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For personal and select distribution only © April 1998
Sully awoke as a shaft of summer sunlight, which had penetrated the thick foliage of the oak towering above them, warmed his skin and shone in his eyes. For a moment he was unsure as to where he was, but a slight movement from Michaela beside him brought him happily back to the present. He carefully raised himself on one elbow to gaze at his beautiful wife sleeping peacefully next to him on the picnic blanket. They’d set out in the early morning sunshine determined to make the most of this next to last day of their two week honeymoon. They’d ridden high up into the foothills, strolled leisurely hand in hand beside a stream, and then removed their boots, stockings and socks and paddled in the icy water, becoming extremely damp in the process. Then they’d sat here, in the late morning, under this huge oak canopy to partake of the delicious lunch prepared for them by the staff at their Denver hotel. Their early morning start, combined with the light-hearted exercise, good food and high altitude, had left them feeling lethargic and so they’d stretched out on the blanket to rest before deciding what to do next. Both of them must have dozed off for it was now early afternoon. He found it difficult to believe that this eagerly anticipated two weeks together, away from the demands of their lives in Colorado Springs, were almost over. Tomorrow they would shop for gifts for the children and then catch the evening train home, arriving early the next morning. Then a new life would begin, a life he hoped would be just as fulfilling as this time together had been. He watched lovingly as Michaela mumbled something in her sleep and then a half-smile appeared on her face. During the past weeks he’d been delighted as she gradually relaxed with him, savouring their new intimacy and revelling in not having to keep to a schedule. She was still shy with him at times and blushed easily - something which endeared her to him even more, if that were possible. Suddenly the early summer sunlight moved with the breeze in the branches overhead and splashed across her face. He’d watched the sunlight play on her sleeping features once before, but that time was nothing like today. His stomach clenched with the memory and he trembled with long suppressed pain and fear. It was nearly dawn when he finally reached a shallow cave-like shelter high in the hills, safe enough and far enough from the dog soldiers to rest and to ascertain Michaela’s condition. She was clutched tightly in his arms against his chest where she had been sleeping fitfully for more than two hours - fear, pain and three days without sleep had taken their toll. He was unsure what to do next. Their clothes were still wet and dirty from the pond through which they’d had to swim to make their escape, and they were both desperately tired from the ordeal of the last three days. He gently placed her down and looked around for something he could use to cover the hard, cold ground so they could both rest more comfortably. With his tomahawk he quickly cut new, green branches from some young saplings growing nearby, laying them in a criss-cross pattern creating a soft nest, a little like an eagle’s eyrie. The sound of the tomahawk sharply rapping against wood penetrated Michaela’s consciousness and she woke with a start, suddenly calling his name frantically. He leaned down to assure her that he was there beside her. "I thought I’d only dreamed you’d taken me away from them," she cried pitifully, her body trembling. "You didn’ dream it Michaela, I’m here an’ I aint gonna let anyone hurt ya agin," he said softly. She looked up into his face for a moment, her brow clearing in relief, then she sighed, nodded and closed her eyes again. He reluctantly shook her a little. "I’m sorry Michaela, but your clothes are still damp. Can ya stay awake long enough to take off your skirt and blouse?" She barely acknowledged that he’d spoken but some subconscious part of herself registered what he was saying. She sat up and slowly began to unbutton what remained of her blouse. He would dearly loved to have helped her, but as he was unsure as to what she had endured at the hands of the dog soldiers, he held back. At last her damp outer clothing was laid out to dry in the weak, early morning sun and he tenderly picked her up and placed her on the pallet of branches he’d prepared. He gently reached out to brush her long and tangled hair back from her face with his fingertips before beginning to stand. Her hand suddenly reached out to grasp his. "Don’t leave me," she whispered pleadingly. Tears filled his eyes. "I won’t," he said softly as her eyes closed and she drifted off into a restless, yet deep, sleep. As the sun gradually rose higher above the mountain peaks in the distance he remained sitting beside her, her hand clasped firmly in his. All thoughts of getting some sleep himself were gone. He watched as the sunlight fell across her beautiful face, now dirt-smudged and scratched. He reached out now and, barely touching her skin, he gently traced where that myriad of scratches and cuts had been - on her temples, down the side of her cheeks, across her chin. Thankfully there were no visible scars from that terrible time. As had happened then, tears filled his eyes and threatened to overflow. He’d been so frightened, not just for her but for himself and the kids. As he watched her sleep, she began to shiver in the cool air and whimper in fear like a wounded puppy, her grip on his hand tightening, pulling him closer. He so desperately wanted to hold her but was afraid of what her reaction might be. What had happened to her during her three days with the dog soldiers? He’d seen before the reaction of women who’d been assaulted by men. Twice in the mining settlements, and once in an indian camp after a young Cheyenne woman had been attacked