Chapter 6

September 1870 – Boston

She was still sitting on the floor of the parlor, the perfect candidate for a still oil painting, when Elizabeth arrived home. She was soaking wet, and she didn't even notice her daughter's presence. She immediately started up the stairs, bellowing for Rose to help her change.

Her mother's arrival had convinced Michaela to pick up the remains of her picnic lunch with Sully and carry them off to the kitchen. It was quiet in there, but the aroma of Rose's delicious cooking emanated from various sections of the room.

With a heavy sigh, she started washing the dishes, knowing perfectly well that she could leave them for Rose. But, she needed to keep busy. She needed that more than anything at the moment. Her heart was just as confused as her head. She was afraid to know what she was actually supposed to feel; what she wanted to feel. What would she do or say when she saw him again? Maybe that was what frightened her the most.

The sound of thunder made her jump, while the lightning lit up the room for a few moments. Tonight, she preferred the darkness of the kitchen. There, she could be alone and think things over. The only problem was that she was trying not to think about it. She couldn't get that kiss off of her mind; the feel of it off of her lips. Such a kiss was intended for those who loved one another and those who intended to get married. She didn't love Sully like that…did she?

When the dishes were dried and put away, she could hear Rose coming in to dirty more dishes. That poor woman worked her fingers to the bone in that kitchen, so Michaela felt a little better in knowing that she'd done something nice for someone who worked so hard to please the family.

Not wanting to be seen, Michaela slipped up the back stairs, and the darkness surrounded her. She could feel the cold, eerie presence she often felt on those stairs, but tonight, it was a comfort. She sat down on the top step and peered into the dimly lit hallway. She could barely see Sully's bedroom door. It was shut tightly, but she could see the glow of a lamp floating out from the door, starkly contrasting against the dark floor. She wanted to go to him and talk it out. She wanted to, but something was different. She was afraid to face him. He was her best friend, and she was afraid to look him in the eye. She couldn't understand why. Would he see how she truly felt? She didn't even know how she felt. How could he see something that she didn't?

She sighed heavily and stood, slowly tiptoeing toward her bedroom. She paused at his door for a moment, her heart wrenching with grief. She wanted to comfort him, but she wasn't certain that was such a good idea. It had gotten so out of control, and that couldn't happen again.

October 1860 – San Francisco

Sully watched her as she walked out of the hotel, her pale blue dress shimmering under the afternoon sun. The lace around her neck and wrists seemed to choke her, but she looked comfortable enough. Sully couldn't help but watch her, as she looked around; searching for someone. Him? He caught himself smiling, as he watched her hair blow in the breeze and her eyes squint into the sunlight. She'd left part of her hair down and had managed to make her it look more beautiful than the night before. He couldn't get over how stunning this creature was, and the immediate thought sent waves of guilt through his body.

His heart jumped when she turned around, seemingly heading back toward the doors of the hotel. He didn't want her to go. It was his day off, and he wanted to see her. He wanted to talk with her. Perhaps she was feeling better. He had been until those thoughts had possessed his mind, and he'd felt the guilt lying as heavy as a brick in the pit of his stomach.

Michaela felt someone watching her, and when she turned back around, she saw those miraculous blue eyes staring at her. She trembled unknowingly, and she gave a nervous smile in his direction. She flicked her hand in a wave and started walking over.

"Sully," she said with a nod. "Good afternoon."

"Afternoon," he said awkwardly, swallowing the giant lump in his throat; swallowing the grief and those initial thoughts. There it was again. She saw that sadness in his eyes, and she wanted to know everything about him. She'd never been so intrigued by anyone in her entire life. "Where ya headin'?"

"I was about to take a stroll on the beach."

"Ya ain't gonna get lost again, are ya?" Michaela's cheeks flushed, and she shook her head.

"Of course not."

"Good, 'cause the North Star ain't out in the sunlight." Michaela laughed a little. She started to walk away, nervously biting her lip. When he called out to her, she couldn't deny the happiness that flooded her soul. "I know this place pretty well. I could show ya around." She turned slowly.

