CHAPTER 36

After stealing dozens of surreptitious looks at each other on the trip to Sully's property, they finally rounded the last bend and the homestead came into view. Choosing not to tell him she had seen it once before, Michaela now viewed the house, barn, and surrounding yard, noticing how much work Sully had managed to do on the place since he'd been back.

Sully watched her reactions as she surveyed his home, his awareness of her wealthy background still very much a part of his consciousness. He hoped and prayed that she wouldn't think his place so far 'beneath' her standards that she couldn't see herself living there.

They pulled their horses to a stop at the porch, and Sully immediately dismounted, rounding Michaela's horse and raising both arms to lift her down.

"Well...here it is."

"You built all of this yourself?" she asked softly.

He glanced around with a feeling of satisfaction, as it had taken years of work.

"Yep."

"It's a fine homestead, Sully," she complimented, though thoughts of Abby walking around the yard, hanging clothes on the line, or laughing with Sully in marital bliss tried to crowd in. She determinedly pushed them away.

Taking her hand, he tugged her toward the barn. "C'mon, I'll show ya around."

They inspected the barn, which Sully kept neat and clean, the smell of fresh hay and leather a pleasant tang in the air inside the shadowed interior. They walked around the grounds, Michaela noticing the steep rock hill directly behind the house, and the drop off down to the creek on the far side.

"The land goes past the creek for about forty acres. I been trying to decide whether I wanna put in some crops next year and farm it, or maybe try my hand at bein' a cattle rancher," he murmured with a shrug. "But I'm gonna get me a milk cow...and some chickens...and maybe a hog or two..." he paused, not allowing the rest of his thought for us to live on, to pass his lips. There was time for that, he reminded himself. Don't rush things.

Michaela breathed in the clean, crisp air as she turned to survey the spread. "It's so quiet and peaceful here. So far from the noise and dirt of the town," she added softly, a hint of a frown on her countenance as she thought of the miles between it and her clinic.

He noticed, considering this. "That good...or bad?"

She turned and smiled up at him. "Definitely good. Sometimes the noise of the saloon keeps me awake..." she paused and her eyes widened as she realized what she had just said. "I mean..." she quickly scrambled, blushing and looking away from his amused, dimpled grin. "May I see inside the house?" she asked, flustered, and started back up the hill.

He chuckled softly, immensely pleased that she was evidently imagining at least what it would be like to sleep there. Whoa! He shook his head to stop further thoughts on that subject as he followed her up the hill and to the porch.

They climbed the steps and Sully hurried to open the front door to the cabin, leaning back and allowing her to enter. When she did, her eyes widened at the improvements he had made since she was there last. Everything was clean and in order. The windows sparkled and the wooden floors were free of dust. The kitchen area was tidy, stove shiny, and shelves orderly. She smiled at the homey comfort the place imbued.

He moved to the fireplace and hunkered down, quickly setting logs and kindling in place on top of the previous ashes and striking a match, a warm cozy fire soon filled the confines of the stone hearth.

Turning, he grinned and sauntered close, reaching for the edges of her leather duster to help her out of it and lay it across a kitchen chair.

"It's wonderful Sully. I love your home," she murmured, acutely aware of his close proximity.

Her words electrified him and he turned her to face him.

"Ya do?" he whispered, fully intent on asking her right there if she could see herself living here...with him, as his wife. The words stuck in his throat as he looked in her eyes, the indescribable pull of their magnetism scrambling all coherent thought from his mind.

Michaela's heart immediately began to pound as Sully turned her toward him, gazing so deeply into her eyes. She was certain he was about to propose and her whole body quivered in expectation, her mind readying the word 'yes' before the question was even asked.

His eyes shifted back and forth between both of hers, and helplessly, he leaned down and softly pressed his lips to hers. She was powerless to do anything but respond.

Their kiss slowly warmed, sending a surge of sensual awareness rushing through both their bodies. With a low moan, Sully wrapped one arm around her, the other hand rising to cup the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, his tongue requesting and being granted entry.

