Chapter 1
Lieutenant Byron Sully looked around him at the luxurious ballroom and decided, once more, that he definitely was not in the right place. Unfortunately, he could not change anything to this fact, for President Grant himself had invited him, so there was no way he could have declined. Never in his entire life had he been interested in events such as these, he grew up in very modest circumstances, preferring the solitude of the woods or the companionship of the soldiers of his regiment to any gathering of high ranking people dressed up in posh, expensive suits and uniforms in an environment lacking any form of appeal to him. He stood as far away as possible from curious eyes, having found a dark corner in the ballroom, as usual unaware of the admiring glances that many of the ladies present at this event were throwing at him. At an age of almost thirty-five, he was in his prime. His physique was downright stunning, under his uniform one suspected hard muscles yet smooth skin. He was used to wander around bare-chested in the wilderness, so he had a bronzed skin. Women did not fail to find him highly attractive, but he never seemed to notice. But then suddenly he saw her. His breath got stuck in his throat. "Michaela..." he murmured her name, not believing his eyes to see her there, even though it was only a whisper on his lips as he took in the sight of the woman he had fallen in love with as a young man, shortly after the tragic death of his beloved wife Abigail and their baby Hannah. How long was it that he had not seen her? Must have been many years, he mused. Her auburn hair was piled high on top of her head, leaving her neck and shoulders bare. Her dark-red dress fitted her perfectly, making his body react with the memories of the short, but very intense love affair they had had so long ago. As if drawn towards him by an invisible force, she turned and instantly saw him. Her lips parted in surprise, she smiled and walked to where he stood.

"Sully." "Michaela." He lifted her hand to his lips, noticing her blush when his lips touched her hand.
"I heard you were here in the White House." Her soft voice had not changed from how he remembered it, her stunning beauty struck him now as it had when they were so much younger.
"Have you been long here in Washington?" he asked her, not wanting to let her know that he had, in these years, been fully aware of her whereabouts.
"I came here a few weeks after the beginning of the war... So," she continued, "you're a lieutenant now..." "Yeah, I kind of got that title without thinking I really deserve it."
She eyed him with amusement. "I can hardly believe that, you have always been one who puts everyone before yourself. That's why you fully deserve the ranking of lieutenant." He smiled, she was as kind and gentle as always, she had not changed.
"Did you ever get married?" "No." "Why not?" "I guess I never met the right man... except you and you know how we ended our relationship." She bent over to him and whispered in his ear, "You do know I have a very responsible job here with the Government, don't you?" "Yes, I know, you're quite high in the rankings too," he returned, speaking softly to avoid being overheard.

All those years ago, he had known that she had an enormous talent for rational and logical reasoning, reading between the lines and judging certain situations and persons not by their appearance only, but observing the underlying motivations as well.
He locked eyes with hers, those mismatched, two-toned eyes, one hazel, one olive. The fact that she had what was known as heterochromia, had always fascinated him. He thought back to their love affair. It had been of a breathtaking intensity, but unfortunately life had decided differently and their paths had separated. The coincidence of meeting again here in this ballroom, was extraordinary. He knew they were being watched, so he did not want to show too overtly that they knew each other. Her function with the Government and his station in the Army could create a problem.
"Do you think we met here by coincidence?" he couldn't help but ask, curious to know what she thought of it. "Why, do you think the Spirits had something to do with it?" The allusion to his close connection to the Cheyenne Indians was not lost on him and he chuckled. "I would like to think they had a hand in this," he countered, "do you know that you're even more beautiful now than you were years ago?" Michaela again blushed. "Well, you haven't changed a lot either, always ready to shower me with compliments..."