Chapter 16

December 1870 – San Francisco

"I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." Michaela slowly realized what was happening. "Michaela? I gotta ask you a question." She sat up slowly, her eyes brimming with tears at the tone of his voice. Visions of her dream…her nightmare kept coming back. What if she was getting her hopes up?

"Are you really sure you want to ask it?" Sully smiled a little, his eyes full of the confidence he'd gained in the past ten years. He'd spent countless nights thinking about a life with her; trying to get over the fear of losing her. He knew that losing Abagail had been an accident, but he couldn't help but fear the same fate for Michaela. He didn't want to watch her cry herself to sleep at night or turn away from him in her time of need.

He nodded his head in a slow, sure manner, and he sat up, taking her hands in his.

"Sully," she said quickly, "I'm not sure if…well, we've only just found one another again. I don't want you saying anything…in the moment and regretting it later." She searched his eyes, but she saw nothing but certainty in them, as a smile spread across his face, filling her heart with assurance and hope. God, what was wrong with her? How could she be trying to change him after everything they'd gone through? How could she question it? They had found one another, and everything was perfect this way. What could be more perfect than if he were to make all of her dreams come true with a simple question?

"The only thing I regret is leavin' you in Boston that night. I didn't know what else to do. I was scared of hurtin' you." Her hand reached out to touch his cheek, her fingertips tingling, sending a spark through both herself and him.

"You could never hurt me," she whispered, gently caressing the side of his face. "We all do things we regret, sometimes." Sully sighed quietly and kissed the back of her hand.

"I don't wanna regret waitin' too long…I ain't gonna make that mistake again." Michaela smiled, her heart starting to thud inside of her chest. "Michaela…will you marry me?" Tears spilled forth and cascaded down her cheeks. She had lost track of how much she'd cried that night, but thankfully, these were happy tears.

"Sully," she breathed. She quickly wiped away her tears and sniffled. She nodded, as fresh tears seeped onto her lips and down into the sand. "Yes." Without a moment to lose, Sully drew her in again, taking her lips with his own, feeling her tremble against him, as she cried tears of joy. Tears flooded his own eyes, and he didn't dare to open them, as her hands rested against his chest, and he rolled her back into the sand, lying over her, kissing her lips, swelling them with passion, and feeling her push against him gently. When he broke their kiss, she sucked in a sharp breath of air and opened her eyes to look up into his. She grazed her finger across his cheek to wipe away a stray tear. She smiled, and he smiled, and she could feel his kiss again.

She moaned softly, her head spinning from the idea that she was actually engaged. The worst day of her professional career had turned into the best day of her life.

"Michaela," he whispered, finally pulling back a little. He rolled to his side, and she rolled with him. They lie there, facing one another, not able to take their eyes off of their soul mate. "It took us ten years to get here."

"Ten very long years," a breathless Michaela agreed. The rumble of thunder in the distance startled them both. Michaela grinned. "Perhaps that's our warning that we should be going." Sully nodded.

"Maybe," he answered reluctantly. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and held out his hands to her. She grabbed them, and he pulled her up a little too quickly, for she fell right into his arms, and they tumbled back to the ground in laughter. "If we can get back up, I'll walk ya back to your hotel." She nodded almost plaintively. She didn't want to give up this moment; this night.

Their eyes met under the glow of the starlight, and they were soon plunged into darkness as the clouds thickened. Each breath obscured their vision of one another, as puffs of white temporarily invaded the air. The temperature was dropping, and it was time to go. Michaela stood first and held her hand out to Sully. He stood and kept his hand joined with hers, as they walked off of the sandy beach and onto the paved street.

The raindrops began to fall, and Michaela shivered, pulling her coat tightly around her body. Sully's arm reached around her nervously, pulling her close at the waist. Her arm found its way around his broad back and did the same. He bent his head low, talking to her quietly, and any passers by on the street that night would have mistaken them for one person.

They walked for a little while in near silence, savoring the moments they had together. They knew they could never make up for lost time, but this was better than either of them had felt in a very long time.

"I don't want to go back just yet," Michaela admitted. "I feel like we haven't had enough time yet." Sully pulled her closer and looked ahead, seeing an awning jutting out in front of a closed shop. He took his arm off of her, but he grabbed her hand and led her underneath it, moving into the doorway, where the rain couldn't touch them. He pulled her close, holding her in his arms, and her head rested against his chest when the rain began to pour harder onto the streets. She looked up at him, and he smiled down at her. They were both soaked to the bone, shivering with cold, but they were deliriously happy.

The thunder caused Michaela to jump, and they laughed together, pulling each other closer if it was possible.

