Chapter 16
"Pittsburg!" The train conductor bellowed down the corridor, jerking Michaela from her doze. She quickly looked down in her lap, where Sully had unceremoniously passed out. His head was heavy on her legs, and she cursed herself for falling asleep.
"Sully!" She shook him fiercely. "Sully, wake up!"
She leaned over him, slapping his face urgently. Abruptly, Sully sat up, hitting Michaela's forehead in his haste.
"Twain weck," jibbed Abagail from across the car, who seemed to be wide awake and completely amused by the situation.
Michaela and Sully held their heads and glared at the snickering imp.
"Don't joke like that, Abby," Sully admonished.
Abagail's eyes widened as Sully scolded her for the first time. She looked to Michaela, but Michaela didn't overrule him. When she didn't get her way, Abagail's eyes brimmed and welled over with tears. "I sorry," she mumbled, before getting up and running out of the cabin.
"Oh no," Michaela groaned as Abagail slammed the door behind her, waking Robert E from his slumber. Sully immediately jumped up to chase after her, but Michaela stopped him. "Your head, Sully. You shouldn't be running. Not yet. Let me go."
"I'll go with ya," Robert E jumped up. "She can't have gone far. Short legs and all."
"Alright, alright. I'll wait here. See if she comes back." Michaela and Robert E ran out of the cabin, Michaela racing to the back of the train and Robert E to the front of the train. Sully groaned and began pacing the length of the cabin, waiting.
David avoided eye contact with the Union soldiers as they passed him on the planks in the train station. He still felt like his uniform was on his body, as if it was permanently stained on him, and if he glanced at them in a certain way, they would know what he had done.
He quickly jumped on his connecting train to Boston, steering clear of two lieutenants coming his way.
He walked towards the front of the train, but the cabins were full, mostly with soldiers, which only made him move faster. Finally, an empty cabin appeared, and he slipped inside, finally allowing himself to breathe.
Just as he got comfortable, a soft whimpering rose from underneath his seat. He leaned over, and to his astonishment, a little girl with curly brown hair was crying into her arms.
Michaela ran back to the cabin, fear clearly in her eyes now. "She wasn't anywhere in the back, Sully. Oh God…what if she got off of the train?"
"She wouldn't do that—" Sully shook his head, ignoring his innate feeling that something was wrong.
"You hardly know her, Sully! You don't know what she would do!" Michaela cried, her panic turning into anger.
Stung and shocked by her words, Sully stepped back. "Abagail ain't Caroline, Michaela. We ain't gonna lose her!"
Slow tears streamed down her face as she whispered with bitter familiarity, "You can't promise me that."
"Abagail!" Robert E called down corridor. "Answer me, Abagail!"
Abagail looked at David and motioned from him to be quiet. David frowned at the little girl, but when the frantic man came to the door of the cabin, David sat up and managed a fast, nonchalant facade.
"'Cuse me, have ya seen a little girl, about three years old, pass by?" Robert E asked quickly.
"Unfortunately, no. I just boarded the train." David nodded to the man as he continued running down the corridor, eventually moving to the next car.
"Thank ya," Abagail mumbled.
"You're welcome. You're awfully young to be deserting the war," David leaned back against the chair, his eyes glazed over.
Abagail slowly poked her head out and looked at the man. He seemed nice enough, maybe a little dirty, and a little strange to think she was a soldier, but nice. "I—I gotta get home to my gwandpa. He's sick."
"So what are you doing under there?" David asked, raising his eyebrow at her.
Abagail wracked her brain, thinking of all the times Brian made her play war with him. Maybe this man wanted to play too. "I hidin' from da—da loo-tenant and da gen'ral," she said seriously.
"Ah…" David observed. He tried to smile at the little girl. He had never been good around children, but there was something very familiar about her. Maybe it was only her fugitive status, he didn't know. "What did they do to make a pretty little girl like you so upset?"
"Da gen'ral's…new. And he gave me an order."
"And you didn't like that?"
"I dunno. It's weird havin' a pa," she slipped, reality breaking into her imagination. As he heard her words, he closed his eyes, unable to focus, or to see anything clearly. The girl's image became distorted, and he blinked rapidly as he tried to see who she was.
"Did you ever think that it might be strange for him to have a daughter?" David asked rapidly, agitation clear in his voice.
"No," she shook her head, her lip pouting slightly.
"Your father would love you if he could, but he can't." David rubbed his eyes hard, trying to concentrate. It was her; he knew it was her. He could feel it. Abagail crawled out from underneath the seat, scooting to the other side of the cabin.
"He does wuv me," she protested, now feeling very uncomfortable in this man's presence.
"But he never told you, did he!" David screamed, wrenching his hands from his face, revealing bloodshot eyes. Abagail pushed herself to her knees. She had to get out of there.
But David saw her leaving again, her saw her slipping away from his grasp; and he reached out to her, trying to hold on to what he had lost. "Don't go, Caroline!"
Abagail burst through the doorway and ran out into the hallway as the train began to move.
"My daughter might have run off the train," Michaela pleaded, "Please, wait just a few more minutes."
"I'm sorry, m'am." The conductor shook his head. "The train has a strict schedule. If she's off the train, you're more than welcome to stay behind and look for her."
Michaela jumped off the train and ran around the platform, yelling Abagail's name. The engine of the train roared, and the wheels slowly began to roll.
Abagail ran down the corridors. Seeing two faces would be her only comfort. "Papa! Mama!" she yelled, as she reached their car. "Papa!"
Sully ran out into the hallway, his little girl halfway to his arms. He immediately went to her, lifting her up in his arms. "We didn't think we'd find ya."
"I sorry, Papa." Abagail hugged tightly to his neck.
"It's ok. It's gonna take some time to get use to this father-daughter stuff." Abagail nodded, and Sully gave her a peck on the cheek.
All of a sudden, the horn blew, and Sully's stomach dropped. Michaela wasn't on the train.
Sully held tight to Abagail and ran down the corridor, weaving in and out of the new passengers. When they got to an open door, Sully leaned out as far as he could and screamed her name, "Michaela! Michaela!"
Michaela. David heard her name. He thought he heard her name. But his head and eyes were pounding, and Caroline was gone. She ran away. But if Michaela found her, Michaela would smile again. Michaela would love him for bringing her back. Michaela would forgive him.
But that wasn't right. David shook his head again, trying to breathe. Michaela was in Colorado Springs, waiting for him, like she promised. She wasn't here. She wouldn't see him like this. She wouldn't see any of this.
