CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

"Yeah...that's how I feel, too," Sully responded, giving her a relieved grin. "That's not all...this Michaela Quinn was from Boston, too."

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him, a thought occurring to her as a chill ran up her spine. She looked away for a moment to gather her thoughts and remember family history, and then turned her eyes back to him. "How much of the journal have you read?" she asked quietly.

"Quite a bit, why?"

"Do you know anything about her family?" she asked, holding her breath in anticipation of his answer.

Sully thought for a moment. "Well...I think she was the youngest of five daughters...her mother's name was Elizabeth...her father's name was Josef and he was a doctor, too..." he stopped as he noticed her face beginning to pale. "Michaela?" he murmured, beginning to be a bit worried regarding her thoughts.

"Sully..." she whispered, blinking slowly. "She was MY ancestor, too."

They stared into each other's eyes, barely blinking as each took in this latest piece to the mind-blowing puzzle. He shut his eyes for a second and shook his head, glancing back at her, "You sure?"

She nodded, eyes still large and locked with his. "W...how?" he began.

She moistened her lips and took a breath, "MY great, great, great grandfather's name was Theodore Quinn," she began. "He was a concert pianist and had lost his only son in the Civil War, later losing his wife. After many years, he remarried a much younger woman and they had two children, a son and daughter. Theodore Quinn had one brother...a doctor...by the name of Josef. My own father was named after him. He had a wife, Elizabeth, and five daughters...the youngest named...Michaela. She's my namesake," she finished in a whisper, her eyes by then filled with tears, as were his.

"It's like...it's like history's repeating itself," he said in quiet awe, unable to break eye contact with her as chill bumps broke out on both their bodies. She slowly nodded.

He reached for her hand and brought it to his chest, pressing it to his heart. "From what I've read in this journal, Michaela...our ancestors shared a love that surpassed and survived every hardship and misfortune thrown at them; almost a fairytale love. Like Romeo and Juliet, without the tragedy. It's as if..." he hesitated, almost afraid she would think he was crazy, but she finished his thought. "As if God planned for us to meet and recreated their love...in us," she whispered.

Overcome with the scope of it all, he reached out and drew her to him, folding her in his arms, the journal between them. She shut her eyes and luxuriated in the warmth of his arms and chest as a tear spilled over and trickled down her cheek. The words that Sully had said earlier came back and she shuddered to realize that she had almost decided against coming to Colorado Springs. She couldn't even imagine her life now without Sully's love.

He tipped his head back and shut his eyes, silently thanking God for allowing him to be a part of such a blessing and for letting him find the journal so that he would be aware of just how much of a created miracle they were living. He thanked God also that Michaela had responded to the tug and had answered the town's advertisement. He couldn't even imagine his life now without her love.

Finally, he pulled back and took the journal from her, maneuvering to rest his back against the headboard. "Come here...get comfortable," he coaxed softly. "I wanna read you some of it." She scooted over and settled herself next to him, leaning against his side and resting a hand on his thigh as he opened the journal and put his arm around her, drawing her close. He began to read the first page out loud.

August 4, 1867

I arrived in Colorado Springs four days ago, to the chagrin of most of the townspeople. They were expecting Michael A. Quinn. It seems that the prejudice against women doctors is much the same here as it was in Boston. I have made one friend, however - a very nice woman named Charlotte who runs the boarding house. She is a widow with three children and she has been a great help to me thus far. I have also made the acquaintance of someone else. His name is Sully. I do not know his first name yet. He seems to be a man of very few words. Some call him a "Mountain Man," very mysterious...and very handsome...and he has the most incredible blue eyes I have ever seen. The first time I saw him, Charlotte had taken me to the mercantile to post an advertisement for a place to live. As Mr. Bray, the owner, was arguing with her about there being no room on the bulletin board, Mr. Sully walked in with his pet wolf and an Indian chief. Mr. Bray angrily told them to leave and pointed at a wooden sign on the board that read "No dogs or Indians." Everyone froze. Before I thought about it, I spoke up and said to Mr. Bray that one sign on the board had outlived its time, and I reached up and took it down. A soldier was in the store also and quickly came over to me, yanking the sign from my hands and putting it back up. Before I could even blink, Mr. Sully had drawn and thrown a tomahawk all the way across the room and split the sign right through the center – mere inches from me. Startled, I screamed. After a few tense moments with the wolf snarling and baring its teeth, the soldier, who had immediately drawn his gun, backed down and Sully strode over, pulling his tomahawk from the board and I placed my advertisement on the nail. He turned then and our eyes met and I literally froze. I wish I could put into words what I felt...it was as if something happened between us...something was exchanged between his eyes and mine, as we stood there rooted in place. Then the spell was broken by Charlotte dragging me awayand I couldn't help but feel a loss.