by a drunken soldier, he’d seen first hand the women’s reactions as they shied away from male contact, even their own loving husbands, fathers or brothers. He couldn’t bear it if Michaela was to recoil from him and yet he knew that he would see her through whatever trauma she may have suffered, even if it took years. Suddenly Michaela’s whimpers became cries and she called loudly in her sleep, "Sully!!" He gently stroked her hand and whispered to her, telling her that she was safe. His need to make her feel as secure as possible here in this strange location overcame his reserve, so, maintaining his firm grasp on her hand, he stretched out behind her on his side, pulling her back against the warmth of his body, all the while whispering words of comfort. She seemed to nestle into him, pressing her back against his chest, seeking his warmth and protection. He knew that he was on dangerous ground here, that Michaela might resent him taking any liberties, whether she was hurt or not, but he figured that at this moment she ‘needed some holdin’ and he would face the consequences when she woke. For the next few hours they lay like that - he holding her firmly against himself. Occasionally she would whimper again and he would softly whisper, "shhhh, I’m here, you’re safe," and she would softly stroke his hand in her sleep and her trembling would lessen. He never wanted to live through hours like those again - not knowing if she was hurt or how she would react to him when she woke. She still didn’t know that he’d held her like that for hour after hour, or at least she’d never mentioned it since. Looking at his bride now, lying so peacefully beside him, it was hard to believe that things could have turned out so differently. He recalled their joy earlier today when they’d waded in the stream, without a care in the world. He looked down at her bare feet peeking from beneath her long skirt. Around midday, with Michaela still sleeping soundly, he carefully rose from his place behind her and contemplated what their next course of action should be. Firstly, she would need something to eat and drink and then, after dark, they would have to set out for home. He dreaded that journey. He knew that the dog soldiers could well have been following their tracks all day and might in fact, be very close. He’d used all the skills taught to him by Cloud Dancing to avoid leaving tracks and had tried to cover those he’d been forced to make, but that had been difficult with Michaela in his arms and he’d no reason to doubt that these indians were as skilled as any Cheyenne with whom he’d come into contact over the years. He turned back to her as she moved restlessly in her sleep and reached for his hand again. His eyes fell on her bare and bleeding feet. When he’d wrested her away from One Eye, the indian had been trying to undo her belt and remove her skirt. Had that happened before? Was that why she no longer wore her shoes and stockings and why her petticoat and blouse were so badly torn? Every muscle in his body became taut and he began to tremble as his imagination filled with terrifying images he instantly tried to repel. He knew that if what he dreaded *had* occurred it would take much patience and love from everyone around her to help her through the aftermath. He was suddenly overwhelmed with an unfamiliar need for revenge and feared what his reaction might be if One Eye had indeed hurt her. He shook himself and returned to the urgent matters at hand - there was no sense in giving in to his fears when Michaela needed him to be strong. He stood and investigated their surroundings to determine where would be the most likely places to find food. He was reluctant to leave her, though in the last hour or so she’d been sleeping more soundly and peacefully. He tentatively moved towards a grove of trees, all the while listening for any noise she might make. He was in luck! He spied an abandoned bee hive only a few yards up an old and gnarled tree trunk. He quickly clambered up onto the lower branches of the tree and cut away a sizeable piece of honeycomb dripping with sweet amber honey. A little further into the grove he discovered a bank of wild blackberry bushes in early fruit and he hastily gathered as many as he was able to carry before heading back to once more take up his position at Michaela’s side. He ate half of the honey and berries he had collected and waited for her to rouse. It was now late afternoon and if she did not wake soon he would have to wake her because they must start out for home at sunset. Suddenly, in the distance he heard a faint noise which disturbed him. Could it be that the dog soldiers were so close already? He stood and moved forward into a clearing listening to the noises carried on the wind. He heard the sound again, but this time it was with relief. A coyote pack had their den nearby and it was the parents calling to their pups that he’d heard. He stood staring off into space, wondering if they would ever reach Colorado Springs safely. As he looked down at her now those memories threatened to overwhelm him. When she’d finally stirred and he’d summoned the courage to ask if she’d been ‘hurt’ and her reply had been in the negative, his relief had been so profound that he could only hold her and send a silent message of thanks to the spirits. He was well aware that the year that had passed since then could have been so incredibly different. He smiled as she again muttered in her sleep. He reached out to brush away a wisp of her long, coppery hair which had been blown across her face by the gentle, cooling breeze and then he slowly leaned down to kiss her softly. Michaela was having a wonderful dream. She was pleasantly warm and Sully was holding her so tenderly, pressing featherlight kisses to her eyelids, cheeks and lips. Gradually, his hand which had been resting on her hip become more intimate as he moved to her waist, her midriff and then