David reached in his backpack, fumbling for what he needed. His fingers trembled as they made contact with the glass tube, and he gripped it, bringing it out into the light. Now he would have his relief. Now he could forget for a moment and dream.
He rolled his right sleeve up. He extracted the clear liquid into a syringe. The shot was quick.
His breathing slowed as the drug went through his body. The syringe fell to the ground as his eyes closed.
And as it always happened, she appeared before him, as a girl of fourteen, running together through the gardens of his father's estate. "Wait for me, Suzanne! Wait for me!"
Michaela, near crazed at the other end of the platform, turned to Sully's voice, seeing Abagail in his arms. "Oh God," she realized. "Wait for me, Sully!"
She began to run down the platform, pushing past soldiers and officers. Sully took off down the corridor, heading towards the back of the train.
"What if she don't make it, Papa?" Abagail asked worriedly as they pushed into the last car.
"She'll make it. We ain't leavin' ya ma behind," Sully answered more confidently than he felt.
Michaela jumped onto the train tracks. She would never make it on the crowded platforms.
"What the hell is she doing?" A voice exclaimed from the crowd, bringing attention to Michaela.
Sully pushed through the door and put Abagail down on her feet. Michaela was about twenty feet away. He climbed over the railing, holding on with one hand and reaching out to Michaela with the other.
The train began to pick up speed, as Michaela reached out for Sully's hand. "Come on, Michaela…" Sully's eyes melded into hers. "I won't let ya fall—"
"Sully!" She stretched herself, almost touching his fingers.
"That woman is going to kill herself!" Another voice came from the platform.
"Ya can do it, Mama!" Abagail called through the railing.
And suddenly, with every fiber of strength Michaela had in her body, she lifted her skirts up and sprinted until she firmly grasped Sully's hand. He picked her up until she got her footing on edge. He climbed over the railing first, and then lifted her over in his arms.
Sully didn't let go of Michaela. That was too close. He kept a firm arm around her waist as she tried to collect her breath. Abagail stepped up sheepishly in front of her mother.
"I sorry," she hugged Michaela's legs. "I didn't mean to scare ya."
Michaela could only nod. She picked Abagail up and hugged her. "Oh sweetheart. Don't ever do that again. I know you're still confused and upset right now, but don't ever run away from me or your father. Let's talk about our problems, not run away from them, alright?"
Abagail nodded and brought her arm around Sully's neck too. Her thoughts suddenly went to the strange man in the train, and she couldn't help but think about his words. She pulled back and looked at both of her parents.
"I wuv you," she said simply. Michaela's face softened and some of her worry left. Sully didn't really know what to say until Abagail added, "Bof of you."
Sully smiled and glanced at Michaela, who was beaming at him. He looked back to Abagail and whispered nervously, "Nemehotâtse."
Abagail scrunched her face, flabbergasted, and asked, "What does dat mean?"
"It means I love ya too, silly goose." Abagail giggled, completely missing the look passing between her mother and her father.
"Ya could have just said so!" Abagail jumped down from Michaela's arms and walked back inside the train. When she was halfway down the corridor, she realized that her parents weren't behind her.
She turned around curiously and crept back to the door. She gently opened it and slowly peeked outside. To her surprise, her papa was kissing her mama. She covered her mouth, trying not to giggle. She had never seen anyone kiss like that, but they sure seemed to like it. They were kind of sweet together, although Abagail wasn't sure about all this kissing business. She closed the door quietly, not disturbing them. Maybe if they kissed long enough, they'd get married. Abagail looked at the doorknob, and sure enough, there was a key and lock on it. She smoothly turned the key in the lock and pulled it out. She put it in her blouse pocket and ran down the corridor towards their cabin, leaving Sully and Michaela locked out.
Chapter 17
Cambridge, Massachusetts—1850
David sat in the study, trying to concentrate on his physics lessons to no avail. Suddenly, a commotion came from the entrance hall, and he could hear his father's voice, Reverend Holland Lewis, coming in gentle, comforting tones. Curiosity biting him, David left his studies and stepped into the doorway. He stopped short, as he saw his father's arm around a woman in rags.
The woman lifted her fallen head, and smiled shakily at Reverend Lewis, tears in her eyes. "Thank you so much."
"We'll do all we can for her, Mrs. March," David frowned at their exchange. His father was often helping people, but he didn't usually bring them into the house.
As his father walked Mrs. March to the door, he saw her. Across the room, a girl in tattered clothes curled on the bench, sleeping. He crossed the distance between them. He had never seen anyone so small. Wisps of her hair had fallen in front of her face, so he gently smoothed them away. Upon seeing her face, he realized that she wasn't a little girl. She must be around his age.
"Hey," he whispered, kneeling down beside her. "Hey."
Gradually, her eyes fluttered and slowly revealed two bluish-violet eyes. They were striking in the middle of her pale face, and David didn't notice the girl smirking at him.
"You're staring at me," she whispered.
"I'm sorry." He blushed profusely, looking away quickly. "I didn't mean to—"
"Yes you did." She sat up, looking at him pointedly. She began to sit up, but she stopped, closing her eyes, taking a shaky breath.
"Are you alright?" David sat down beside her, putting his arm around her.
"I'm fine." She moved a way from his touch. "Just a little hungry."
"I believe that, Skinny-legs," The girl glared at him and then punched him in the arm. David stood up, laughing in vain, and rubbed his sore arm. For a puny girl, she had a good arm.
"My name is Suzanne, you jerk!" Suzanne and David glared at each other until Reverend Lewis appeared back in the Entrance Hall.
"David! I see you're being the ever studious scholar."
David stood at attention, completely subservient in his father's presence. "I'm sorry, father. I heard—"
"Nevermind. I don't want to hear your excuses. I see you've met our guest. Suzanne will be staying with us for a while."
"Why!" David asked, forgetting his manners and rubbing his sore arm.
"She is here as God's will. Just the same as you are," his father answered vaguely. "Now since you seem so determined to neglect your studies, I'm leaving you in charge of Suzanne."
"But—"
"Why don't you take her to the kitchen and ask cook to make her something to eat?" His father suggested evenly but sternly.
Reverend Lewis patted Suzanne on the head and walked into his study. As the study door closed, David slowly turned around and glared at Suzanne. She smiled slowly, a cocky, winning grin lighting her face.
Nemehotâtse. Michaela could hear Abagail chirping away, but her thoughts centered on one word. One man. Sully's hold tightened around her waist as Abagail pranced to the doorway, oblivious to their inability to move away from each other.