Well...here I am now, sitting in bed in Sully's homestead. Immediately taking my advertisement down, he had followed us to the livery and offered to rent me his homestead – for $1 a month. It seems when his wife and baby died in childbirth he just abandoned it. Left everything in place as it had been – dishes, clothing, bedding, furniture...baby things...their wedding picture. I don't really know what to make of him. But I hope to find out more soon.

Sully stopped there and looked into Michaela's eyes, which were wide with wonder. "That's amazing...it's so similar to how WE met," she whispered as he nodded, gently squeezing her side in agreement. "I know. When our eyes first met...it was as if our souls instantly recognized they had found their other half." She nodded in wondering agreement, thinking that was a perfect description.

For the next several hours, the couple sat snuggled together, immersed in the lives and adventures of their ancestors, told in beautiful detail in the old journal. They read of Michaela's struggles to be accepted by the townspeople as their doctor, her hardships trying to learn how to live as a frontier woman on her own, her loneliness and fear of rejection that she shared with no one but her trusted journal, and maybe a little with Charlotte. (Michaela was shocked again to find out Charlotte's last name was Cooper. Another uncanny coincidence!) They were amazed at her strength of character as she described coming head to head with people in the town concerning their prejudice and narrow-minded attitudes. They laughed together as they read of her spunk when she went to Jake Slicker (another Jake Slicker!), the town barber and pseudo physician, on the pretext of a toothache and bravely suffered through his 'yanking a perfectly good tooth out of her head'.

They also read of each encounter she had with the enigmatic Mr. Sully. She told of often observing him crouching by the graves of his deceased wife and baby, still obviously grieving their passing. She found out that he had been married to Mr. Bray's daughter – and was named Abigail - another uncanny coincidence that caused chill bumps to rise – but that Mr. Bray absolutely hated Sully and blamed him for his daughter's death. They read of Michaela's frustration and sadness at the death of Mr. Bray's wife...for lack of a simple medicine. They chuckled together as they read of her encounter with the saloon owner over one of his "women," whom she was treating for venereal disease, when she had boldly told him, "I'm not a lady, I'm a doctor." That encounter had ended with Sully coming to her rescue and getting into a brawl with several men, using his tomahawk and his fists to get her out of the establishment unharmed. She told of the mysterious tingling she felt each time their hands touched, such as in the street after the rescue incident. It seemed that time and time again, Sully was there when she needed him...almost as if they shared some kind of emotional or spiritual connection.

Around lunchtime they took a break from reading and Sully ordered a chicken and pineapple pizza. Before it arrived, Michaela went to check her messages and make sure the clinic was secure. While she was gone, Sully set up a folding table in his bedroom with cokes and paper plates and by the time Michaela got back, the pizza had arrived. Sully paid the man and they both climbed the stairs again to enjoy their meal.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed a few minutes later, before taking a bite of her pizza, Michaela said with a twinkle, "I can't believe we're eating up here when there is a perfectly good table downstairs."

"Yeah, but up here we can enjoy the fireplace. I got interrupted last week while I was doin' the annual chimney cleaning and only got this one finished, so I don't wanna light a fire in the living room one yet." Sully returned before taking a large bite of pizza.

Michaela nodded, taking another bite and glancing around his bedroom. "Have you done anything to this room in your restorations?"

Sully looked around and nodded as he took another bite of the delicious pizza. "Mmm hmm, I took off the drywall and years of wallpaper to get it back to these natural walls. Also, someone had painted the fireplace stones! That took weeks to get it back to original, but I'm pleased with the results."

"Oh my, yes," she complimented; gazing at the fireplace and the wonderfully warm fire Sully had kindled while she had been gone. "It's so cozy in here now...I hadn't realized I was cold..." she stopped there and blushed a little, thinking she hadn't been cold because Sully's body heat had kept her warm. His eyes twinkled as he effectively read her mind and he gave her a sexy wink.