As their kiss had the night on the way to Bowie, this one escalated quickly. Michaela's hands found their way into Sully's hair as she surrendered to his sensuous onslaught, actively kissing him back with fiery passion. Their quickening breaths mingled as they explored each other's mouths, starving for fulfillment.

Suddenly Sully broke off, his body reacting fiercely to her nearness. He crushed her to his chest, burying his face in the soft hollow of her neck as he fought for control over his raging hormones.

His thick stubble scratched the delicate skin above the collar of her blouse and he heard her soft intake of breath in reaction. Quickly he pulled back and met her eyes.

"What?" he whispered in concern.

She blushed, one hand rising to touch the affected area. He quickly realized the problem and chuckled, raising one hand to rub over the prickly crop of whiskers on his cheeks and chin. In truth, he was a little glad of the interruption, as it was helping him tamp down his body's roaring needs.

"Guess I need ta take care 'a that, huh?" he teased, his eyes twinkling. "Might as well clean up while I'm at it," he added with a grin.

Michaela's eyes widened at his meaning. "Oh, well...I'll just wait outside..."

He shook his head quickly. "No need. Got this curtain here," he indicated the white cloth hanging on a rod between the main room and the side alcove.

"Make yourself at home, I won't be long," he encouraged, already sliding the curtain in place and setting about finding fresh clothing. She soon heard the splash of water into a bowl as he readied a quick wash.

Michaela turned her attention to wandering the room, determinedly steering her thoughts away from a near naked Sully just on the other side of the curtain. She had seen his body while she tended to him during his fever and now the memories rose to tempt her imagination.

Michaela Ann! Behave yourself! She mentally chided, clearing her throat and reaching up to touch a small carving of a wolf on the mantel. It brought a memory to the surface.

"Sully? Where is your wolf?" she called to him.

He paused in the process of shedding his clothing and grinned at her question, shrugging thoughtfully.

"Don't know, but he'll be back. I told him to stay here when I went to the party. He kinda comes and goes as he pleases..." he added, thinking he and the wolf had quite a few things in common. He reached for a bar of soap and a rag, and began to quickly wash the effects of a fierce fight in the dirt and a long night's ride off his tired body.

Michaela nodded and continued her tour of the room, lightly running her hand over the back of the rocking chair, then over the desk against the far wall. She wandered into another small alcove, before turning and perusing the bed. Her cheeks went pink a little as she pictured Sully asleep under the covers that were spread neatly, though not perfectly, over the mattress...imagining herself curled in his arms...perhaps her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder...

Giving her head a quick shake to dislodge that thought from her mind, she glanced around, her eyes half closed and using her lashes as a filter as she imagined what she would do to change the room. What figurines she would place on the mantel, pillows on the rocking chair, curtains at the windows, beautiful dishes on the table, and a lovely spread on the bed. She cast her eyes around, looking for where she might keep her clothing and belongings, and spotted the chest at the end of the bed, wondering what it contained.

She could hear water splashing and Sully moving around beyond the curtain, and striving for something to say, her words caught in her throat when she saw him step to the edge of the curtained area and begin lathering his face for a shave as he leaned over before a mirror. All she could see was his bare, tanned upper torso, the muscles in his arms flexing as he skillfully maneuvered the straight razor over his cheeks and chin, then down to his neck. She felt like a voyeur as she watched, fascinated by his every move, knowing she should avert her gaze, but unable to make her body obey.

Finally, she forced herself to turn just as he angled his arms to begin working on his neck.

"Ow," he muttered softly and she quickly turned back.

"Are you alright?"

He winced as he ran his fingertips over the area, relieved to not see any blood. "Yeah, I just forgot ta be careful around my scar," he called in answer.

Her eyes widened as she remembered the terrible night she thought he would bleed to death before she could stitch the wound on his neck closed.

She moved closer. "Does it bother you? Perhaps I should take a look..."

"Nah, only bothers me if I scrape a razor over it too hard," he mumbled as he carefully finished his ministrations. Then he picked up a comb and began to vigorously run it through his long locks before he disappeared beyond the curtain again. In a few moments, he pushed the material aside as he was in the act of tucking a blue striped shirt into the waistband of a pair of buckskin pants. He approached her as she stood next to the hearth, warming herself.