to lightly cup the roundness of her breast. Then he slid his hands under her and his hold tightened as his mouth began to move more insistently on hers. She couldn’t help but respond to him, arching her back sensuously, losing herself in the moment which felt as if it would go on forever. As she opened her eyes and recognised her surroundings, she was instantly aware that it was not a dream. Sully *was* leaning over her, loving her, and she *was* responding as she’d been doing in her dream. She blushed and lowered her eyes. Whatever would Sully think of her? He stopped and placed his thumb under her chin, slowly raising her eyes to meet his. And then he smiled - a smile which lit up his face and made her glad to be alive. His mouth came down to cover hers again and his arms gently clasped her close to him as if he would never let go. As the kiss ended Michaela smiled shyly and reached up to brush his long sun-bleached hair back from his face. "I love you," she whispered. He kissed her again lightly on the mouth in reply before saying quietly, "Well, what do you wanna do now ... its still early afternoon .... plenty of time ...... sun won’t set ‘til after seven." "Then we’ve got time to stay here a little longer, haven’t we," she said enticingly, as she pushed him gently back down onto the blanket, rested her head on his chest and slipped her hand inside his shirt to rest over his heart. Sully’s hands came up to gently hold her close. She recalled the first time she’d been woken from her sleep by Sully’s kisses. His lips were moving softly on hers, not demanding, just very tender and loving. His breath was stirring her hair and his hand was softly stroking her back and shoulder in a sort of rhythmic synchronisation with the movement of the train bearing them to Denver. She was lying on her side in his arms and she blushed as she realised that the pretty, embroidered nightgown which Dorothy had made for her, was still packed away in her bag at the foot of their bed. She was suddenly aware of the glimmer of dawn sun filtering through the blinds of the train carriage, the crumpled white sheet barely covering them, the heat of his skin against hers, her leg hooked over his and resting against him, his gentle hands caressing her skin ...... All that had happened between them since boarding this train late yesterday afternoon to the cheerful farewells of their family and friends, flooded her thoughts and senses. Sully had been so gentle, patient and loving and her response to him had been far beyond anything her imagination had conjured up during the months leading up to their wedding. She was conscious of unaccustomed sensations in parts of her newly awakened body and she stretched experimentally. She shyly peered up at his face to discover that he was watching her, a tender sensuous smile on his face. Her skin tingled and those parts of her body reacted as if he had touched them. "Mornin’," he said quietly before once again kissing her softly. She blushed, then replied just as softly, "Morning." He gently brushed her hair back from her face and and then once again took up the gentle caressing of her body which, combined with his kiss, had awakened her. He asked wth loving concern, "Are you alright?" "Mmmmm ...." she answered softly, her soft caress of his chest with her fingertips more indicative of how she was feeling than her verbal reply. "Good," he commented with a smile. "Won’t be long an’ we’ll haveta git up ..... can’t be too long outta Denver." She was suddenly once more the blushing bride. Her eyes lowered and closed and her brow creased in consternation. How did one act in this situation? She’d have felt a lot more comfortable if that pretty nightgown wasn’t folded up in one of the bags! Sully seemed to read her thoughts. "Would ya like me to git your things outta the bags?" he asked, a slight mischievious smile on his lips. "Yes please," she answered in a whisper. Sully gently unhooked her leg from his, withdrew his arm from underneath her, lowered the sheet even further and rolled to the side of the bed. His broad and tanned back was to her and she blushingly watched as her husband rose boldly from the bed and moved towards the bags. She was all at once overwhelmed with her love for him - a love that was now physical as well as emotional. She had felt nervous and unsure of herself for so long about this part of marriage and still felt out of her depth (a feeling which was unfamiliar and which she therefore deplored). But *he* was so unselfconscious and she envied him for it. She knew he’d been married before and so being with a woman was not new to him. Consequemtly, she very much wanted to be assured and to please him. He turned to find her watching him, her doubts written so clearly on her face, and his mischievous smile lit up his face once more. Her blush returned and deepened as she turned her eyes away and pulled the sheet up a little higher. He stood and walked to her side of the bed, crouching down so that his face was level with hers. He gently cupped her face with his hands and brought her eyes round to look into his. Then he said quietly and lovingly, "Its alright Michaela ...... we’ll still take it real slow ........ I love you an’ I want you to be happy ....... especially when you’re alone with me." She sighed and he caught the sigh with his kiss, reaching out to hold her for a moment before standing and returning to search through their bags. Her heart was beating a little faster with the memory - was that only two weeks ago? She would never forget Sully’s gentleness and patience and she was aware of just how much she’d changed and learnt during this wonderful time together in Denver. She was still shy and unsure of herself at times, but Sully had shown her that them being together was not something to be ashamed of, nor a duty as her mother had suggested, but that it *was* a beautiful way to express their love for each other. She looked up at him, love shining in her eyes, and reached out to grasp his hand in hers. Sully clasped her hand gently in return, raising it to his lips, and suddenly, almost against his will, he was once more transported back to that painful time ..... He, Michaela and the children made their way slowly towards the clinic. They’d just had to perform what was probably the most painful task anyone should ever have to do - inform a loving father that his only son has been killed. He would never forget the look of agony in Cloud Dancing’s eyes when he asked if the army was responsible for Walks On Clouds’ death. But it had been the dog soldier, One Eye, who had shot the young brave, after he assisted Michaela in her escape from the dog soldiers’ camp. Their hearts were heavy and there was little joy in their return to Colorado Spings. Michaela didn’t make it as far as the clinic. Her legs suddenly buckled under her and she began to slip to the ground. Matthew, who’d been walking on her other side, caught her as she fell and then swept her up off her feet into his arms, hurrying the last few yards to the clinic door. Colleen and Brian followed anxiously only a few feet behind. Inside the clinic Sully quickly told the children as much as he knew about what had happened to Michaela during the past three days and Colleen immediately attended to her ma’s injuries, especially her feet which were red raw and starting to bleed again. The stinging of the iodine roused Michaela and she looked around, anxiously seeking him. "Sully?" she called weakly. "I’m here Michaela .... so are the kids ..... we’re just lookin’ after ya scratches an’ sore feet," he said gently, once again taking her hand. "Sully, I want to go home ..... please ...." she pleaded softly. He understood. Home was where she felt safe, where she could be with her kids, where her familiar belongings were. "As soon as you’re patched up Matthew’ll fetch the wagon and we’ll go," he promised. At the homestead the kids did all they could for he and Michaela, even fixing them both warm baths. At last all the lamps had been extinguished, the kids had gone to bed and he should have been heading towards his lean-to in the woods. But he couldn’t go. All through a subdued supper and then afterwards sitting in front of the fire she’d frequently sought his eyes, his silent reassurance that everything was alright. How could he leave her now? She lay tucked up in bed beneath the patterned quilt looking small and defenceless. He softly kissed her goodnight, gave her hand on the covers a reassuring pat and walked out the door. But he did not go any further. In his hands he held the colourful indian blanket from her rocker which he spread on the porch floor beneath her window. He stretched out on the hard, wooden boards hoping that if he did succumb to the sleep which was overwhelming him he would still hear her if she called out. He’d warned Colleen that she might do so, that she shouldn’t be frightened and that he’d be there for Michaela if she needed him. He suddenly woke, aware that someone had called his name. His joints and muscles were stiff and painful and it was pitch black, the moon hidden by heavy cloud. There it was again - the same weak cry. Michaela! He scrambled up off the rough boards and quietly pushed the homestead door open. She was thrashing her hands about, calling his name and whimpering in her sleep. As he’d done for most of yesterday he clasped her hand and gently reassured her that he was there and no-one was going to hurt her. She quietened almost instantly and he lovingly stroked her hand and continued the soft whispers. Deciding that once again conventions would have to be put aside, he sat himself on the floor beside her bed, his back against the wooden night stand, her hand clasped in his, until the dawn sky heralded a beautiful sunny new day, at which time he once again retreated to his blanket out on the porch. Michaela sensed a change in Sully, his gentle caress had ceased and been replaced with a tautening of his muscles and an almost fierce grip on her arms and shoulders. She looked up at him. His eyes were unseeing, focussed on something a million miles away. "Sully," she said softly. Now his loving gaze did focus, his eyes meeting hers, and his hand came up to tenderly trace her features with his fingertips from her temple to her chin. She whispered, "Sully, what were you thinking just now." Sully looked at her in confusion and his brow creased as he wondered what to say. "It was nothin’ Michaela ..... just somethin’ from a year or two back," he muttered vaguely. "But right now I wanna concentrate on the present an’ you." Michaela knew that he’d been thinking about something from the past which had disturbed him but she also knew that no amount of pressure would ever persuade him to tell her unless he was ready. She again rested her head on his chest and held him gently, providing what comfort she could. As she had so many times since she’d known him, she worried about Sully and his reluctance to talk about himself and his past. At last all the excitement had died down a little. The Washington police had taken Senator Stewart and Detective Simpson away, their hands tied, and a majority of the guests had left the White House, talking animatedly about the evening’s excitement and developments. She and Sully sat side by side on a red velvet sofa in an alcove off the main concert hall, the children at their feet. They sat in exhausted and relieved silence but it was noticeable that each needed to touch the other to establish that they were truly safe and all together again. Julia Grant pulled back the velvet drapes providing them with some protection from prying eyes and took in the scene before her. "Ahh, there you are," she said. She looked at each tired face. "I expect that you’ll want to get some sleep," she said quietly. Michaela looked up at her a little sheepishly. "I’m