When they were finished eating, they cleaned their hands and resettled themselves at the headboard to continue their fascinating journey back to the 1860's. Sully laid a small container of extra pineapple that he had ordered with the pizza, onto his nightstand and took out a few, offering one to Michaela as she relaxed against him. Her eyes twinkling, she took the treat into her mouth and kissed his fingers. He placed a piece in his mouth and they shared a sweet, sticky, wonderful kiss, giggling like teenagers.

Skipping past some mundane entries in the journal, they came upon a detailed account of an "adventure in the woods" between the future couple. Intrigued, Michaela read the account out loud.

April 11, 1868

I haven't written for a few days because something quite extraordinary happened which has, I believe, resulted in a change in my relationship with Sully. Several days ago, I began to realize that quite a few people were getting ill with the same symptoms, similar to mercury poisoning. After some investigation, we discovered the source of the problem – mercury from a mining operation polluting Willow Creek. I confronted Mr. Harding, the owner of the Harding Mine and tried to reason with him, but he categorically refused to take responsibility. Further, he as much as threatened to shoot anyone coming near to investigate. I was soangry, and I determined to secure a sample of the water near the mine. I asked Sully if he would guide me there and he refused, claiming I would slow him down. That he would go himself and get the sample. I was sure a court would claim he was biased and throw it out. Only after I made him realize I would make the trip alone did he relent.

As I was buying supplies for the trip, Olive said a curious thing to me that really made me wonder. She said she thought Sully was afraid to be alone with me so far from town. Well, at first, he was despicable. He spoke sarcastically to me, complaining about my "fancy" soap and being unnecessarily rude, although I had the feeling he was stealing looks at me during the night – I even caught him at it once or twice. But on the second day, things began to change. The horses spooked and ran off, leaving us to continue on foot. As we were climbing, carrying our belongings, I clumsily fell down a steep incline and broke my right wrist. Sully's attitude instantly changed. He became protective, attentive, and even sweet to me. Later, some of Harding's men saw us crossing the wide stream and threw a stick of dynamite in the water! It exploded right in front of Sully, rendering him momentarily unconscious. I managed to pull him to shore and we escaped.

A little later as we dried our clothing, I asked him to help me fasten the buttons on my shirt. Oh my! His hands so close to my chest...and the looks that he gave me as he buttoned my shirt...sent shivers of nerves throughout my body. The intense expression in his eyes was quite smoldering! Scandalous thoughts raced through my mind...of what it might be like for him to kiss me. At one point, I almost thought he might! But, he didn't. That night, a downpour threatened to drown us. Sully hastily built us a lean-to and after some encouragement from me regarding his stubbornness, he climbed in and lay with me under his poncho, spooned intimately to my back. It was very hard to sleep; so conscious was I of his nearness, his warmth... his warm breath on the back of my hair. Sometime during the night I woke up and my head was lying on his arm, his other arm securely around me with his hand on my belly. I didn't want to move. It was like heaven and I wished the night would go on forever. I've never felt anything like this...these feelings he evokes within me every time he is near or even just looks at me. I've been trying to ignore them, but...after this, I don't think things will ever be the same between us again...at least, I hope not.

Michaela stopped reading and glanced at Sully, reading in his eyes her own thoughts. "They had an adventure alone in the woods...in the rain...and it changed their relationship..." she whispered, her eyes searching his. "Oh Sully...the more I read, the more...almost frightened I become...our relationship is so similar...will it run the same course as theirs?"

He knew what she meant, having already told her a little about Sully being in hiding for six months after they were married and other tragedies they suffered such as Michaela's miscarriage. "No! Don't think like that. We won't let nothin' like that happen," he quickly assured her.

"Sully," she whispered as tears burned in her eyes. "I don't think I could handle it if anything like that happened to us…hold me." He took the journal from her hands and put it aside, taking her in his arms for a warm hug, rocking her gently.

"Ssshhh, mé'oo'o, it's alright. Hey, don't be frightened," he murmured, gently caressing her cheek. "Look at it this way...we can learn things to avoid by reading the journal...they didn't have that luxury," he reminded her softly.

Nodding against his neck, she pulled back a little to look into his eyes with a small smile. "I know… you're right. It just worries me, I don't want anything to come between us..." She paused taking a deep steadying breath as everything they had just read, their surroundings and position in each other's arms on the bed now beginning to stir the passion that always lay just below the surface. When her eyes locked with his once more, he knew exactly what she was feeling and leaned in for a reassuring kiss as her eyes softly closed.

