Title: Splintered (2/?)

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to have any rights to the characters or plots of DQMW. The following is purely for entertainment value and of no monetary value whatsoever

Summary: He pressed his face to his knees and wondered how everything could have gone so wrong, so quickly.

Chapter Two

Michaela looked around the clinic and sighed. A light patient schedule that day had left her with too much time on her hands – too much time to think and worry. Two days had come and gone since she had sought out Sully. Two days since a word or look had passed between them. She glanced down at the patient chart on her desk and tried to lose herself in work. Unable to focus for more than a few seconds at a time, she abandoned the chart and rose to her feet. Pacing around the small room, she expended a little nervous energy by organizing her medical books, first alphabetically by author and then by order of subject. When she began to rearrange them again – this time in height order – she realized that her behavior was bordering on the ridiculous.

Resolutely turning away from the bookshelf, she wandered toward the window. Pushing back the curtain, she stared listlessly at the busy comings and goings of the townsfolk. A flash of movement caught her eye and her heart leapt into her throat as Wolf pranced into view. Her gaze settled hungrily on Sully as he approached a pace or two behind his companion. He looked up as he neared the clinic and their gazes met. Michaela lifted one hand in a tentative greeting and a hopeful smile curved her lips. He stared at her for a long moment and her stomach clutched on a knot of fear when she saw his shoulders rise and fall on a long sigh. He glanced over his shoulder and she wondered if he was assessing his chances of escape, but in the next moment he moved toward the clinic porch. Michaela wiped suddenly damp hands against her apron.

"Hello, Sully," she greeted as he stepped inside.

"Michaela." His voice was a quiet rumble of sound which left her with no clue as to what he was thinking or feeling. An awkward silence fell between them and she folded her hands in an effort to still their nervous fidgeting.

"I've missed you," she finally offered.

He bobbed his head in assent.

"Been busy," he grunted with a quick shrug of his shoulders. Again they were plunged into an unnatural stillness and they both cast their eyes about the room as if seeking distraction.

"Will you come for supper?" she blurted desperately.

He hesitated then dragged his gaze from his seemingly enraptured study of the wood floor.

"Usual time?"

Perhaps she was being overly sensitive but, unsure if his blunt tone was an indication of anger or just his usual forthright manner of speaking; she blinked and gave him a silent nod.

"I'll be there." And inclining his head politely, he left the building.

Michael turned again toward the window and watched as he stepped into the street. Patting his leg in a signal for Wolf to join him, he walked toward the livery. And though she silently willed him to look back, he disappeared around a corner without even a glance over his shoulder. Dispirited, she let the curtain fall back into place and returned to her desk. She made a pretense of returning to her review of her patients' charts, but in truth spent the rest of the afternoon dissecting every moment of their encounter.

Perhaps she was reading too much into things, she consoled herself, though a tiny voice in her head whispered otherwise. She faced the prospect of seeing him again that evening with a combination of dread and anticipation.

xxxxxx

A knock on the door had Brian leaping from his seat. "It's Sully!" he shouted as raced across the room.

Michaela watched as Colleen and Matthew joined their brother at the door. Sully stood on the threshold surrounded by the children. Their buoyant welcome was one befitting a conquering hero and she supposed in their eyes he was just that. For David was gone and Sully remained. She knew they saw him as triumphant and believed things would simply return to the way they had been.

She prayed they were right.

As she watched Sully with the children, she waited for him to look her way. Touching a finger to her hair, she admitted privately that she had fussed with her appearance before his arrival. Her flower-sprigged blouse had an open collar leaving the long, white column of her throat bare and fragrant with the lavender water she had dabbed on her pulse points and behind her ears. The smallness of her waist was emphasized by an intricately braided belt given to her by Sully. It was a piece she treasured for she liked to imagine his big, calloused hands weaving the leather into a design so delicate and feminine. Her hair was pulled in a loose tail which lay over her breast, secured near the end with a leather cord. It was a style she often adopted for practical purposes as it tethered the waving mass of her hair without making her appear too severe to others.

