now give him here to me ..."

Michaela kissed the little one's forehead and then handed him to Sully, who rested him on his chest. Once settled, he wrapped one arm around his sleeping son and spread the other towards her, beckoning her into his embrace. She edged down and then snuggled into him.

"You alright now?" he whispered, pulling her close.

She swallowed and then nodded. "I'm sorry," she murmured contritely.

"Hey ... everyone has a bad dream now an' then ... ya wanna tell me about it?" She took a deep breath and then shook her head. He frowned. "Ya sure?" he asked. "I'm a good listener ..."

"I know ... but I'd rather not relive it ... again ..."

"Agin?" he queried. "Ya had this dream before?"

"Mmm ... when I was much younger," she rejoined, nestling even closer.

"So what made ya dream it now ... if ya aint had it for a long time?" he asked worriedly.

She remained silent, knowing what had prompted the dream which had recurred often in the year after she graduated from medical college. If she chose to tell Sully though, she knew he'd ask questions she didn't want to answer. "It doesn't matter Sully," she said softly. She abruptly peered up at him. "Not a good start to our wedding anniversary hmmm." She smiled embarrassedly.

"Don' matter ... long as you're alright," rejoined Sully. He tilted his head, silently asking her for a kiss. When she obliged, he said earnestly, "Happy Anniversary Michaela ..." He gave her a loving squeeze. "Now ... are ya feelin' sleepy? Got a while before sunup."

"What about William? Do you want me to put him back in his crib?" she whispered. When he replied that he would put him back in a little while, she smiled with contentment. "Happy Anniversary Sully," she murmured drowsily. "Love you ..." She yawned and then sighed as she fully relaxed and drifted back off to sleep.

She woke an hour or so later as light spilled its way into their room. She was still firmly held in Sully's embrace and when she opened her eyes it was to see her tiny son only inches away, still laying sound asleep on his father's chest. His breathing was deep and even and every now and then his mouth moved in a sucking motion, indicating that it probably wouldn't be long before he woke to be nursed. She smiled and reached out to ever so gently stroke his tiny hand which lay palm down against his father's skin. She wondered momentarily whether Sully was sleeping and yet instinctively knew he would never have fallen asleep with such a precious bundle in his arms. A movement of his large, but so gentle hand on William's back told her she'd been right. She peered up to see him looking down at her. "Mornin'," he said softly.

"Morning," she replied, instantly edging up so she could kiss him. "Happy Anniversary," she said lovingly.

He smiled. "Seem ta remember sayin' that once already," he teased. Little did Michaela know that he'd been laying awake, worrying about her since her nightmare. He knew there was something on her mind lately and deep down was even a little hurt that she wouldn't talk to him about it. Maybe she'd open up during today, while they were alone together.

"That doesn't count," she rejoined, her good spirits revived by the realisation she'd be spending the entire day with her husband and tiny son. "It was still dark ... and I was almost asleep ..."

"So ya didn' mean it," he muttered with a mock frown.

"Of course I meant it," she chuckled. "But I mean it even more this morning ..."

As Sully's chest moved with his responding chuckle, William stirred and squeaked, preparatory to the wail they both knew would come. "Looks like someone's hungry," Sully said softly, gently handing their son to Michaela. "You stay warm there an' feed him ... I got some thin's I wanna do before we set out this mornin'." He immediately rolled out of the bed and pulled on his buckskins and a clean shirt. Before leaving the room, he couldn't resist bending down to kiss both his wife and his tiny son lovingly. "I'll be back in a short while," he said, his eyes twinkling as he left the room.

************************
Sully drew the wagon to a halt before a bank of trees through which they could see sunlight glistening on water. Wolf bounded from the back, almost before they'd fully stopped, and set off at an exuberant pace through the tangle of trees. Sully turned to Michaela. "We gotta walk from here ... but it aint far," he told her with a secretive smile. He jumped down from the wagon and then reached up for William, before assisting her down. "You carry the little fella ... an' I'll carry the things, then come back for the cradle," he said, reaching into the back of the wagon and withdrawing a heavy picnic hamper and a new, large and colourful blanket, an anniversary present to each other. Laden with these, plus a bag of William necessities, he led the way through the trees until they came to the water's edge.

It was a small clearing on an almost hidden inlet of Midnight Lake. Smooth, sandy soil led down to crystal clear water where the sun glistened magically. Much to their delight the beautiful spring weather had held for today and the air was clear, still, and in the sun, even warm. The magnificent old trees surrounding the clearing cast reflections on the still water so that at times it was hard to tell where the land finished and the water began. The inlet was so small, it could barely be seen from any other place on the lake, creating a privacy and intimacy which was almost palpable.

Michaela's breath caught. "Oh Sully," she breathed. "Its beautiful ... how did you find it?"

He shrugged. "Known about it for a while," he muttered sheepishly, pleased with her reaction.