afraid we have nowhere to go ..... its too late to book rooms at our hotel. You see, I didn’t expect that we’d be back ..... and the children were supposed to be on a train to St Louis." Mrs Grant took charge immediately. "Well, you’ll stay here," she said decisively. "You can use the rooms you were in before, for as long as you like ....... I ..... the entire country ..... owe you a great debt of gratitude Michaela, Mr Sully." Michaela felt too tired to protest as she would have under less unusual circumstances. She nodded gratefully and then Sully spoke for them both, "Thank-you Mrs Grant, we’d be obliged .... but I think it’ll only be for the one night ..... somethin’ tells me we’d all like to go home." This statement was greeted with vigorous nods from the children and a tightening of the clasp on his hand from Michaela. The children were in bed and asleep in what seemed like minutes. Mrs Grant sent a servant to collect their bags from the train station and instructed the maids to ensure that there was plenty of hot water for baths for Michaela and Sully. Michaela was walking back down the softly carpeted hallway towards the room she was sharing with Colleen when Sully stepped out of his doorway and stopped her. As her thoughts had been concentrated on him all the time she’d been bathing she did not react with surprise. Like hers, his hair was wet from his bath, and he’d at last been able to don his accustomed buckskins and flowing shirt after days of wearing the despised soldier’s uniform and then the old trousers and shirt loaned to him by the negro woman in the Freedman’s Village. He smiled wryly at her as if he’d read her thoughts and then reached for her hand, drawing her into his room and closing the door quietly. As soon as the door was fully closed he gently pulled her into his arms and stood holding her for what seemed an eternity. She was content to stand there embracing him, and being embraced, for as long as he wanted. All thoughts of the impropriety of their actions were put aside. For days she’d wondered if she would ever be able to hold him again or have him hold her, whether they’d ever have the opportunity to make their dreams for the future come true, and now the ordeal was over and soon they would be on their way home. Suddenly, Sully’s hold on her tightened and she felt a tear drop on to her forehead. She raised her eyes to his. "Sully?" she said quietly. He dropped his eyes and then whispered, "I’m so sorry Michaela." She reached up to wipe away the tears running silently down his cheeks. "Its alright Sully, it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know what might happen if you came to Washington or who was behind that terrible incident so many years ago. Its my fault really, I was the one who persuaded you to come with us." "That aint true Michaela. I just didn’t think." "Hush, we’re safe ..... and free .... now," she said soothingly, holding him tight once again. A few moments passed before she said calmly, "Why didn’t you ever tell me?" He knew instantly what she was referring to. He shrugged his shoulders and turned his head away from her. "I dunno Micheala ..... that short time in the army an’ killin’ that businessman was somethin’ I wanted to forget ..... to push the memory so far back that I could pretend it’d never happened .......... only it never worked out like that .... I always felt so ashamed ...... so guilty ......." She reached up to cup his face in her hands and turned his eyes to hers. "I know you’ll never forget what happened Sully and I know that you won’t believe me when I say that you have no reason to feel guilty - *you didn’t know ...... they didn’t tell you what your real assignment was ....... you weren’t to know that those giving the orders were corrupt*." His head dropped and he sighed deeply. She once again raised his eyes to meet hers and then said, "Sully, when we were first courting you told me that we shouldn’t ever keep secrets from each other. You can tell me anything ......... I’ll understand ..... or at least try to." "Michaela, there’s so much in my past I don’ wanna remember," he said quietly. "I know," she replied just as quietly. "But bottling things up inside doesn’t do any good. I want you to know that you can tell me anything - I’ll be ready to listen. I want to know about you and what you did before you met me .... the good and the bad." Michaela sighed and continued to hold him close. Sully’s senses were centred on Michaela’s hand gently caressing his chest and her breath as it ruffled the soft material of his shirt. He could lie together with her like this forever and be happy and yet this last day was passing them by. "Michaela," he said softly, rousing her from her reveries. "Time we were doin’ somethin’ ‘stead of wastin’time," he said with a smirk. She looked up to see if he was serious and caught the glint in his eye. She smiled and then retorted softly, "We’re not wasting time Sully ........ being together like this could never be wasting time. But I *have* become very lazy these past two weeks ..... you might notice quite a difference in me when we get home." She sat up to guage for herself his reaction to her words. He tried desperately to keep a straight face but both of them were well aware of Michaela’s habit of letting medicine run her life. He pulled a face at her, leaned across and gave her a light peck on the cheek and said, "Well I’m gonna fill the canteens in the stream while you put on your stockings and boots and then we’ll decide where to head next." He walked a few yards down the centuries old trail made by animals in search of water and squatted on his haunches where the bank was at its most shallow to fill the canteens. As the water gurgled beneath his hands, he turned his head to watch Michaela. She was smoothing her black stocking over her calf and knee and he realised that watching her do something as simple as this gave him as much pleasure