As the door shut, Sully pressed his hand firmly against the small of her back and slid his other hand up the side of her waist. He could feel it all around them—time running away from them, falling behind them like the trampled railroad in the retreating distance.
"You still…" She put her hands on his face, her mouth just below his. As always, an unshakable anxiety crept over her body, when that was the last thing she felt in her heart. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to let him know—she wanted—
Before her fears from the past could override her heart, he covered her lips with his own, letting her know his answer was yes, a thousand times yes, that words weren't necessary, that yes, he would love her through separation, pain, heartache, eternity, yes, he wanted her body, soul, and spirit, that yes, she was strong, beautiful, desirable, that yes, God yes, he still loved her. He had never stopped. Yes.
The train made for unstable footing, so Michaela and Sully clung to each other as their only support. The kiss deepened, and Michaela felt herself melting under his touch. She couldn't punish herself anymore. She loved this man, and she wanted to be with him.
As the train circled a bend, they lost their footing completely and fell back against the door of the train. Michaela's back pressed against the door, and Sully caught himself on either side of her. They stared at each other for a moment, chests swelling, so much unspoken, yet so much now known.
Without thinking of the past or the future, Sully took her face in his hands, holding her in this moment, and whispered, "I want ya to be my wife."
Colorado Springs—1873
The sunlight glistened through the trees as they ran down their secret path to the waterfall. A trail of trousers, blouses, skirts, shirts, socks, and shoes fell on the dirt as Abagail and Brian stripped down to their birthday suits before they cannon balled into the water.
Abagail immersed herself under the water, thankful that her first day of seventh grade was over. She'd just assume stay outside all day skinny dipping with Brian.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" he asked, splashing water in her direction.
"I'm thinkin'…me and you…should stage a revolt against Ms. Morales and demand more classes outside." She grinned at him diabolically, her eyes forming her master plan already.
"Don't you take anythin' seriously, Abs?" He shook his head at her, unable to hide his amusement as she made faces at him.
"Sure I do! Like you. I take ya very, very seriously." Abagail began swimming towards him like a shark hunting her prey.
"Oh no ya don't! I know that look!" Brian began swimming towards the waterfall, trying to get away from her clutches. Unfortunately, Abagail was a fast swimmer, and she grabbed his leg and yanked him down beneath the surface of the water.
They tangled underneath the water, tickling each other mercilessly, fighting for domination until the need for oxygen made them both seek air. Bouncing up together, they gasped for air, but Abagail was still not one to give up to a measly boy, so she threw her arms around his neck in order to bring him down again.
But Brian had stopped moving and was simply watching her, a small blush running up the side of his face. Abagail, who was practically roaring with effort, finally stopped moving and noticed the strange expression on his face.
He looked positively ill! "What's the matter with ya?"
Before she could think or move or protest, Brian planted a kiss on her lips. Alarms went off in her head as his lips pressed against hers tentatively, and suddenly she remembered the train, and how her parents looked so happy as they kissed one another….
Suddenly she pushed away from him, her face crimson with anger and sadness. "Don't ever do that again, Brian."
Brian's face dropped as he watched her swim away from him. The waterhole grew very quiet as she ran into the bushes. And he knew that things would never be the same again.
Cambridge, Massachusetts--1850
As David tried to concentrate on his studies, Suzanne sat beside him, kicking his legs underneath the table. He finally slammed down his pencil and glared at her. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"No," she smiled saucily.
"Well, why don't you read a book?" he suggested, handing her a newly published novel.
Suzanne stared at the cover, tracing her fingers over the golden inscription. She looked at David nervously, who had gone back to his work. "David?" she whispered.
"What is it now?" He asked, exasperated.
"What does it say?" He stared at her for a moment, not understanding, and then slowly, it came to him. She couldn't read.
"It—it says The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne," he answered softly. He dropped his pen and watched her as she considered the book.
"What's it about?" She asked, looking at the golden trim that covered the book.
"I haven't read it yet, but supposedly a woman is branded with the scarlet letter." He let his fingers trace over the words on the book. He looked at her between his lashes. She was trying to make sense of the words.
"Why?" Suzanne asked, leaning on her elbows, looking up at him.
"For loving someone she shouldn't," David responded, watching her forehead frown in confusion as she looked at the lettering again.
"I wouldn't mind that," she said after a moment.
"Why's that?" David asked, curious.
"Because I would know, without a doubt, that someone loved me. And he would know too." She turned to the first page of the book. "Wouldn't you be willing to do anything for love, David?"
"I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders. "I've never been in love."
"There's a first time for everything." She turned back to the book. "Will you read it to me?"
"Yes," David said and lifted the book.
For once in her life, Michaela did not stop to think. "I want that too, Sully."
"Marry me," he breathed into her mouth, filling her body with his spirit. "Now."
"Sully!" She laughed self-consciously. "We're on a train! Now isn't—"
"Ya it is. Now is perfect. We've wasted so much time, Michaela. I'm not talkin' about ceremonies or legal documents. I'm talkin' about what's in ya heart and what's in mine. Marry me."
Michaela nodded, understanding, knowing her heart was ready. If she knew anything for certain, it was that she would love him for the rest of her life. "I'll marry you."
He leaned down and kissed her, before taking her hands in his, entwining their fingers together. "I, Byron Sully, take ya Michaela Quinn to be my wife. I will carry ya heart, soul, and spirit with me no matter where ya are. I will love ya, honor ya, and protect ya and will never break ya spirit or ya faith in me. I believe in ya, and I believe that we can do anythin' together. I will never leave ya heart. As long as we both shall live."
Michaela looked at him and knew he was right. This was their moment, and time couldn't stop it. "I have loved you longer than I can even begin to tell you. It wasn't something I could control, but I knew I had to be a part of your life." She let the tears go and smiled at him with bright, hopeful eyes. "I, Michaela Quinn, take you Byron Sully to be my husband. I will carry you—all of you with me no matter what happens in our lives. I love you. God, I love you, and I will honor you, and protect you and will never break your spirit or your faith in me. Thank you for believing in me and showing me that it wasn't too late to believe in myself. We can do anything together because we believe in each other. I will never leave you. All of this, as long as we both shall live."
Sully, shaken with emotion, took her mouth in his, pulling her to him as he tried to maintain control of his desire and passion for this woman, his wife. The train began its ascent up a ridge and Sully knew they needed to get inside—preferably somewhere alone.
He reached for the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge.