"And you've never brought me here before," she reproved teasingly, her eyes drinking in the beauty of the untouched scene before her.

"Wanted it to be for somethin' special," he rejoined, spreading the blanket on the ground, half in the shade and half open to the warmth of the sun. "Can't show ya everythin' at once ..."

She chuckled and turned to him. "We've been married for *four* years!" she exclaimed. "And we've been ... ah ... together ... for more than that ...."

He strode across to her and pulled her into his arms, William firmly held between them. "If I showed ya everythin' ... an' told ya everythin' ... what would we do for the next fifty years?" he teased softly.

She dropped her eyes from his seductive gaze. "I'm glad there are still some unknowns between us," she murmured. She raised her eyes slowly, shyly. "I love learning more and more about you every day."

He dipped his head to kiss her. "Same goes for me," he returned, a momentary shadow crossing his features before he suggested, "Now why don' you git settled .. an' I'll fetch his cradle ..."

Michaela watched him disappear amongst the trees. She hadn't missed the brief troubled look. She was aware he was worried about her. If she was honest, she was worried about herself. She'd heard nothing yesterday from Adrian about the returned roses. Every time a knock had come on the clinic door she'd jumped, expecting it to be him, and yet he hadn't appeared. However, she had been momentarily unsettled when she and Sully returned to the clinic from Grace's to collect William and her coat and bag. A prickling at the back of her neck had caused her to glance across to the saloon where he'd been standing on the porch, just watching her, his eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. She shuddered. She thought she'd overcome her fear of the man years ago. With the passing of time the memories had faded, the dreams petered out, the fearful recollections put down to those of a young, inexperienced woman. It frightened her to realise that he could have the same effect on her all these years later, when her life and experience had changed dramatically. She glanced around. Out here though, with just Sully, the fears weren't as strong, the memories less vivid. This was what mattered, not the goings-on of a strange man from her past. She refused to even contemplate him as someone from her present. As she heard the crunching of footsteps behind her, she dismissed Adrian from her mind altogether. He was unimportant, even inconsequential in the whole scheme of things.

Sully placed the cradle in the shade close by and lifted William from her arms. "We'll let him sleep hmm?" he said softly. He bent to tuck the baby in, securing the blanket around him, and then settled on the blanket beside her. "How's that?" he asked.

She smiled. "Its all wonderful Sully," she said with delight. "I feel like we're the only two people on earth."

He chuckled and then abruptly stood again. "Ready then?" he asked, glad she'd given him the perfect opening.

Michaela regarded him quizzically. "Ready?" she asked.

"Uh huh ... for our swim," he announced, already loosening his shirt from his buckskins.

"Swim!" she exclaimed. "Sully ... it'll be freezing!"

"A little cool at first," he conceded. "But then we'll warm up."

She eyed him speculatively, having a fair idea of what that warming up may entail. "Oh we will ... will we?" she said softly.

"Uh huh ... ya comin'?" His shirt was lifted over his head and dropped to the blanket beside her.

"What about William?" she asked. "We can't leave him alone ..."

"Wolf'll watch over him ... why do ya think I brought him with us," rejoined Sully mildly. He called the now resting animal over and instructed him to sit by the cradle. Then he reached down for her hand. "So ... are ya comin'?"

She swallowed. "I ... I ... didn't bring my bathing costume."

He laughed out loud. "Neither did I ... we don' need 'em ...," he explained, his hand still held out to her.

"We don't want to get our clothes wet ... we'll catch colds ..."

"Got no intention o' that," he replied. "So ... are ya comin'?" he reiterated.

She tentatively placed her hand in his. "What if someone comes along?" she protested, as he drew her to her feet.

"Far as I know ... aint anyone comes here ... I reckon we're safe ..." He pulled her into his arms and then began to unbutton her blouse.

She smiled wryly and then stepped back a little to complete the task, removing her cinnamon blouse and green skirt, then stockings and boots. When she looked up he was standing before her in all his glory and her breath caught in her throat. He reached out to her again and she placed her hand in his, so he could draw her close. "Ya ready huh?" he asked softly, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Mmm," she replied with a nod, unconsciously raising her hand to run it over his muscular chest.

He edged his hands in under her camisole and began to raise it. "Don' reckon ya need this," he murmured softly against her ear, lifting the flimsy garment over her head. Then he eased his hand in under the waistband of her bloomers. "Or these," he added, slowly drawing them down, until she stood before him as naked as he. "That's better," he quietly boasted. "Much better."

She blushed furiously. "I .. I ...," she stammered, fighting the urge to cover herself with her hands.

"Its me Michaela ... just me ...," he said softly, drawing her up against himself, the heat of their bodies radiating between them. "There aint no-one else around ... an' I love ta see ya like this ... you're still the most beautiful woman I ever saw ..." Her eyes told him her senses were being stirred by his gentle touch and seductive teasing. He smiled. "Always wanted ta take ya skinny-dippin' ..." He ran his hands down caressingly over the soft skin of her buttocks. "Only I wasn' sure how ya'd feel about it .." He swept her up into his arms. "How *do* ya feel about it?" he asked softly against her ear.