"Maybe it'll let up soon," he suggested, brushing away the hair that had had been matted to Michaela's forehead by the rain. She shook her head.

"I'm not sure," she replied softly. "We may be stuck here for awhile."

"That ain't so bad," he chuckled, kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes. Feeling the warmth of his lips against her clammy flesh. With a sigh, she nervously brought her arms around his neck. He could feel her apprehension. "It's ok." She nodded. They were away from the safety of their beach; the one place that everything seemed so natural and normal. They couldn't see their star, and they were submerged in the darkness of the night together, so close they could feel the heat of each other's breath.

"I know. It's just…"

"I know," he replied, gently caressing her cheek. He leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead again, and she started to relax, feeling his arms encircle her. She raised her face up, searching for his lips, and capturing them with her own. She couldn't seem to get enough of him, and that frightened her somehow. She'd never felt so strongly about anyone in her entire life, and it was an intoxicating, empowering kind of strength, or weakness perhaps, that raged through her body when they were like this.

His back was against the wall, and he pulled her closer, kissing her and gently urging her to open up to him. When she did, he kissed her slowly but deliberately, letting her know she was all he wanted…all he needed. She gasped softly, as their lips parted for only a moment, and she was pulled back under, drowning in his closeness, in his scent; in the way his arms felt around her body.

He still couldn't believe she was there in his arms. Not even an hour ago had he even known she was in San Francisco. The sound of a soft moan escaping his own throat sent his mind into a tailspin. He felt her shudder against him, and he knew they couldn't continue. When they were together, it seemed that it only took a little push to send them spiraling out of control.

He gently pushed on her shoulders, and they broke apart, struggling for breath. Michaela's cheeks flushed furiously with embarrassment, and Sully gently stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I just missed ya so much." Michaela nodded.

"You don't have to be sorry," she whispered. "Just tell me this isn't a dream. Tell me this is really happening." Sully smiled, leaning his forehead against hers.

"It's really happenin'," he assured her. "We're getting married. And, I'm gonna get you the nicest ring in San Francisco."

"No you're not," Michaela laughed, wide-eyed. "I don't need a ring." Sully glanced at her, raising his eyebrow.

"I don't buy that. Every lady wants an engagement ring."

"Sully, I don't want you spending more than you can afford." Sully smiled a little.

"I got more than enough," he promised. "The last cattle drive paid good money." Michaela smiled.

"Well, it's up to you," she grinned, "but I'm just happy you're here. That's all that matters." Sully knew that deep down, she wanted a ring, but she'd never admit it. He knew how much a ring meant to her. It symbolized the promises they were going to make to one another. That's exactly what he intended to do: promise to love her and to be by her side for the rest of their lives.

The rain started to let up, and after a quick kiss, Sully led Michaela out onto the sidewalk. Within a matter of minutes, the sprinkling rain was gone, and it was time for them to go.

"Which hotel are you stayin' at?" Sully asked. Michaela grinned and pointed to the hotel that she'd been staying at ten years ago. Sully's face turned pale for a moment, before a sheepish smile spread over his face.

"You too?" he laughed.

"What!" Michaela's eyes lit up, and she started to laugh. "You're staying there?"

"Room 415," he pointed out. Michaela shook her head.

"I can't believe we missed each other. I'm in 427." Michaela sighed softly. Her eyes looked into his, seeing the endless, ocean-blue pools staring back at her, making her heart melt and her knees weaken. She sighed softly and shook her head. "I don't want to sleep tonight. I don't want this night to end just yet. It's so overwhelming, and…I don't want to wake up tomorrow and wonder if it was all a dream."

"Me either." He swallowed hard. "Let's stay up…all night. We can always sleep tomorrow." Michaela giggled at his suggestion, and she shook her head.

"Do you really think we could stay up all night long?" She felt like a young girl again; one who was about to defy her parents' wishes and break her curfew. But then again, she'd never had such a wonderful time as a young girl. She'd been too busy studying. Right now, she wanted to enjoy herself with the man she loved.

"I ain't tired," he pointed out.

"Neither am I," she admitted.

"Well, it stopped rainin', but we're still soaked. Whaddya say we go get changed and take a walk?" Michaela nodded slowly.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. She and Sully walked into the hotel, hand in hand and retreated to their separate hotel rooms, finding the few minutes of separation to be almost unbearable after such a wonderful evening.

December 1870 – Denver

"You warm enough?" Daniel asked, as he and Carrie strolled down the street after dinner. The hour was growing late, but they were both enjoying themselves too much to turn in yet.