"Whew, now I feel human again," he joked as he came to stand near, running his hands back through his hair and then over his freshly shaved face.

She looked him over, swallowing dryly at the handsome specimen he made with his hair combed and framing his face in soft waves, the buckskin pants hugging his hips and the blue shirt accentuating his eyes. She noticed he was even wearing moccasins and she smiled, realizing just how much his new friends had influenced his way of life.

He noticed the smile. "What?" he murmured as he stepped closer.

She shook her head softly, and then reached out to touch the slightly jagged scar that ran parallel to his jaw on the left side of his neck. The doctor in her immediately switched into examining mode, her fingers gently pressing the evidence of his injury as she stepped closer.

"Is the area around it numb, or painful at all?" she asked, glancing up into his eyes that were once again twinkling as he enjoyed her attentions.

He smiled and reached up to take her hand in his, moving his head to graze her palm with his lips. "Nope. It's fine. You did a good job stitchin' me up. I was just hurryin' is all," he admitted softly.

She smiled in relief and raised her other hand to gently caress his now smooth face, her eyes locked with his, as his expression grew intense with desire. Raising his hands to gently cup her face, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers again, in his mind taking up where they had left off earlier.

Soon they were kissing passionately again, and the headiness of it quickly overcame Michaela's senses. His warmth and now clean masculine scent wreaked havoc with her sense of propriety, her hands rising of their own accord to slide into the soft waves of his hair. All she could think about was the marvelous feeling of his mouth interacting with hers...his tongue caressing hers was absolutely intoxicating...

But then, he allowed one hand to begin wandering down her neck to her collarbone and daringly further. As his fingers closed gently over one of her breasts, he felt her shiver.

Quivering with both desire and shock, as no man had ever touched her so intimately, Michaela immediately regained her sense of decency, ruefully acknowledging to herself why young women were admonished to never be alone with a man to whom they were fiercely attracted – the temptations were quite difficult to resist. She broke their kiss and pushed away, stepping back a bit.

"Hey...what's wrong?" he asked softly, for a moment at a loss regarding her about-face.

"Nothing," she answered quickly. "But...this doesn't come now."

He grinned mischievously and reached for her, drawing her up flush with his body, allowing her to feel the evidence of his desire as he tried to kiss her lips again. "It comes with courtin'," he murmured sensually, leaning in to continue their kiss. She let his lips touch hers, but then turned her head, drawing in a deep breath as she fought against the desire coursing through her body.

"But...um...we should be getting back now," she argued, blushing and reaching around to pry his hands away.

A trifle hurt, a tiny pout formed on his lips as he stared at her, his ardor still surging. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing...but someone might wonder where we are," she blurted, scrambling for an excuse that didn't make her sound like a schoolgirl. They both knew she had informed Charlotte where they would be.

As Sully saw the uncertainty and maybe even a little fear in her eyes, suddenly it dawned on him that she was uncomfortable with this new level of intimacy. He could have smacked himself in the head, having forgotten that this woman he loved, though responsive and passionate, was still sexually innocent. I need ta take it slow, easy...one step at a time...

Forcing himself to smile, he released her and stepped back. "You're right. Your sister's prob'ly wakin' up from her rest about now."

"Yes...Marjorie," she mumbled, totally not looking forward to their next encounter. And she did hope Marjorie was able to take a rest, perhaps it would improve her disposition.

Crossing her arms over her chest in reaction to his sudden absence, she watched, wondering what he was thinking as he leaned down, banked the fire, and then reached to help her into her duster. He then reached for a buckskin jacket on a hook next to the door and slipped into it.

With a gentle smile of reassurance, he held out one hand to her as he murmured, "You ready?"

She nodded with a mixture of regret and relief and took his hand, falling into step at his side. Their fingers entwined, they paused as he firmly shut the door, then descended the porch steps and sauntered to the horses for a slow and leisurely ride back to town.