She bit her lip and her blush deepened. "Wicked," she replied, her tone barely audible, her eyes and skin aglow.

He laughed out loud once more. "Good," he pronounced loudly, walking carefully towards the water. "Real good ..."

************************
"Brrrr ... I'm frozen!" exclaimed Michaela, leaving the water and hurriedly heading for the blanket where she knew Sully would have ensured there were towels for drying off.

He was right behind her, his smile broad. It hadn't taken her long to completely relax in the water. The isolation of the setting and a few playful dunks from him and she'd soon been challenging him to races and trying to trick him into her clutches so she could dunk him in return. But she'd been right. The water had been cold, *very* cold.

As she picked up the first of the towels he grabbed it from her. "Here ... let me," he offered, rubbing her skin vigorously, trying to dispel the goosebumps. When he paused, she picked up the second towel and reciprocated. Soon the moisture had been wiped from their skin and Sully turned her so he could towel her long hair dry. She stood in front of him, no longer embarrassed by her nudity and he couldn't help but smile. He loved it when she succumbed to his ploys, when she relaxed and stopped worrying about what the world might think. He frowned when she suddenly shivered. "You still cold?" he asked with concern.

She turned to face him and nodded, her body tensing. "I ... I think it chilled me through to the bone," she replied with a wan smile, her teeth beginning to chatter.

He chuckled wryly. "It were cold ... weren't it ... come here ... an' lie down," he entreated, indicating that she should join him on the blanket, which he moved into the sunniest place possible. She sat down beside him and then he gently eased her down onto her back. He began to run his hands over her cool skin in a soothing massage, from her neck, down over her full breasts, and her now flat stomach to her thighs. He could feel the coldness which had seeped into her flesh from the icy water. "Gotta git you warm," he muttered under his breath. He eased himself down also and then slowly and gently blanketed her with his body. There was silence for a long moment as he settled his weight on her, willing his body heat to warm her through. After a while, her arms came up to enfold him and she kissed his shoulder. "You alright?" he asked softly, lifting his head and brushing back her damp hair. "Gittin' warmer?"

She gazed into his loving eyes and swallowed, then nodded. His head came down a little, their adoring gaze unbroken, then down a little more. She moaned softly, finally raising her hand to his nape and drawing his mouth down to cover hers. The kiss, fuelled by the day's amorous teasing and play, sparked and then exploded into an ardent giving and taking of each other's love. Lips and tongues merged with urgency and passion and hands began to roam freely over bare and sensitised skin. Their breathing quickened and became erratic and their blood pounded through their veins. As they parted for a moment, Michaela moaned softly, and with a touch of humour, murmured, "*Now* I'm warm," before drawing him to her once more.

Aroused to fever pitch, Sully growled back in his throat, raining kisses on her face, neck and breasts. He sensed her body beneath him open subtly to him, craving a culmination to their desire. His lips avidly returned to hers and he eased himself down to an ecstatic joining of their two bodies into one. She panted beneath him, urging him to increase the rhythmic loving movements which stirred her so. She clung to him as their rapturous union climaxed in an exhilarating explosion of longing finally sated.

For long moments he lay over her, the quivering of his body mirroring hers. He was having trouble breathing, but was concerned for Michaela bearing all his weight. He lifted himself slightly but she tugged him back. "Not yet," she whispered. Her eyes raked his flushed face, and she ran her thumbs across his cheekbones, clearing the perspiration beading on his skin. "How can it be that it only gets better?" she questioned softly.

He smiled down on her. "Don' know," he gasped. "But I'm real glad it does ..." He dipped his head to kiss her lightly once more.

She ran her hands down his shoulders and around his back. "People told me this feeling would go away after time ... that the ... the ... excitement would lessen ... but it doesn't," she mused wonderingly. "Myra suggested it would become like brushing your teeth ... sort of routine ..."

Sully smiled and kissed her forehead, tasting the saltiness of her perspiration. "Don' reckon it ever will with us Michaela ...," he offered sensitively. "Like ya said ... we discover somethin' new about each other every day ... an' that's excitin' ..." He rubbed the palm of his hand tenderly across her damp forehead and brushed her hair back. "Each day I love you more ... an' each time we're together ... it shows through ... sometimes I just can't git enough of ya ..." He dipped his head again to kiss her deeply.

As they parted, she rejoined breathily, "It's the same for me ... sometimes I need you ... want you ... so badly ..." She lowered her eyes embarrassedly, her hands continuing to convey what she was too reserved to put into words.

At last, he whispered against her ear, "Happy Anniversary my heartsong ..."

She clasped him to her and returned, "Happy Anniversary ... my dear, dear love ..."