As Michaela grew bolder and slid a hand down his chest, tracing his muscles, Sully soon forgot anything about a locked door. He brought his hands up the sides of her ribcage. Barely grazing the edge of her breasts, Michaela shuttered and pulled Sully closer.
Their bodies touched from chest to hips, and as the train began to descend, Sully's body pressed against hers, and slowly their hips began to rock together, until Michaela's head fell back against the door, and she said, "Yes…yes…oh, yes."
Chapter 18
Robert E shuffled down the corridor, sweat dripping from his brow. He hated to come back to the cabin without any good news, but he had looked everywhere on the train twice, to no avail. He took a deep breath before he stepped through the doorway of the cabin.
To his surprise, the only person in the cabin was Abagail, who had her feet up on the seat and fresh lemonade in her hands. "Hi Robert E!" she exclaimed happily, oblivious to his pain and suffering.
"Miss Abagail! Where in the world have ya been?" Abagail swallowed her lemonade and smacked here lips.
"I been right heh! Wheh have ya been?" She looked at him quizzically.
"Lookin' for you!" He ran to her and scooped her up in his lap. "Ya scared me and ya ma and pa to death!"
"Oh, they just fine now!" Abagail giggled mischievously. Robert E narrowed his eyes at the little girl.
"Abagail," he said slowly.
"Robert Eeee," she sang sweetly back, holding her laughter inside.
"Where are ya ma and pa?" Abagail bit her lip down guiltily and gripped the key in her blouse pocket, remaining silent under Robert E's scrutinizing gaze.
Cambridge, Massachusetts—1850
David and Suzanne sat in front of the fire in the study. He held the book in front of her as he pointed to the words, reading fervently as the tortured lovers in the story reunited. "'Do I feel joy again?' cried he, wondering at himself. 'Methought the germ of it was dead in me! O Hester, thou art my better angel! I seem to have flung myself—sick, sin-stained, and sorrow-blackened—down upon these forest-leaves, and to have risen up all made anew, and with new powers to glorify Him that hath been merciful! This is already the better life! Why did we not find it sooner?"
He stopped for a moment and looked at her, her eyes soft and iridescent in the firelight. She swallowed nervously and put her hand over his. "Let me try."
David nodded and moved closer to her. She held the book in front of her as he pointed to where he had left off. She nodded and peered closely at the words, trying to form the sounds of the letters with her mouth.
"L-let…uh-uh—us…nah—aught… l-luhk… b—back." David could hear the tears in her voice, so he didn't look at her.
When she stopped reading, he turned to her and whispered, "That was perfect. Why did you stop?"
Suzanne shook her head, turning away from him. "No, I sound ignorant. Not like you. I'm nothing like you, David. I don't belong here."
"Yes, you do."
"You didn't think so at first."
"I didn't know you then. I think you're very smart, and I think you can do this. We'll just have to practice together," David said resolutely.
"You'll teach me?" She asked hopefully. David nodded and opened the book again.
"Start here."
"Th-he p-aast is g-uh-ne." She looked at the sentence again. "The past is gone!"
"That's right." David nodded, pushing her, a soft smile lighting his face as she continued.
"Wh-ere…fore shh-ould we l-inger upon it now? See! With this s-symb-bol—" She stopped suddenly, out of breath, and looked at him. Her face had paled slightly but the shine was still in her eyes. "Read the rest of it with me, David."
He nodded and leaned closer to her. Together they read, "With this symbol, I undo it all, and make it as if it had never been!"
Suddenly, David felt her head press against the corner of his shoulder. He could hardly move. Her soft blonde hair felt like angel wings against his neck. He turned to her, but Suzanne was asleep.
He gently took the book out of her hands and laid it on the floor. Slowly, so not to disturb her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs to her bedroom.
Just as he was about to turn out her light, he stopped, and kissed her forehead. "You are my better angel," he whispered. And with that, he left her to her dreams.
As trees became scarcer with each passing track, Michaela felt as though she were waking from a beautiful dream, and she pushed reality back as long as she could, as waves of love and passion passed over her.
Cotton…Buckskin…Calico…Leather…The material that stood between them had become just as maddening and obtrusive as the chimney stacks that were beginning to line the tracks. Michaela's hand trailed up the side of Sully's neck, needing to touch his skin. Her touch was cool, sending a delicious chill down his spine. In turn, his lips made their way to the delicate skin behind her ear, and slowly, slowly, he kissed her until she was forced to pull on the front of his shirt, breaking the top two buttons…
David jerked from his sleep, not realizing where he was at first. Then suddenly, like a bad dream, it all came back to him. He was going back to Boston, a place he never thought he would return. The war. Michaela. Caroline. Suzanne. But…but…he had seen Caroline, hadn't he? She wasn't dead. She wasn't.
He needed air.
He pushed himself up, his body shaking as he fought for control. He raced down the corridor, pushing past anyone who stood in his way. The train seemed even longer than he remembered. As he pushed into the next car, the door was in sight, and he lunged for the handle, for his release—
"Michaela," Sully shivered as her bare hand pressed against his chest. She pulled back, her eyes glazed with desire.
It was a perfect moment.
Suddenly, the past flew at them, and the rattling of the door jerked them away from each other.
The door wouldn't open. He couldn't breathe, and the door wouldn't open. David began to beat on the door with his hand, tears forming in his eyes, blurring his vision. "Let me out of here! Let me out!" He screamed violently.
Robert E and Abagail walked down the corridor, side by side. Robert E was in firm possession of the key now, only after tickling it out of Abagail. "I'm tellin' ya, Robert E, dey gonna be maaad at ya!"
"I think it'll be the other way around, little lady." He shook his head at her as she stuck her tongue out at him. But when they entered the next car, Abagail's face dropped, and she quickly felt for Robert E's hand as they saw the man at the other end of the hallway beating at the door.
"Pick me up peas, Robert E," Abagail asked quietly. Robert E picked up the normally brazen child who now meekly tucked her head under his chin.
"It's ok, sweetheart. Robert E's gotcha." Robert E's eyes widened as he watched the man at the other end of the hall. Something was not right with him.
Michaela and Sully stepped back from the door as they heard the man's cries. "Dear God," Michaela whispered.
Suddenly the conductor came running past Robert E and Abagail. He pulled David back from the door. "Excuse me, sir! You're disturbing the other passengers!"
David grabbed his forehead, his eyes pounding. "Unlock this door now!"
The conductor looked at the lock, realizing that the key was missing. "I apologize, sir. But the key seems to have been misplaced."
"You don't have another key? I need air now!"