"Don't you have to work?"

"Naw. This is my day off," he replied, silently cursing to himself for being so nice. He wished he could just brush her off and let her do what she wanted. He couldn't deny the fact that she made him feel things he'd never felt before. He could at least get her out of his head, couldn't he? Perhaps she wouldn't want a guide. That was his only chance of getting out of it. He felt that he needed to, but he didn't want to. She fascinated him.

"Well, I would like the company then. Thank you for the offer," she said, her smile sparkling as brightly as her eyes. He lost himself there, drowning in pools of serene olive and amber. The different flecks of color hypnotized him, and as if he was in a trance, he began to follow. She seemed so shy and small, yet when he looked into those glowing orbs she called eyes, he saw such strength and life and fire there. He'd never seen anything like it in anybody before.

"Sully?"

"Hmm?"

"You're awfully quiet. Last night, you wouldn't stop talking." Sully rolled his eyes.

"I think you were the one who wouldn't stop talkin'." Michaela laughed at the silliness of the conversation.

"Well, I suppose we were both a little talkative last night." She sighed quietly and comfortably walked alongside him. He was so easy to be with, which surprised her.

She smiled, looking at him. His hair was long, not quite past his shoulders, and his face was so firm and serious looking, though his soft lips and gentle eyes gave him the softness that she already knew was in his heart.

They walked silently, until they reached the beach. Several young couples were holding hands, enjoying the waves lapping at their feet. Michaela pulled her shoes off and held them in her hands, and he laughed, thinking of the night before.

"You always take your shoes off to walk in the sand?" She eyed him.

"Why not? Is that funny to you?"

"No," he replied quickly. "I just don't know many girls that'd bother to take their shoes off just to get their feet dirty."

"I don't go to the beach very often," Michaela pointed out. "At home, I'm far too busy."

"Becomin' a doctor."

"Yes," she blushed, "so when I do get to see the ocean and the sand, I like to feel it, smell it…take it all in. It's a wonderful experience." Sully nodded.

"I was born out there." Michaela pointed at the ocean.

"Out there?" Sully shook his head.

"Not this ocean. I was born between New York and England." Michaela's eyes sparkled with fascination. They began a slow, steady walk down the beach, and Michaela moved closer to him. "My pa got cholera before we made it to America. He died 'fore he got to see me. My ma had me a few days later."

"That's awful," she breathed. "You never knew your father…"

"Ma said he was a good man. 'Said I reminded her of him. But I was too little then. I guess she just hoped I'd grow up to be like him."

"Where's your mother?" Sully's eyes grew dark, almost gray.

"She died a long time ago." Michaela's lip quivered, and she looked out toward the horizon.

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right." The tone of his voice made her shiver. It sounded as if he'd been dealing with things like this all of his life. She couldn't imagine life without her mother and father. Sure, they were both difficult sometimes, but she loved them both dearly. She wouldn't be the same person she was if it wasn't for them. "So why ain't ya with your family this afternoon?"

"Oh, my father is in a conference, and Mother insisted on going to a show," she said quietly.

"Why didn't ya go with her?"

"I felt like being alone," she replied. "Sometimes it's nice to get away from everything."

"I know how ya feel." Michaela turned toward him but kept walking. "Ya said your ma keeps getting in your business."

"I think she's always been there," Michaela admitted. "She thinks I'm not capable of finding a husband on my own."

"I'm sure she don't think that," he replied awkwardly. Michaela let out an amused chuckle.

"She always invites men to dinner…thinking I'm going to fall head over heels for them. She doesn't realize that I don't want to marry just to be married." Sully nodded quietly. "Perhaps that's what it was for her, but I don't want to marry someone I don't love." She flushed boldly. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you this." He chuckled a little, relieved that he didn't have to focus on his own problems at the moment.

"No. You're fine. I just…I don't mind."