as escorting her to fancy restaurants and concerts, where she was invariably the most beautiful woman present, or even riding beside her on the trail. He would never tire of watching her brush her long coppery hair at night, or seeing her stand in her petticoat at the cupboard musing over what to wear to suit a particular occasion, or helping her with the intricate rows of tiny buttons or clasps at the back of her dresses. Being there as part of these everyday happenings meant much more to him that Michaela would ever realise after his years of self-imposed exile out in the wilderness. There was so much about her that he loved. Watching her tend to her patients, bringing them back from life-threatening situations - Brian when he fell out of the tree, Colleen when she caught pneumonia, Grace when she had a piece of glass in her eye, Black Kettle when he’d been shot - he was so proud and awed by her skill and manner as a doctor. Or watching her stand up to the bullying of Jake and Hank, or defending her beliefs and convictions in church, at the town council, or before a district judge - her ability to move people amazed him. But only *he* saw the other side of her. He was the only one she had *let* see that other vulnerable, uncertain woman she was - the woman who’d been afraid to love, who doubted her skills as a mother, who desperately sought respect as a doctor, and love as a woman and mother. Over the years he’d tried in so many ways to convince her that it was alright to doubt herself, to seek advice, to love unconditionally, and he had to admit she’d changed considerably since her arrival in Colorado Springs just three years ago. But if there was one silent vow he’d made to himself, it was to convince her further that she didn’t have do everything, be good at everything, and that people would love her for who she was, rather than the woman she let them see. The canteens now full, he returned in time to brush Michaela’s hands away from her boots so that he could tie them up for her. When he’d finished he pulled her to her feet and briefly into his arms, giving her a loving hug before leading her across to the grove of trees where the horses were tethered. They decided to retrace their steps of last week in the hope of spying the deer whose tracks they’d noticed high on a ridge in the foothills. They rode for some time in companiable silence, becoming one with the woods and its creatures around them. And yet Michaela couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to another sunny day much like this one. They stood on the heavily grassed slope, bathed in warm fall sunlight, enfolded in each other’s arms. They were surrounded by an intricate pattern of wooden pegs hammered into the ground and joined by lengths of fine cord strung between them. Sully had just explained to her that this was the layout for their new homestead. *Their* homestead - how strange that sounded! And how wonderful it sounded. He had such big plans - a separate livingroom with a huge fireplace, a kitchen with an indoor pump, and *four* bedrooms. She blushed and held him a little tighter. He’d told her - one for Brian, one for Colleen, a little bedroom over there, and ‘our’ room. *Our* room! Her heart beat a little faster. Sully stepped back from her a little and said, "I’ll git the picnic basket while you pick a spot to sit." When he returned she was still standing where he’d left her, lost in thought. He smiled and asked, "Do you wanna eat in the kitchen or the livingroom?" She looked at him then, a confused frown appearing on her face. She saw the laughter in his eyes and then smiled in realisation. "The kitchen I think," she said with a chuckle. He spread the colourful blanket on the grassy slope, which would soon be covered and transformed into their new homestead, and they sat together to eat and enjoy the uninterrupted view of the mountains in the distance. Sully had startled her a little by revealing that he’d thought about, and even hoped for, the possibility of children and had even included an extra bedroom in the plans for the house. Thinking about it now she wondered why she had been startled. Just watching him with Brian, Colleen and Matthew, she knew that he was a born father but his lifestyle in all the time she’d known him had prevented her from thinking of him in this conventional role. But hadn’t he changed enough to contemplate spending his life with her, building her a house? Why would Sully as a father surprise her? If she was honest with herself, him speaking of it had actually stirred her own deeply buried longings. She could remember telling Colleen many years ago that it was difficult as a woman competing in a man’s world but that there was one thing a man could never do and that was to nurture and bear new life. After David was lost in the war she’d given up on ever fulfilling her deeply personal dream of one day bearing children with a loving husband. Now Sully was giving her the opportunity to live that dream with him. She looked up to see Sully watching her. She knew that her face was flushed and that he had an uncanny knack of reading her thoughts. She lowered her eyes and he reached out to place his hand over hers resting on the picnic blanket. "Whatya thinkin’ about?" he asked quietly. She was unsure as to what to reply. Her head was spinning with dreams of the future. "Its actually happening isn’t it?" she said softly. "I’ve dreamed about it for a long time but I didn’t know whether we’d ever actually make it." He smiled and then said with a chuckle, "Sure its happenin’ Michaela. I think we’ve waited long enough to know whether we’re *compatible*." She laughed then, recalling a conversation they’d had in the woods just after they began courting. "What was it?" she giggled. "Once we know we’re compatible we can move onto the next step - that’s what we said ....... And I think this step is about as big as it can get ...... for both of