"Alright, alright. Why don't you come with me, sir, and we'll open one of the middle doors for you."
David nodded slowly, his energy dispelling.
As David passed them, Abagail buried her face in Robert E's neck, so he wouldn't see her.
Once they were gone, Robert E and Abagail walked quickly to the door and unlocked it.
Michaela and Sully stood apart, startled expressions on their faces. Her heart was racing. Passion and fear consumed her. She knew that voice, but where had it gone?
State Lunatic Hospital of South Boston
David only looked at the floor as he walked down the gray hallway. He wrung his hands together as they got closer to the room. The nurse turned and looked at him, a stoic expression on her face. "She's been waiting for you."
David slowly walked into the room. She looked exactly the same. Small, clear skin and eyes that glowed on her face. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand over hers, held down in restraints.
"Hello angel," he whispered, shaking as he watched her eyes twitch.
"David?" She murmured, as her hand slowly closed over his.
"It's me."
"Did you bring Caroline with you?" She asked hopefully, her pupils dilating.
David turned from her, the pain choking him like a knife. "She's at home, sweetheart."
"Oh." Suzanne's face fell and the light went out of her eyes. "Oh."
"Suzanne—"
She scratched his hand, ripping it away from hers. "I saw you kiss her—"
"Stop it, Suzanne!"
"And Caroline wanted me, she wanted her mother, and you wouldn't let me see her, you wouldn't let me see her—" Suzanne said rapidly.
"I said stop it, Suzanne!"
"And Caroline was so cold—"
"Shut up!" David yelled, standing up, tears running down his face. He turned around slowly, catching his breath. "I'm sorry."
"Why did you stop loving me?" She cried softly.
"I didn't." David fell to his knees, leaning against the bed, looking at her.
"Then why did you leave me here? Why?" She reached for his hand through the restraints.
Her hand, just like her, always so needing, reached for him. God help him, after everything, he still loved her, but he couldn't take it.
No one was there to pick them up at the station. So they walked. A carriage might have been nice, Michaela thought, as she looked at her worn shoes and her tattered dress, but she was going to see her father tonight, regardless of how she got there.
While her thoughts rested on her father, Sully and Abagail were in a completely different world. Abagail looked at her pa and with wide eyes. He grinned at her. She didn't know anything but trees and mountains and rivers. Cities never held any charm for him, but he knew he would never forget the expression on her face.
Robert E walked along beside them, his head down. He felt strange being so far away from home. His life wasn't his anymore, despite being free.
Michaela finally stopped in front of a large brick home. She turned to Sully and took a deep breath. "This is it."
Sully looked at the grande house and nodded. He picked Abagail up with one arm and held out his other hand for her. This was it. She took it, and they walked together towards the front door.
Chapter 19
Sully looked down at their joined hands. Michaela's knuckles were white against his. He squeezed her hand, giving her his support and strength. Then reluctantly, they let go of each other before Michaela knocked on the door. Sully sighed. Not being able to touch her while they were here was going to be difficult, but they had decided that until they could prove David was behind Caroline's death and not Michaela, their love affair would only create further scandal for the family, and Sully refused to let Michaela's heart be broken again. As the door flung open, her breath froze in the air, as Harrison and Martha stood like Greek statues before them.
"Martha?" Michaela whispered hesitantly. Suddenly, Martha's countenance broke as she recognized the voice, and a bright smile broke out across her face.
"Dr. Mike!" Martha, completely forgetting her position, ran forward and hugged Michaela, quickly followed by Harrison.
"What is all this commotion!" demanded a commanding, loud voice at the top of the stairs. Stepping forward slowly, Michaela walked to the bottom of the stairs.
"I'm home, mother," Michaela said as Elizabeth Quinn made her way down the stairs. Mother and daughter looked at each other for a moment. There was no anger in Elizabeth's eyes anymore, only shock and hidden happiness at the sight of her youngest daughter. Tired circles formed around her eyes from long hours of sitting next to her husband's bedside; and she nearly broke her usual restrained manner, but stopped herself before she reached for Michaela, always remaining in control.
Elizabeth then noticed her daughter's travel companions. She blinked once, twice, three times, trying to make these three unsightly forms become more appealing to her eyes. It didn't work. "Dare I even ask, Michaela?"
Michaela turned to them, smiling bravely. Only Sully saw the slight apprehension in her eyes. "Mother, I'd like you to meet Robert E. He's been traveling with us since Kansas and has proven to be a most trusted friend. We probably wouldn't have made it here without him."
"Well, ya daughter's exaggeratin', Mrs. Quinn. It's her and little miss here who saved my life." Elizabeth simply raised her eyebrows at Robert E. He seemed nice enough, but what he needed was a good bath and clean clothes.
During this time, Abagail had silently slid down from Sully's arms and tip-toed up beside Michaela. "Mama!" She whispered loudly. "Is she weally ya ma?"
Elizabeth's mouth dropped. "Mama? Michaela, what on earth is going on?"
All of Michaela's worry suddenly vanished as she lifted Miss Sully into her arms, and she felt her small, trusting arms circle her neck. "This is my daughter, mother. Her name is Abagail Sully. I've been with her since the day she was born—"
Sully stepped up beside Michaela, his shoulder brushing against hers. "I asked Michaela to take care of her, m'am."
"And who are you!" Elizabeth exclaimed as she examined him from head to toe. He looked positively barbaric and heathen.
"I'm—" Sully began.
But Michaela saw the look on her mother's face and was suddenly furious. "He's my—"
Sully quickly put his hand on her elbow, stopping her from saying it. "Byron Sully, m'am."
"Martha!" Elizabeth called shrilly. Matters were completely out of hand, and she couldn't have that. Elizabeth Quinn was about to take control of this ridiculous situation once and for all. "Will you please show my daughter's guests to a clean room and also prepare them each a bath?"
Martha nodded quickly and began leading them up the stairs. As Michaela began to go along with them, Elizabeth said, "I'd like to talk to you alone, Michaela, if you would please stay behind."
Sully and Michaela exchanged glances before he left her alone, which didn't go unnoticed by Elizabeth.
When Michaela turned to look at her mother, Elizabeth had a grave expression on her face. "Oh my girl, do you have any idea what you are doing?"
"Mother, can we please discuss this later? I want to see father." Michaela started again for the stairs, but Elizabeth interjected.
"Where's David?"
Michaela sighed. Her mother was too perceptive and set in her ways. "I haven't heard from him in over five months."
"Does he know you're raising another man's child?"
"He marched out the day Sully gave her to me."
