Dr. Michaela Quinn is a distraction. She's infuriating. A force of nature. She's a fire that burns fast, taking in everything in her wake. Head-strong. And Sully's never met any woman with half so many opinions and ideas. It's not that he minds opinions. More that she's never quiet about hers. Worse when she's right, flaring with indignation. Worst of all when she's wrong, a backdraft of outrage.
She turns up everywhere, at least everywhere in town. He's never been more grateful for the wilderness because it's the only place he can go and feel like he knows his own thoughts. The town has always been so different from the Cheyenne camp—two extremes he travels between. But she's making the lines smudge, determined to be anywhere and everywhere at once.
Dr. Mike is the most improperly improper lady that walks the earth. She's Boston, ridiculous layers of petticoats and dresses, science and logic. And she moved across the country unaccompanied, braving a wild man's frontier. She learned to ride long before he ever did. She's a single mother. Sully can't drag himself away, and it was all he could do at the mining operation not to look as she pulled on her things. She has the whitest skin he's seen. And the smallest hands on a woman. He's had to stop himself many times from taking either of those thoughts too far.
She smells good, too. Those weeks he spent in her bed were sheer torture—not only days and nights wondering if his legs would ever work again, but the smell of her all around him. Something more than soap and warm Colorado sunshine. They've huddled for warmth under the lean-to all night, and done dozens of thing that would scandalize polite Boston society.
Her hair still fascinates him. It's so long and such a rich color. It's as unpredictable as herself—and often a clue to how exhausting her day has been. Sully knows which locks framing her face will come loose from her braid first. Which ones will stay until she lets the whole thing down. He's wondered how long it would take to brush all the tangles from it. And he remembers exactly how soft it feels under his rough fingers.
His favorite, though, is her crooked smile. Warm and radiant toward the children, especially Brian. He can understand that, the boy has a gift and it's impossible not to love him. But her smile… Sully happiest moments these days are when she turns it on him. Those secret grins when they share a private thought, the one look and smile saying more than a conversation ever could. He's never known friendship with a woman, not like this. And her heart in her mismatched eyes that turns his way more than ever these days.
He wonders if she knows what she's saying.
Or when he might be ready to say it freely back to her.