us." She became serious then. "Did you mean it ... about having a baby, maybe a little girl?" "Uh huh," he answered sincerely. "Marryin’ you an’ then havin’ kids is more important to me than anythin’ I’ve ever done. She edged across the blanket to move into his arms. "Its the most important thing for me too Sully," she whispered, as he pulled her into his embrace. "Michaela ..... Michaela." Her daydreaming was interrupted by Sully’s urgent whispers. She looked up to discover he was beckoning her to move her horse forward towards his. She did so and as she began to speak he raised his fingers and hushed her. He slid from his horse and moved ever so quietly to help her down from her own. He took her hand, led her quietly though the low brush and then pulled her down to sit beside him. He again placed his fingers over his mouth before pointing through a gap in the bushes to a small clearing by the bank of a small, slow-running stream where a doe and her fawn were grazing. She was momentarily overcome with the beauty and serenity of the scene before her. The fawn was very young, its legs still a little wobbly, and it constantly nudged its mother as if ensuring that she stayed beside him. They watched the deer for a while, remaining as still as possible. Sully turned towards Michaela to gauge her reaction and was moved by the emotion and awe on her face. He put his arms around her and pulled her a little closer into his embrace. After drinking at the stream the doe and her fawn began to move slowly upstream away from Michaela and Sully but they remained seated on the grass watching the animals’ silent retreat. "Michaela, you seem lost in thought," Sully said quietly, after the deer had disappeared into the distance. Michaela became aware of him with a start. "It was beautiful Sully," she said softly. She unconsciously took his hand, grasping his fingers tightly and bringing their hands down to rest against her stomach. "Have you thought lately about us one day having a child Sully?" she asked, turning in his arms to peer at him. "Because I have." "Sure I have, couldn’t help thinkin’ it now we’re married," he said smiling and gently caressing her arms and shoulders. She looked up at him shyly. "I’ve treated many woman patients who conceived just a few weeks, even days, after they were married." She bit her lip but couldn’t help smiling. "Do you think we might’ve already started a baby Sully?" she whispered in a low voice, full of hope. In reply Sully gently laid the palm of his hand over her stomach, kissed her neck and then said a little provocatively, "Well, we’re givin’ it every chance." Michaela blushed and her hold on his hand tightened. Both of them were smiling broadly now. "We don’ know when it’ll happen Michaela but whenever it is I know I’ll be the happiest and proudest husband and father in Colorado Springs," he said. "It might happen real soon or it might take a while ... but in the meantime I’m gonna enjoy every minute with you." Returning to the hotel a little late they hastily changed before dining in the plush hotel dining room. By mutual, but silent consent, they did not linger over their meal, both aware that this was their last night together before tomorrow night’s train journey home to Colorado Springs. Now Sully sat on the decorative rug in the sitting room of their hotel suite, prodding the embers of the fire with an ornate brass poker. The beautifully furnished room was lit only by the firelight and a single lamp near the entrance. He’d removed his shoes, jacket and tie and undone the top few buttons of his shirt while waiting for Michaela, who was changing into her nightgown before joining him. He heard her footfall behind him and turned in time to see her silhouetted against the lamplight emanating from the bedroom. He took a deep breath. With the heat of the fire she had left off her robe, and her exquisite body was clearly defined by the soft, background light through the fine lawn of her nightgown. She moved slowly towards him, the firelight glimmering in her coppery, waist length hair. He immediately reached out to draw her close to sit between his knees, her face to the fire. She leant back into him and grasped his arms and hands as they encircled her. They sat like that, in silence, for a long time. Occasionally he would lift her hand to his lips or gently kiss the nape of her neck while she would move sensuously against him or caress his hands before interlocking her fingers with his. After a while Sully said softly, "What’re ya thinkin’?" She answered dreamily, "Oh, about nothing ..... and everything .... about the changes in my life the last few years .... about the last two weeks and wishing they’d never end ........ but also about missing the kids ...... But mostly about how things have changed." "Whatdya mean," he asked, hoping that she would open up a little more to him. "Well ..... its like ....... its like ......." She was obviously searching for the right words. Then she explained hesitantly, "Its sort of like two painter’s canvasses, side by side, the one on the left representing my life outside medicine, the one on the right my life as a doctor. Can you see that?" She held the palms of her hands upright in front of them to illustrate what she meant. "Uh huh," he replied, wondering what she was getting at. "Well, when I left Boston for Colorado Springs the one on the right was a masterpiece, bright colours, the details a little hazy, but full of hope. The one on the left was blank, just white canvas. I’d left my family behind, I knew no-one, I didn’t really give a thought to me as a person, only me as a doctor." He nodded in understanding and held her a little tighter. Her voice became animated and she unconsciously caressed the backs of his hands as she went on, "But then things began to change. Even when I had no patients the right one was still a masterpiece because I always believed that it was just a matter