Elizabeth shook her head. "And this Sully fellow?"
"He just came back to me—to us." Michaela knew her mother was watching her closely, so she turned her back to her and walked across the room. "His wife died due to complications after Abagail was born. He's been grieving for her for the past three years."
Elizabeth watched her daughter's eyes as they went towards the stairs. "And you?"
"What about me?"
Elizabeth crossed the room to her daughter and touched her arms, looking her directly in her eyes. "Where do you fit in to all of this?"
Michaela looked in her mother's eyes and she knew that she knew everything without saying a word. "I've made promises, mother. Some that I intend to keep and some that will have to be broken. I can't say more than that right now. If you will excuse me, I must see father."
Elizabeth watched her daughter ascend the stairs. She had already lost her once. She didn't know if she could stand to lose her again, and everything about this situation screamed disaster.
Michaela walked slowly down the hallway to her father's suite. When she got there, she stopped in front of the large mahogany doors. She put her hand on the doorknob, but she couldn't turn it. All she could see was the expression on his face. All she could hear was his voice. "Promise me."
"Michaela." Sully was standing beside her.
"What if—" She shuttered, gripping the handle. Sully put his hand over hers.
"He loves you, Michaela." Then they turned the knob together, opening the door. Michaela turned around and looked at him before she went inside.
"I'll be waitin' for ya," he whispered.
A blaze stirred in the fireplace, and she slowly made her way to her father's bedside. He looked so changed—his normally rosy cheeks were flushed with gray, and his eyelids were dark and hollow.
"Father?" Michaela whispered, taking his hands in hers. She brought his hands up to her lips, kissing away the lost time. His eyes opened slowly, searching for the voice he had missed with every breath of his body.
"Mike?" She nodded vigorously as she heard the recognition in his voice. "You came back. Thank God."
As he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, she leaned her head against his chest. Reprieve was there for her if only she would take it. They didn't speak for several minutes. They simply held each other as father and daughter, the past neither here nor there.
"I'm so sorry, father. For everything," she finally spoke.
He caressed her long hair, his voice low and weak from sleep and medication. "Shh… Let's not talk of the past now."
She leaned up, her head turned from his face. "But I need to talk about it, father. I've let it eat away my life. I can't let it do that anymore."
"Alright. We'll talk." As Michaela turned from Josef, her hair slipped from his fingers. "Your happiness means everything to me, Mike."
She began slowly, saying things that she had kept silent for five years. "I was wrong… when I promised you that I wouldn't use those drugs. That little girl was in excruciating pain. I became emotionally involved, and I made a choice in a desperate moment."
Josef reached for her hand again. "And I'm the one who put you in that position."
"Father—"
Josef sighed, the memory of the flimsy excuses that the other physicians had for turning the case over tightened his stomach. "There wasn't one doctor in that hospital besides you that would go near that case. You did everything you could for that child. And I'm afraid I asked too much of you. I'm sorry for that, Michaela."
"I'm sorry too." Michaela quickly turned back to her father and hugged him, burying her face in his neck. "I just want you to look at me the way you used to."
"Michaela."
"Yes?"
"Look at me." Michaela slowly raised her head to look at her father, whose eyes were warm, open, and loving. "I am."
And then it struck her. Sully was right. He had never stopped looking at her with pride and love. It was she who had turned away from him. It was her light that had gone out.
As Michaela stepped into the hallway, another door opened. Michaela bit her lip as Sully gave her a lopsided grin. "I feel like a fool," he mumbled as he ambled towards her, wearing clean dress pants and a crisp, white dress shirt that belonged to her father.
"You look handsome." She grinned like a Cheshire cat as she put her arms on his shoulders. "And you smell good too."
"Girly soaps," Sully grumbled.
"No." Michaela shook her head, as she let her hands run up to his clean-shaven face. "You smell like a man to me."
"Ok, friend." Sully quickly removed her hands from his face. "What happens if ya ma walks down the hall and sees us?"
Michaela's eyes widened, remembering. "I forgot."
"From the way things went downstairs, I'm not sure if she even likes me stayin' in her house, let alone marryin' her daughter." He stepped away from her. "How'd it go with ya pa?"
Michaela nodded, not completely resolved, but not scared anymore of seeing her father. "Better than I thought. We talked a little about what happened. Sully… I want to introduce you to him tomorrow."
"Yeah?" he smiled, genuinely flattered.
She stepped closer, wanting to break the horrid distance between them. "If anyone can soften the path to my mother's heart, it's him."
"Sounds like a plan." He wanted to kiss her, but the bells on the grandfather clock began to chime. "I guess we should put Abagail in bed?"
She nodded, and they walked together down the hall.
As Michaela and Sully walked further down the hallway, loud vocalizations reverberated from the bathroom. Sully and Michaela glanced at each other before heading into the war zone. Abagail, in the middle of the porcelain tub, was buried amongst a mountain of white foamy bubbles.
"Boom!" She yelled, sending white waves up into the air. Martha turned to Michaela and Sully, drenched.
"She's a very enthusiastic child!" Martha laughed as she brushed off bubbles and foam from her uniform.
"Indeed," Michaela laughed as she went over to the tub and fished Abagail out of the water. Martha quickly brought over a towel and covered the foamy girl.
"But I not tired, Mama!" Abagail whined through a stifled yawn.
Sully turned to the door where a little white night gown hung with faded pink ribbons woven through the hemming. He grinned as he saw the small pink M in the corner of the gown. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Michaela was ever a little girl.
As Martha left Abagail's suite, Elizabeth quickly stopped her. "Martha! What are you laughing about?"
"Oh! Excuse me, m'am. I didn't mean to." Martha looked guiltily at Elizabeth and resumed her stone-like expression. All of a sudden, Elizabeth heard Sully and Michaela's laughter breaking through the door.
"What is going on in there?" Elizabeth inquired.
"Well, the little one is telling her parents a bedtime story," Martha said as dead-pan as she possibly could.
"Oh, for heaven's sakes, Martha! I've never heard of anything so ridiculous!"
"They're a delightful family, m'am. I think Dr. Mike is really happy."
"Hush, Martha! Don't you dare repeat a word of that to anyone! Michaela is still engaged to Dr. Lewis. It would be perfectly disgraceful if Reverend and Mrs. Lewis knew that Michaela had abandoned their son while he was off serving his country."
"Yes m'am." Martha hesitated for a second, but then blurted out, "But she…she… she just doesn't love David!."
