Teresa's Secret by Hollyc

Teresa opened the big door of the great room and peered in. Looking relieved to find it empty, she pulled at her bonnet ribbons, freed the hat and clasped it in one hand as she shook out her long hair. Her face was red and moist with the effort of driving the buckboard hard back from the town and she paused to catch her breath. As quietly as she could manage, she crossed the room and headed for the kitchen pump and a drink of water.

As she turned, glass in hand to drink she was startled by Johnny who had crept in stealthily behind her.

"Boo!" he whispered at her playfully in his soft drawl.

Startled more than she ought to be, Teresa jumped, the glass falling, shattering on the stone floor, leaving shiny tracks in the dust of Johnny's boots where the water had splattered.

Automatically they both crouched down; bent-kneed to pick up the shards and banged heads as they did so. Johnny pulled away, looking into her face to see if she were hurt.

"Sorry," his voice was soft, deep, and questioning. "You sure are jumpy, Teresa. Somethin' worryin' ya?"

Teresa stayed in a crouch, gathering glass pieces into the folds of her skirt. Her face reddened, "No," she replied, a little too quickly. "You just surprised me. I didn't hear you."

Johnny added a couple of pieces to her collection, "Looks like all of it."

Teresa noticed that he was still looking into her eyes and she felt uncomfortable. She had not noticed before how much those deep blue eyes could search when they made contact. They seemed to be reading her mind; as if he were making a direct connection from her own hazel eyes to the secret she was trying to hide.

"Ow!"

His cry aroused her to the fact that he had moved his hand down against his heel in order to balance more easily and was now raising it into the space between their chests to examine it. Johnny's cry broke the spell allowing Teresa to shift her gaze to Johnny's hand. He looked at it for a split second of surprise, then quickly drew it to his eyes to examine it.

"Oh you've cut yourself. Here-"

She reached for the hand but Johnny was already unbending to stand above her sucking at the heel of his palm. Droplets of blood stained his lower lip. He mumbled around the obstruction,

"S'allright."

Teresa quickly stood up, grabbed a rag from the shelf and moistened it with water from the pump a When she turned around; she was amused by the mock pitiful look Johnny was giving her.

"Here, let me see it." Taking control, she reached for his wrist and pulled it towards her, and smiling, studied the cut. It was small but deep and was still oozing blood. She pressed the cloth onto it. Johnny winced.

"Sorry."

There was a tender look about her face as she clasped the cloth around his hand. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and sensed that he was unnerved by her closeness. She wondered at his reaction for she had never noticed him react to her with discomfort before. There was a faraway look in his eyes as if he were seeing something else, something not in the room at all. The she saw his unhurt hand raise and drift over the strands of hair that lay on her shoulders. He rubbed the hair between his fingers as if he was seeing it for the first time. Then before she knew it he was staring into her eyes again and the distance between their faces had narrowed. She could feel his breath warm her face.

Teresa broke the spell by whispering his name. Her face was flushed with embarrassment and confusion. She turned away to put the glass with the trash. Johnny remained where he was, frozen; hand still raised a bemused expression on his face.

Teresa dusted off her hands and drew in a deep breath before turning back to face him, her eagerness returning.

"Johnny, can you keep a secret?"

He appeared to recover his senses, and he slouched down in the wooden chair by the kitchen table where he stared at the burn marks that Teresa knew were a faded reminder of an arm wrestling match with Scott.

"What do you mean?"

Johnny had turned from fingering the stains to look at her again. Scott had told her that the reason Drago had wanted to kill his brother was because of an infatuation a 14-year-old girl had for him years ago. Some memory about it was obviously worrying him. Teresa wondered if maybe it would be better if she just sneaked up to her room and ignored the strange feelings that had just passed through her. Who knew how Johnny would react when she told him her secret. Still she was burning with a desire to tell someone, each day she was having more difficulty keeping it to herself. After all what fun was to be had in feeling like this when you couldn't share your excitement with someone else? Then again, was Johnny the right person to tell? She hadn't the courage to tell Murdoch yet, and Scott was too, well far too sensible. Johnny however had that air of mischief about him. She hoped he would approve.

He was still staring at her, waiting for her to continue, possibly noticing her hesitancy,

"Well? What dya want to tell me?"

"Johnny, how did you feel about seeing her again," Teresa indicated the stained table top with a nod of her head. He responded by staring down at his hands which he now clasped one in the other.

"I didn't remember her, not really anyways. I guess I recognised her face some, but I sure didn't know her name. She was just a kid."

"Violet, Scott told me, her name was Violet."

"Violet," Johnny's voice was soft, "I guess I never did know her name."

Teresa yawned over widely.

"I'm going to bed now Johnny. You sure your hand is better?"

Johnny nodded at her, lifting his hand up to show the cut, clean and no longer bleeding, "Sure, it's fine. But, hey, you were about to tell me something-"

Teresa hardly heard his last words as she drifted out of the room towards the stairs, chewing thoughtfully on a strand of hair.