"Yes you do," she laughed. "Nobody ever asks me about my family. You're the first man who's ever seemed remotely interested. Most of the time, the suitors my mother invites talk about themselves the entire time, not letting me get a word in edgewise." Again, she blushed, hearing the words in her head after she'd spoken them. But, it didn't seem to cause a strong reaction in him. She was thankful.

"People who talk too much usually don't have much to say." Michaela grinned. She liked his reasoning, and he was very right. She eyed him.

"You don't talk much, do you?" He only glanced at her, and they both grinned.

"I talk when I feel like it," he replied. "I learned a long time ago…to keep my mouth shut, 'cause most people ain't willin' to hear what ya have to say." Michaela frowned.

"I'd like to believe that isn't true, but unfortunately, I know what you mean. My father, and perhaps one of his colleagues, Dr. Jonathan Webber…they supported me. Everyone else…" Sully's mind was elsewhere now. Jonathan. John. Johnny. The name sent him into an internal tailspin, and Michaela recognized it. "Sully? Is everything…"

"Go on. I just…thought of somethin' I need to do later." Michaela didn't buy that, but she knew he didn't want to talk about it, whatever it was. "Tell me about…"

"About what?"

"Anything."

"What would you like to know?" Sully sighed and looked toward the ocean.

"Anything you wanna tell me. You don't have to tell me anything if ya don't want to." Michaela couldn't help but grin, turning her head so he wouldn't see. He glanced at her, seeing her youth and innocence. He admired her. She had her entire life ahead of her, yet his entire life…was behind him. Twenty years old, and he already felt as if he was nearing the end of his life…the end of his journey. But, seeing her shined some light on the prospect of a future. He couldn't feel this way forever, could he?

September 1870 – Boston

His hand wrapped around the cold band, and he pulled at the chain, removing it from his neck for the first time since the day she'd given it to him to wear on his journey. The cold burned his flesh; the memories added fuel to the flames of guilt and agony that surged through his veins.

With one swift motion, he broke the chain around his neck, and he pulled the metal into his hands. He could see the reflection of the flames in it. He could hear the wood crackling and popping, as the fire created mysterious shadows on the walls, twisting and turning like spineless souls, reaching up toward a salvation that would fizzle and fade before they touched the top.

He closed his eyes, seeing her face and trying to get rid of the pain. But, her face brought more pain…a different kind of pain.

"I can't do this," he breathed. "Not to you. You deserve better." He turned toward the flaming pit of fire and looked back down into the palm of his hand. He could still feel the warmth of an innocent finger; an innocent life than he'd promised himself to forever.

When his hand finally let go of the chain that danced around the golden ring, it fell into the fire, screaming and glowing and begging him. Memories, dreams, happiness, love, life. Everything reflected in that tiny, delicate piece of unity. It was mesmerizing to watch, and long after the flames stopped their torture, Sully sat there watching his life sit on the log like a bump…and it was now one with the ashes.

December 1855

"What're you doin'?" Sully asked suspiciously, eyeing Daniel. Daniel was whittling a piece of wood, as he sat by the fire. He and Sully had taken odd jobs around town and had been able to afford a room at Charlotte Cooper's boarding house. She had taken her children to Manitou for Christmas to visit a distant cousin, and she had left Sully and Daniel in charge of the place while she was gone. Most said she was crazy for letting two young bucks like those two take care of her home, but she knew she could trust them. She saw something in them that even they couldn't see yet.

"I'm whittlin'. What's it look like?" Daniel replied, not looking up at Sully.

"Ya don't whittle unless somethin's on your mind. What's goin' on?"

"Nothin'," Daniel replied, turning toward the fire a little. Sully sighed heavily and moved toward the window. The snow was coming down in sheets, and he could hear music coming from the church. Abby was there. He'd seen her earlier at the mercantile. She was adorned in a white and blue dress, and her black hair was done up in matching ribbons. She'd been a vision, and if he believed in angels, she surely would have been one. "Thinkin' 'bout Abby?" Sully said nothing. "She's a real pretty girl. Mr. Bray likes ya, even if he don't act like it. Ya got a shot, there."