"Martha, you're completely out of line! I think you've certainly said enough tonight! I hope you will have remembered your place in this household before you return tomorrow. Goodnight!" Martha quickly scampered down the hall, getting far away from Elizabeth. The laughter from the bedroom had died down, and Elizabeth slowly moved to the doorway and peered inside.
Michaela and Sully lay on either side of Abagail. Michaela was humming a soft melody, as she lifted the curls up and down, up and down off of Abagail's forehead. The little girl's eyes had faded, and her breathing mimicked the rhythm of the song. Sully held one of Abagail's hands, and leaned against the headboard, never taking his eyes off of Michaela.
As Michaela lifted her eyes, a light filled them. Elizabeth knew that light, how improper, wrong, and completely wonderful it was.
And she looked away.
The house was silent as Michaela finally allowed her body to be engulfed the warm bath water. Her muscles ached, every inch of them, and as the warm liquid covered her, she felt as if she could begin to heal, body, mind, and soul.
But the silence didn't last as the door slowly opened.
Chapter 20
Sully couldn't sleep. After eight days of constant contact on the open trail, sleeping alone in this comfortable, warm bed was pure misery. He threw off the covers and continued to lie there, stewing. He wanted to be with her.
A chill whispered down Michaela's back as the draft flew across the room. "Who's there?" she called, grimacing as she heard the slight waver in her voice.
"It's me, Dr. Mike!" A frightened whisper answered.
"Martha?" Michaela turned around in the bathtub and looked at the trembling maid. "Aren't you supposed to be off duty? Wasn't your family expecting you?"
"I did go home, I did, Dr. Mike." Martha stepped into the bathroom and shut the door, her face ashen with worry. "Something terrible has happened, and I didn't know who else to go to."
Alarmed, Michaela sat up in the tub, her arms covering her chest self-consciously. "Is someone hurt?"
"It's my sister. She showed up at my parents' house tonight. We haven't seen her in years. When we came over from Ireland, she was headstrong and refused to go to work like the rest of us. I think she's gotten herself in trouble." Martha looked down, ashamed. Michaela's heart went out to Martha. Michaela hardly thought of Martha as a servant, but much more as her friend. She didn't need to hear anymore. She knew she had to help.
"Martha, go get my medical bag while I get dressed. I left it downstairs." She hesitated momentarily, a thought coming to her. "And wake up Mr. Sully. He'll escort us. You can trust him."
Martha scurried out of the room, and Michaela stood from the tub. The air was cold in the large bathroom, and her toes curled as she touched the tiles on the floor. Halfway to the rack of towels, the doorknob began to twist. As the door opened, Michaela lunged for the towel in time to barely cover herself.
"Michaela?" Sully barged into the bathroom, a worried expression on his face.
"Sully!" Michaela jumped back, shocked and embarrassed, nearly losing her hold on the towel.
"Oh…I'm—uh…Martha said ya needed me," Sully said hoarsely, as he attempted to look away but failed miserably when he clearly saw her. She was beautiful and bare to him, as the reflection of her back painted itself on the full body mirror in the corner. He gripped the handle of the door to stop himself from going further inside.
"I—I need you to go with me to Martha's house. Her sister's sick," Michaela whispered hurriedly, modesty only permitting her to gaze at him through fallen lashes.
"Of course… Well, I'll…um, let you get dressed." Sully forced himself to turn his eyes away, quickly running down the hall, not even entertaining the idea of looking towards her bedroom. The vision he had just seen went beyond fantasies.
As Michaela heard the bedroom door shut, she exhaled, and dropped the towel.
As the carriage rolled up in front of the ramshackle brownstone, Martha had become inconsolable. Sully and Michaela held her up as they made their way up three flights of stairs, until they reached her family's home.
Sully knocked on the door, and they were greeted by an elderly woman, who had a weathered but kind face. "Thank God ya here. I'm Mrs. O'Brien. My daughter's needin' ya services, Dr. Quinn."
"I'll do what I can for her, Mrs. O'Brien," Michaela said, taking the woman's hand in hers.
"This way," said Martha, who was still trying not to cry. Martha led them to a small bedroom where a woman with disheveled auburn hair and fair skin lay quivering with fever.
Michaela felt her forehead and shook her head. The fever was high. The woman slowly opened her eyes, as Michaela brought her fingers down to her lymph nodes.
"I'm Dr. Quinn. Can you hear me—" Michaela looked to Martha for help.
"Rose. Her name is Rose, Dr. Mike. But she hasn't said a word since she came home," Martha whispered, tears in her voice.
Rose's eyes began to focus, and slowly, Michaela's face began to form in front of her. Their eyes met, and Michaela smiled at Rose reassuringly. All of a sudden, her breathing rapidly increased, and Rose began to shake. "What's happening to her?" Martha called out, alarmed as she watched her sister's chest palpitate erratically.
Michaela frowned, not understanding her sudden alarm, pulled out her stethoscope and opened the buttons on Rose's shirt to get a good reading of her heartbeat. "I think she's having a panic attack."
But when Michaela looked back down at Rose's chest, her throat went dry. That's when her alarm began. "Sully… would you mind leaving for a moment? I need to give Rose a full examination."
Just as Sully was about to leave, he stopped and turned, looking at Michaela. Her face was white, as if she had seen a ghost.
Michaela continued to unbutton Rose's shirt and her camisole, trying to focus, trying to keep her mind off of her fear. The rash extended from the top of her breasts down to her stomach.
"Dear God," whispered Martha.
Michaela looked up into Rose's eyes. Her breathing had calmed somewhat, but her eyes were fixed on Michaela's face. Michaela felt like the woman was looking straight through her, but she forced herself to continue.
"There's nothing to be frighten of, Rose. I won't harm you. I'm here to help." Michaela placed her hand over Rose's clinched fist. "Please let me help you."
Tears welled up in Rose's eyes as she seemed to struggle with her decision. With great effort, she nodded her head.
Michaela took a deep breath. "Alright. I'm going to take off your pantaloons, and I'm going to need you to bend your knees and spread your legs so I can examine you."
After the examination was over, the diagnosis was certain. "Rose," Michaela said numbly, "You are in the secondary phase of syphilis. You have scar tissue around your cervix and vagina where the original chancres were. You'll need to start mercury treatments immediately. They've proven to be the best cure with primary and secondary syphilis."
As Martha began asking questions, a strange buzzing seemed to overpower the room, and Michaela couldn't hear, think, or speak anymore. She was back in time, starring at Caroline, unable to help her, but still telling her that it was going to be alright, still going through the motions of being a good doctor.