"Né-méhotatséme, my sweet Michaela...so much," he whispered before taking her lips with his. Familiar tingles flooded her body as his lips caressed and tasted hers. A sigh escaped her as she opened to him in sweet surrender, allowing him full access to her mouth. Feeding from the sweetness of her lips, his tongue searched and probed, engulfing her mouth in a sweet invasion as the kiss went on and on. The softness of her hair and the sweet scent of her body intoxicated him to the point that coherent thought was becoming impossible.

As his lips worked their magic, her body began to relax and melt as his hand gently caressed her face and neck, and then slowly moved lower to gently squeeze and caress her breast, her waist, and her hip. She ran her hands hungrily over his chest and side as she spontaneously curled into his embrace, drawing her knee up over his hip in passionate abandon as he massaged her thigh and calf, the warmth from the fire no match for the blazing inferno erupting within them.

Breaking off and moving his lips to her cheek, he panted breathlessly, "Oh Michaela...I...I want ya so bad...but I don't...I wanna wait till our wedding. But God... you're so beautiful! I can't get enough of you!"

"Oh Sully," she whispered, her hands in his hair as she guided his mouth back to hers. Scooping her into his arms, he slid them both lower on the bed, her body now lying flat on the soft mattress. She gasped when she felt his body cover hers, desire igniting a pulsing sensation within her passion-moistened depths. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her...but like him she wanted to wait until their wedding.

He was devouring her mouth with his, his hands wildly caressing her hair and face as she kissed him back with just as much fervor. Her response driving him on, she felt him move his leg, his knee burrowing between hers as he continued to kiss her and she wouldn't deny him anymore. Parting her legs, she felt him settle his body intimately into hers, instantly feeling the throbbing hardness of his arousal pressing against her warm damp entrance through their clothing, his chest pressing her breasts until he could feel their firm roundness.

He broke off the kiss again, gasping with passion as his lips grazed her cheek, suckling her neck and the sensitive spot below her ear. Groaning, he begged, "Stop me, Michaela...I can't...I can't stop myself this time." He reclaimed her lips as his hand moved to cup and massage her breast through her bra, moaning when he felt her arch herself against him, his hardened manhood supersensitive.

She didn't want him to stop...her body was screaming for release. The sexual tension between them had been building over the months and was now at a fever pitch. God how she wanted him! She had ever wanted anything more in her life. The idea Rebecca had suggested about a way they could relieve some of the tension resurfaced at that moment and took on a life of its own.

Of their own accord, her hands moved to clutch his backside as she pulled him in tighter, closer than they had ever been. Gasping in reaction, his body began to move of its own volition, rhythmically forward and back, effectively stroking them both and bringing each such pleasure, it was almost as if he were inside her. He could feel his body racing toward the pinnacle of ultimate reward. His mouth ravaged hers as he plunged his tongue inside, mimicking the movements he was doing elsewhere.

She clutched him tightly, reveling in the feel of his powerful muscles clenching under her hands while her tongue dueled with his as the erotic tingling escalated where she most ached for fulfillment. Moaning into his mouth, she arched to meet each of his thrusts, needing, longing, grasping, striving, building to her own release as he did the same. Coherent thought had ceased for each of them, replaced by mindless passion. With one hand under her neck and one under her waist and hips, his movements escalated until, groaning fiercely, he wrenched his mouth from hers and tipped his head back yelling, "Oh my God Chaela!" as he soared over the edge, taking her with him as she cried out with unabashed abandon. "Sully! Oh...Oh...Oh... Yes! YES!" she screamed over and over as her body succumbed to wave after wave of orgasm. His answering roar of satisfaction echoed off the bedroom walls as he rode his own pulsating waves of pleasure.

Finally, totally spent, he collapsed on top of her, both of them breathless and quivering with spasms of aftershock. Weakly he moved his arms under him to take his weight off her as he whispered, "I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too," she whispered back breathlessly, her arms circling his back of their own accord, her knees rising to grip his sides as they remained intimately pressed together.

After a few minutes, she slowly lowered her legs and he rolled slightly to the side, bringing her with him and settling her face in the crook his neck, their breathing starting to return to normal. He cherishingly smoothed a strand of her hair back and caressed her face tenderly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then softly chuckled.

"What's funny?" She whispered. Softly stroking his chest, she leaned her head back to gaze into his eyes with a sated smile, placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I was just thinking, mé'oo'o...if it's THIS good fully clothed...what's our wedding night gonna be like?"