"Ya don't know what you're talkin' about," Sully pointed out.

"But you two are courtin'," Daniel reminded him. "Least that's what folks in town are sayin'. They say that as soon as Abby gets out of school, you're gonna marry her." Sully looked out the window again. "Well? Are ya?"

"Am I what?"

"Gonna marry her?" Sully wasn't sure how to respond to that. He and Abagail had been inseparable for the past few months, and they were already talking about the future. They were so young, yet Sully knew that this was it. He knew he wasn't good enough, but she loved him. He felt selfish. Someone else could give her the world, but he could give her what was in his heart. "Fine. Ya don't gotta tell me. I am only your best friend, after all."

"I'm goin' out."

"To church?" Sully shook his head. He didn't care much for church. He didn't really appreciate people telling him what he should believe in and chastising him for wanting to have a choice.

"To see Cloud Dancin'?"

"No. I'm just gonna walk."

"Want me to come?"

"No," Sully replied. Daniel chuckled.

"Well, tell Abby I said 'hi.'" Sully wanted to glare at his friend, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He pulled his coat on and walked outside, shutting the door firmly behind himself. He looked up, seeing the dark sky clouded over, as the snow flittered down and landed on his warm skin, melting right away. He could hear the Christmas carols and the laughter of the children. He swore he could hear her voice above everything.

"Sully?" Sully turned sharply at her voice. Abagail was walking up behind him, her cheeks flushed with red from the cold.

"Abby? What're ya doin' out here? It's freezin'."

"I needed some fresh air," she replied. "What about you?"

"Yeah," he replied. He pulled his arm around her, and they walked over toward the mercantile. Once there, Abby let them both inside and closed out the cold behind them. She led him over toward the wood stove and helped him with his coat. "Ain't your ma and pa lookin' for ya?"

"No. They'll be at the Christmas service all night," she replied. "As far as they're concerned, the fun's just beginnin'." She shook her head. "I guess I grew out of Christmas carols a long time ago."She looked around quietly. "Do ya want somethin' to drink? To eat? Ma has leftovers…"

"I'm fine. I should probably be goin'."

"What's the matter, Sully?" She looked into his eyes, searching his expression, but she came up empty. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I just…I been doin' some thinkin'."

"About what?" Sully swallowed hard. How could this be so utterly difficult? Three little words were all she needed to hear; all he needed to say.

"Abby…I…" At that moment, the door to the stove opened, and cinders flew out, scorching the floors, burning traces of them forever.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, quickly moving for the broom and a pan. Sully helped her clean up the mess, and he closed the door to the stove.

"Ya okay?"

"I'm fine. The stove does that sometimes. I don't think I shut the door all the way. Pa always scolds me…tells me I should pay more attention." Sully smiled a little.

"He's just watchin' after ya." She nodded, brushing her hands on a towel.

"So what have ya been thinkin' about?"

"You," he finally blurted out. She smiled.

"Me?"

"Yeah…I just…well, we've been doin' some talkin' about…about lots of things." Abagail situated herself across from him, a smile broadening across her face.

"Yes?"

"Well, we just…we never…said…" Abby raised an eyebrow. She knew what was coming, and she couldn't have been more ready for it.

"Sully…you can…you don't have to."

"I want to. I…I ain't good with sayin' what I feel…"

"Take your time." He studied her, watching her eyes twinkle in anticipation. How could he keep her waiting? He knew what he wanted, and that was her. She was his life now, and he wanted to let her know that. So, he cupped her face in his hands and drew her into a soft kiss, afraid of feeling her pull back. But, she didn't. She kissed him back, but he could feel her holding out. He knew she was afraid of him in some ways, yet in others, she felt completely at ease. And, when he pulled back, he stared into those shimmering brown orbs and parted his lips to speak.

"I love you." Her eyes glittered with tears, and she pulled her arms around his neck.

"I love you too," she whispered, holding him tightly. Their lips met again, and the rest of their lives were set in motion.