"Dr. Mike! Are you alright, Dr. Mike?" Martha called her named, as she started hearing voices again.
"Michaela! Open your eyes!" Sully shouted urgently, as he held her in his arms. As she came to, she looked pleadingly in his eyes.
"I can't do this. Take me home, Sully." Without any questions, Sully picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the apartment.
It was nearly midnight when Sully and Michaela returned to Beacon Hill. Michaela was frighteningly quiet. After she had abandoned the case, Michaela retreated within herself. Sully kept a protective arm around her the entire time; and as Harrison opened the front door of the house, she nestled even closer into his arms. With one sharp look from Sully, Harrison's face went blank. No one would know of this incident in the morning.
They walked to the bottom of the stairs, but Michaela stopped at the first step.
"Michaela?" Sully asked quietly, holding on to her hand. She seemed immobile, unwilling to move backward or forward, frozen in time. After she had fainted and he realized that the woman had syphilis, he had not hesitated getting her out of there, but now he wasn't sure it was the right choice. No one had ever forced her to face her fears. They had always forced her to push them behind her. He needed to be different. He had to be different, or this weight she carried was going to kill her. "Come here," he whispered softly, lifting her in his arms. "Ya gonna get passed this, even if I have to carry ya part of the way."
As the oil lamps made shadows against the walls of the dark hallways, Michaela and Sully slipped deftly into her room and shut the door. He placed her on her feet and lifted her chin, catching her lost eyes. "What can I do, Michaela?"
Michaela barely shook her head. "Make me forget."
He swallowed. Her raw heart exposed to him, vulnerable to him, sent chills down his body. But he knew it couldn't be like this. It had to be about them, and only them.
"Alright," he whispered, taking her hand in his. "Come with me."
"How did you know?" She giggled, a bright grin spread across her face as she took another mouthful.
"I have my ways," Sully smiled back, thankful he was able to get the smile to return to her face. They sat across from each other in the dark kitchen, which had quickly become Sully's favorite room in the imposing house.
"Abagail is going to be so jealous!" Michaela snickered as she scooped another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She had absolutely no idea how he was able to lead them down here, but she couldn't have been more grateful. Everything else just seemed like a bad dream now.
"She does have a sweet tooth, don't she?" Sully leaned on his elbows on the kitchen counter, watching Michaela eat the biggest bowl of ice cream he could have possibly made.
"That's mostly Brian Cooper's influence. She thinks he hung the moon. But chocolate ice cream… now that is our secret treat. You sure you don't want any?" Michaela tapped her spoon on the crystal bowl.
Sully smirked slowly, his eyes warm with unsaid meaning. "Nah. I just like to watch ya."
Michaela caught his eye and grinned conspiratorially as she slid from the kitchen stool and began to circle around the counter towards him. "Sully… Come on, try a little…You really have no idea what you're missing."
"Michaela…now ya just stay on the other side of the island where ya belong." Sully ordered as he began to edge off of his stool.
Michaela shook her head, holding out a big spoonful of chocolate ice scream. "Don't want to."
Before he had a chance to run, she had him cornered, standing as close to him as she could, with the spoon right under his mouth. Just as she was about to feed him, he unceremoniously fell off the stool, taking her with him. "Michaela!"
They toppled on the floor, the crystal bowl and Michaela both landing flat on Sully's stomach. Michaela still had her grip on the spoon, and dug into what was left of the splattered ice cream, pointing it right in front of Sully's mouth. "I wouldn't try to move, if I were you. This is mother's best crystal."
Sully tried his best to keep an angry face as she force fed him, covered in chocolate ice cream. "Well?" She asked, once he had his bite. He lifted his hand and took a swipe at the chocolate that was smeared across her face.
"Delicious," he whispered huskily. Their smiles eventually faded as they lay together on the cold kitchen floor, and they were replaced with heated looks that made them forget where they were.
The crystal bowl was slowly pushed to the side, and despite Sully's best intentions, he found himself being pulled in. Everything was forgotten. They were the only two people on earth in that moment. His other hand ran from her hip to her face, as he cradled her between his legs. Their physical awareness of each other was almost painful and acute.
A self-conscious smile stretched slowly across her face as he practically squirmed beneath her. Her face flushed as she realized the affect she was having on him. Just as she was about to move, a small smudge of chocolate on his cheek caught her attention. She couldn't ignore it, so with deliberate tenderness, she kissed it away.
Sully moaned as he felt her lips and tongue against his skin. His restraint was slowly dying with each passing moment. "Michaela… I think… I think we really need to clean up."
Reluctantly, they pulled away.
They were back where they started, at the bathroom. Michaela had to stifle her laughter as Sully attempted to open the door without touching it with his sticky hands. Once he had the door open, they shut it and tip-toed inside.
"You first," Michaela offered.
Sully frowned and pulled at a lock of her sticky hair. "What about your hair?"
Michaela shrugged, half-smiling. "I can wait."
Sully shook his head.
"It might take a while," she warned.
"I'll help ya. It's my fault anyway." Michaela blushed, touched that he wanted to help her.
She turned around and held her hair up. He stepped behind her and slowly began to unbutton the back of her stained dress. Her hair and dress dropped simultaneously. Because of the emergency, her earlier bathwater was still in the tub. Michaela sat down on a small stool, leaned back on the edge of the tub, and closed her eyes as Sully kneeled down beside her and began to pour the cool water over her hair. She shivered as the water hit her shoulders. Sully hated seeing her cold again, like the night on the trail. Suddenly he stopped pouring, and the room grew silent.
"Sully?" Michaela whispered, suddenly worried by his silence. Just as she was about to open her eyes, she felt a warm sponge caress over collarbone, and move down the side of her arm. He took her hand in his, and cleaned each of her individual fingers tenderly. Then he moved to her face wiping away all the chocolate. A few moments passed, and then she felt his hands in her hair again, a perfumed aroma filling the air as he massaged her head and hair gently. And when he washed her hair out, the water was no longer cold. Still, she kept her eyes closed, as she waited to see what he would do next.
He wrapped a towel around her shoulders and dried out the excess water. Then catching her by surprise, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to her bed. She inhaled sharply when she realized that he had taken off his shirt, but just as she was about to respond, he placed her on the bed, and whispered, "Don't move."
He returned a few moments later. Then she felt it. He was brushing her hair. She leaned back into his touch. How could one man be so selfless and kind and gentle? All of this was for her. And she wanted him.
"Done," he said, stroking her arms once.
"Sully," Michaela turned around, her eyes open. "Stay."