CHAPTER 3

As he settled into the rear-facing seat opposite her, she looked over at him in shock and disbelief. He removed his belt with his knife and tomahawk and placed them on the floorboard at his feet, all while trying to gauge her reaction to his unexpected arrival.

"Sully? What are you doing here?" She choked out the question, as she was at a complete loss to understand his sudden appearance.

"I'm goin' to New York. What does it look like I'm doin'?" He grinned as he enjoyed her apparent discomfiture.

"But why?"

"Well, Mr. Watkins sent me an invitation to the art gallery and the party afterwards, an' I just decided I wanted to go. Somethin' wrong with me goin'?"

"No! I mean no, there's no problem." She was still pleasantly disconcerted at his arrival but secretly pleased to have him accompanying her on the long journey. "I must admit I am quite surprised you would even want to attend such an event, but I welcome your company and conversation as we travel."

"So you don't mind if I ride along with ya?"

She looked across the cramped interior of the coach and smiled. "No, Sully, I don't mind in the least." Just as she answered, the driver suddenly hit a pothole in the dusty roadway, and she was inelegantly thrown across the seat and landed in his lap. "You okay?" He gathered her in his arms and steadied her before returning her to the seat opposite his. Her hat, with its multicolored-silk bow, had come undone from her hair and now lay on the gritty floor. He retrieved the dusty hat and placed it on the seat next to her medical bag. As the coach continued to vigorously bounce along, he moved from his seat and sat next to her. He placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her petite frame against his larger one so as to prevent any further accidents. Before long, the rhythmic rocking of the carriage lulled her to sleep, and her head unknowingly nestled under his bearded chin. He tightened his hand around her shoulder, placed his other hand over her small fingers as they lay clasped in her lap, and silently kissed the top of her head. He could smell the soft scent of honeysuckle as he nestled his lips against her coppery mane of hair.

The stagecoach rolled on, and the intertwined pair was oblivious of the scenery as they napped in each other's arms, whispered softly, or simply cast self-conscious glances at each other. They continued to sit side by side for the entire five-day journey to St. Louis that included the stop in Denver.

Upon arriving at the St. Louis train station, Sully escorted Dr. Mike from the stagecoach station to the train platform and helped her board for the final stage of their journey. Numerous passengers noted the charming and beautiful young woman who was accompanied by a rugged mountain man. What she didn't see were the glaring looks he gave any man who dared to look at her with more than a passing glance.

After boarding the train to New York, they settled into an open-section sleeping compartment and ate their meals in the dining car. When both became weary from their journey, their bench seats were converted into sleeping berths, and a curtain was drawn between the two sections. Michaela realized her mother would be horrified at her lack of decorum if she were ever to know of her daughter's sleeping arrangements. This behavior would be considered scandalous and could have been grounds for her mother's disowning her. However, for some reason she was reluctant to probe too deeply, it just seemed too comfortable, too desirable to let their time together be interrupted by society's rigid directives.

As the white curtain softly fluttered from the soft breeze of the partially open compartment window, Sully lay on his narrow cot and watched her shadow as she brushed her long hair and prepared for bed.

"Dr. Mike?" he called softly to the graceful shadow that was tormenting his thoughts and keeping him from a restful night's sleep.

"Yes, Sully? Do you need something?"

Oh, how he realized he could not honestly answer that question, as his response would be enough to frighten the genteel woman he was coming to care for deeply. If only he could tell her how he dreamed about pushing the curtain aside, reaching for her willing frame, and drawing her down onto the narrow mattress underneath his aching body. How he wanted nothing more than to kiss her sweet lips, explore her delicious mouth with his tongue, and trail wet kisses down her neck before pushing aside her nightgown to suckle on her rigid nipples. As he lay on the mattress, his mind carried him even further into his sensual daydream as his body longed for release. To have her touch him and run her delicate hands across his shoulders and lower back as he caressed her shapely body…to feel his knee part her thighs as he settled himself between them. All as she mewled sounds of pleasure…

"Sully? Is something wrong? Are you ill? You're groaning like you're in pain!" She cautiously pushed the curtain aside and stared at him with concern.

He quickly rolled onto his stomach and raised his head from the pillow before muttering that he was fine and for her to get some rest.

"All right. But you called my name and acted as if you had a question. Are you sure?" to which he snapped, "Dr. Mike! Just go to sleep. Okay?"

She quickly closed the curtain and snuffed out the brass oil lamp mounted to the wall above her berth. He could hear the rustling of the bedclothes as she settled down for the night.

Her last word before succumbing to sleep was a softly whispered, "Goodnight," to which she got no response.

Sully lay quietly on his side of the curtain, his piercing blue eyes staring at the upholstered ceiling, until the light of dawn at last crept through the shades of the sleeping car…