"I'm fine," Carrie noted, crossing her arms against her chest as they walked. Daniel stuck his hand in his pocket, clearing his throat. She turned her eyes up at him for a moment, and she grinned at the uncomfortable look in his eyes. His forehead was crinkled in worry, and his lips were pursed together in thought. She couldn't help but giggle. Giggle…had she every giggled before?

"What's so funny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He took his hat off, ran his fingers through his sandy brown waves of hair and placed the hat back on top of his head. Carrie grinned and shook her head.

"Nothin'."

"Tell me," he said quietly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and turning toward her. Carrie shivered under that cool, sweet gaze. Crimson threatened her sun-stained cheeks. Had she ever blushed before? She couldn't remember a time when a man made her blush. Most men made her stomach turn and her body respond to what they wanted it to respond to. She'd hated herself for that. She'd never admit it, but she had.

"There's nothin' to tell," she replied quickly.

"That's fine. Don't tell me," he teased, walking on. She furrowed her brows and finally started after him to catch up. She did it easily in four quick strides.

"You don't really treat all the ladies like this, do you?" she asked, skirting around the issue.

"Like what? Talkin' to 'em? Askin' questions?" He had thought he had been a pretty decent gentleman that evening. He couldn't figure out anything wrong with the way he'd acted.

"I get all dressed up, and ya don't say nothin'," she replied, her gaze challenging his.

"I said somethin'," he pointed out. She rolled her eyes.

"Lemme see if I get this right." She cleared her throat. "'I didn't recognize ya without them dirty clothes and a whiskey bottle in your hand.'" Daniel smirked.

"Then ya hit me."

"You deserved it!" she replied hotly. He saw the grin appearing on her face, and she quickly turned away.

"Well, if I didn't say it, ya look real nice tonight," he said quietly. "Gotta admit that I was getting used to seein' ya in your cattle drivin' clothes. Either way suits ya just fine." Carrie's eyes widened at his words, and she shivered violently in her coat and turned on her heels.

"I think it's time to get headin' to the hotel," she said quietly. "Don't get no ideas, Cowboy." She hurried off, and he rushed to keep up with her. Something in the pit of his stomach told him that he'd be doing that for a long while.

December 1870 – Colorado Springs

Charlotte Cooper sighed heavily, as she mended some of Brian's already-patched trousers. It seemed that he had a new rip or snag in them each time he took them off at the end of the day.

"Ma? I got the beds all made with clean linens and blankets," Colleen announced, coming down the stairs of the boarding house. Charlotte smiled warmly and tiredly.

"Thanks darlin'," she said quietly, placing her hand on her chest. Colleen knew her mother hadn't been feeling like herself for quite a while, and it pained her to see her go through whatever it was she was going through. They didn't have the money to go to a doctor in Denver, and they hadn't received anything from Ethan since before the divorce was finalized. She was still Widow Cooper to the town, and she felt grateful that most of them were accepting of her, despite the fact that her husband had up and left her with three children to take care of so long ago.

"Ma?"

"I'm fine, Colleen," Charlotte responded. "Go in the kitchen. I packed some food for Matthew and Ingrid. There's some toys for the baby too. Would you mind takin' it to Matthew at the livery 'fore they head home?" Colleen shuffled uncertainly for a second.

"Sure, Ma. I'm gonna have Brian come in and sit with ya." Before Charlotte could protest and say she was fine again, Colleen was rushing off to do her mother's bidding. Not even a minute later, the side door opened with a knock, and Mayor Jake Slicker came walking in, sober for once, and he took off his hat to show respect.

"Jake," Charlotte said with a smile. "What brings you over here?" He shifted uncomfortably and closed the door. He moved a rickety chair across the room and sat down across from Charlotte.

"I just wanted to tell ya that the the man on the stage came to fix the telegraph…Just got word that the lady doctor got a job at some fancy hospital in San Francisco." The men in town hadn't wanted to accept a woman doctor, but she seemed to have been a likely choice, because nobody else was interested. After much debate, they'd finally sent her a telegram, and had only early that day received word that she'd accepted a different job.

"Oh," Charlotte said quietly, lowering her eyes in disappointment. It seemed that Michaela Quinn, whoever she was, had been their last hope. Ever other doctor had thought it best to stay clear of their town; a place with many opportunities but very little money.

"We'll keep tryin'," he said, his voice uncertain and wavering. "She said she'd already agreed to the California job. Otherwise, she'd have took it." Charlotte nodded sadly.

"Thanks for lettin' me know, Jake." Charlotte sighed heavily and put her patchwork down. "I think I'll go over and check on…"

"Just came from the mercantile," Jake replied. "You just rest."

"I ain't dyin' yet," Charlotte scolded, but her eyes were too warm to be threatening. Jake stood awkwardly.