of time before people accepted me as a doctor - I had to believe that. But then you and the children came into my life and the painting on the left took on some colour and shape, the details were even hazier than in the right one - maybe that was because I had so many doubts and reservations - but there *was* something there, something to build a future on, it certainly wasn’t blank anymore." She paused and took a deep breath. "And now?" he asked in a whisper, hoping that he knew where she was going with this. She turned in his arms to look into his eyes. "And now its the picture on the left which is the masterpiece," she said sincerely. "The picture on the right is still there, the colours have faded only a little and now the details are much clearer. But the painting on the left, with you and the children," she blushed and bit her lip before adding, "and maybe our own baby, is the one I want to concentrate on ....... with you painting it alongside me." She leaned in and softly kissed his smiling mouth. "Do you understand what I mean?" she asked anxiously. "Sure I do," he replied, unable to hide the pride and profound emotion her words had evoked. She lightly kissed him again and then turned once more to sit leaning against his chest. "You know its funny you talkin’ about the way things have changed over the last few years," he said quietly. "Cos I was thinkin’ like that this afternoon too." She turned to look at him in surprise. It was unusual for Sully to think much about the past, or at least to talk about it. Her brow creased and she peered at him quizzically. He stared past her into the now dying fire. So she turned to do the same. "I was thinkin’ how things mighta bin real different .... with us ..... if .... if ..... ." He was having difficulty expressing himself and Michaela was at a loss to help him. "If we hadn’t done certain things, or people around us had acted differently," he finished with a rush. "What do you mean Sully?" she asked quietly, aware from the tone of his voice that something was worrying him. "Well, what if I hadn’t come to Boston when your ma was sick? You might never’ve come back here," he muttered. Michaela suddenly registered deep in her heart that Sully had doubts and fears, just as she did, only he was usually better at covering them up. Trying to reassure him she said, "Sully, I’d have come back. Maybe it would have taken me a little longer than it did after you arrived, but I *would* have come back. My heart was here with you ..... my home was here with you ..." "Funny, I can remember tellin’ the kids when we were in Boston that home is where the heart is, only then I was beginnin’ to wonder whether *your* heart was in Boston." She gently caressed his hand and said, "I think I’ve proved since then where my heart belongs. Just like you once told me - my heart is yours now." Very satisfied with her answer his embrace tightened a little but he continued to stare into the fire. Then he said, almost in a whisper, "But sometimes what happens isn’t within our control, sometimes we have to depend on others, even strangers, an’ that’s real hard." Michaela did not reply, unsure of where this was leading. "Like ..... what if Ethan Cooper hadn’t changed his mind about taking the kids, and they’d all gone off to San Fransisco? ...... Our lives’d be real different now," he said quietly. "You’re right Sully, but I truly believe that God meant us to have Colleen and Brian, they’re His gift to us and nobody can take them away," she said firmly. She felt Sully sigh and then take several deep breaths before he spoke again. "An’ what if Walks On Clouds hadn’t helped you in the dog soldiers’ camp?" he said in a voice so low she could barely hear it. She turned to him in surprise and suddenly knew. "That’s what you were thinking about this afternoon .... in the woods ..... when you looked frightened ...." she said quietly. "Isn’t it?" He nodded and lowered his eyes. She gently cupped his face in her hands and raised his eyes to meet hers. "Sully, you’re the one who’s always told me not to dwell too much on the past, that its better to look forward to the future. Those three days were probably the most frightening of my life but they could have been so much worse. I had *you* looking out for me .... I always knew that you’d come ...... I could *feel* you when you were close. Those three days made me realise that you were the most important thing in my life ........ thinking of you kept me going." She kissed him then, tenderly and insistently, and he responded in kind. There was no need for further words. For the next little while they would *show* each other how they felt, what their love meant. An hour or so later Sully woke to find Michaela sound asleep, cradled in his arms. The fire was almost out and a chill was beginning to pervade the room. She shivered a little and nestled closer to him seeking his warmth. He gently withdrew his arm from underneath her shoulders and rolled away to stand, before lifting her ever so gently in his arms and carrying her to bed. After extinguishing the lamps he slid under the covers beside her to lay spooned into her back. As he wrapped his arms around her once more she grasped his hand, interlocking their fingers and resting them against her stomach. She whispered into the darkness, "I remember, you know." He frowned and asked, "Remember what?" "You holding me like this ..... in the cave ...... when I was so frightened ....... and then after, at the homestead ...... when I needed you ....." For probably the first time in his life Sully blushed. Michaela could feel the warming of his skin. She turned onto her back and, placing her hand on his neck, she tenderly brought his face down towards hers. When their lips were only inches apart she whispered, "Thank-you." and kissed him soundly, ensuring that neither would get a lot of sleep on this last night of their honeymoon. THE END Comments: Pam H |