"I'll see ya Sunday, Charlotte. You just rest, and we'll see 'bout getting another doctor." Jake left quickly, taking Charlotte's hope out the door with him. He suddenly felt the burning in his belly; the urge for a whiskey straight. He looked toward the saloon to see Hank's doors closed. He was probably watering down the expensive stuff, which was odd for a night like this. But, most of the townsfolk had shut up their homes for the night, with the exception of a few, who were still waiting for their rowdy boys to come home. The people outside of town usually stocked up before the snow hit, and business for Hank thinned out until the warmer months.

His hand trembled at the thought of a cold glass with warm whiskey, and when he looked over toward the churchyard, he could see her grave marker, and it was as if the moonlight was shining down on it. He hadn't visited their graves in months. On the tenth anniversary of her death, he had buried the spelling book that Abagail had taught him to read with. He'd buried it right beside her grave, and he'd placed wild flowers-the only ones he could find in October-on her grave to pay tribute to one of the most patient women he'd ever known.

A few children ran by, throwing snow at one another. One handful of snow smacked Jake right in the back, and he turned around to see two bright eyed little boys stifle their laughter and run for cover behind the mercantile. He shook his head and looked up at the sky. Abagail would have loved a night like this. The sky was blue, the ground was white, and all of the town's children were laughing and playing without a care in the world. He wished he'd had that much fun as a child, but unfortunately, his father had run out before he could walk, and his mother had been quick to use the belt, the only thing his father left behind for them to remember him by.

He sighed heavily and looked toward the saloon again.

"The Hell with it," he spat under his breath. He shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets and hurried over to the saloon for a drink to warm his belly.

December 1870 – San Francisco

Michaela and Sully leaned on one another in the carriage, as they rode toward the hotel at sunrise. They'd spent the entire night talking. Michaela had told him all about her cases and the goings on in her family since he'd left. Sully told her about the cattle drive and Carrie, despite the fact that his head told him not to. He hated keeping things from her, and he felt that getting everything out would be best. He was grateful that Michaela wasn't upset with him for what had happened. It had been out of his control, and she knew he loved her. She was just grateful he was there with her now and that his heart was with her.

"We're almost back to the hotel," Sully said quietly, stifling a yawn. When he didn't receive an answer, he realized she had fallen asleep. He felt like he could go to sleep and sleep until midnight. He was exhausted, but he was comforted with his future wife in his arms. He could hear her breathing and see the soft puffs of white that lingered in the air with each breath she let out. He took the time at that moment to reach into his pocket and pull out a small black box…one he'd kept hidden all through the night.

uckily, a jeweler kept his shop just down the road from the hotel, and while Michaela was changing clothes the night before, he had snuck out and convinced the shopkeeper to let him pick out the perfect ring to surprise his love with.

Keeping it a secret hadn't been easy, but he wanted to surprise her. So, he took her pale, white hand in his, as she slept against him, and he placed the box in her hand. She stirred only slightly, and Sully leaned back, taking in the sights of the pre-dawn San Francisco streets.

When the carriage turned down a street of cobblestones, Michaela jolted awake, feeling the change of surface underneath them. She clenched her fists, but found one hand was being particularly difficult. She could feel his warm arms around her, and she smiled, looking up at him.

"Mornin'."

"How long was I asleep?" she asked.

"Just a few minutes. We're almost back to the hotel." Michaela nodded and yawned, sitting up. She then noticed that her hand contained something foreign and unfamiliar. She looked down, letting her eyes focus on the soft, black box that her fingers were wrapped securely around. "Open it."

"Sully?" She swallowed hard, and she looked up into his eyes. "When?"

"I got my ways," he replied, softly kissing her cheek and caressing that same spot with the back of his hand. "Go on. Open it." Michaela blushed, and she bit her bottom lip, something he loved about her. Her fingers gently pried the box open, and her lips trembled at the sight of it. A simple gold band held a small but elegant diamond…one that seemed to shine as brightly as the North Star.

"Sully," she breathed. "It's…it's beautiful!"

"I thought ya might like it."

"It's perfect!" She grinned happily, and Sully leaned down, pressing his lips lovingly against hers.

"'Course it is. It's your ring." He cleared his throat. "I guessed on the size. I hope it's right." Michaela placed the ring in his hand, and she smiled, waiting. He took it between his thumb and forefinger, gently kissing the diamond. A moment later, he was sliding it onto Michaela's finger. "Perfect fit." She sighed softly and kissed him.

"Thank you, Sully." The tears started to ebb, but Sully pulled her close and held her, linking her fingers through his, celebrating their impending union. "I love you so much."