But more to the point, she knew that Sully had shown an unspoken preference for that style. She had noted long ago that he seemed unable to keep his hands away from her hair when it was arranged in this fashion. In public places – seated at the café or standing in the street near the clinic – he would often reach out and unconsciously toy with the ends of her hair, fingers playfully plucking at the leather thong while they spoke. And in private… She sighed. Oh, in private, he liked to coil the thick tail of hair around his hand, using it to hold her a willing captive to his kisses.

She hoped to evoke a similar reaction this evening.

"You're right in time," she said with a shy smile. "Won't you please sit down?"

Brian grabbed Sully's hand and led him ceremoniously to the chair at one end of the table. It was obvious that the boy took great pleasure in seeing Sully take up what Brian deemed the older man's rightful place at their table and in their lives.

Michaela carried a serving bowl to the table and ladled a generous portion of beef stew onto Sully's plate.

"Would you please slice the bread?" She nodded toward the cloth-wrapped loaf near his plate and continued around, serving the children before taking her own seat at the other end of the table.

She was grateful for the children's presence. Their obvious joy and relief at having Sully back was evident in their cheerful chatter which had been missing at mealtimes of late. Sully spoke easily with them about school and work and though he seemed focused on the children, she was aware that his gaze fell on her time and again throughout the meal. By the time she served dessert she was feeling much less anxious than she had before his arrival.

"I'm glad yer back, Sully," Brian happily declared as he dug into his dessert. "I didn't like the fancy meals Ma was always tryin' to make when David was here," he confessed with a sour look on his face. "But she's gotten pretty good at makin' the stuff you like," he said around a mouth full of food.

"Brian!" Michaela exclaimed as her cheeks flamed.

"Sorry, Ma." The boy swallowed hastily. "I know. I know. I shouldn't talk with my mouth full." He was oblivious to the true reason for her exclamation. Sending her an angelic smile, he propped his chin on his fist and returned his attention to Sully.

"How come you stopped comin' to supper? Was it 'cause David was always sittin' in your chair?" he asked with a candor afforded only to the very young – or the very old. He popped the last bit of his dessert into his mouth and gave Sully an expectant look.

Sully blinked in surprise at the question while Michaela let out a barely audible groan and hid her eyes behind her fingers. Matthew cuffed his hand lightly against the back of Brian's head.

"What?" the child asked indignantly. "I was just wonderin' if – mmfff!"

Colleen's hand shot out to cover her younger brother's mouth and she and Matthew surged to their feet. Making hasty and transparent excuses about the lateness of the hour, they dragged Brian away from the table. Their whispered admonishments could be heard from behind the curtain which separated the sleeping area from the rest of the cabin.

Mortified, Michaela busied herself with cleaning up after dinner. She plunged dirty cups and utensils into a basin of soapy water. Her shoulders sagged with defeat when she heard Sully scrape his chair back and she braced herself in anticipation of his leaving. She was surprised when he appeared at her side, the rest of the dirty plates in his hands. She took them from him with a hesitant smile.

"Would you like some more coffee?" she drummed up her courage to ask. "We could take it out on the porch…"

"Sure." He reached out to put the dirty dishes into the basin and brushed against her in the process. Dropping the dishes into the soapy water with a clatter, he took a hasty step back. Retreating to the table, he grabbed his coffee.

Michaela closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Turning, she pasted a confident smile on her face. "Shall we?" she asked as she picked up her own coffee cup.

Sully held the door open and she preceded him out onto the porch. Following, he began to pull the door closed behind him, but feeling the coolness of the air now that the sun had set, he reached back inside to tug her shawl from a peg on the wall. He took up his seat beside her on the top step.

"Thought ya might want this." He held out the woven shawl.

"It is a little chilly," Michaela agreed. Buoyed by his show of concern, she looked up at him with an expectant and grateful smile.

He set down his coffee and draped the shawl around her shoulders. Withdrawing quickly, he picked up his cup and took a hasty gulp, wincing as the hot liquid burned his tongue. Her disappointment that he had not taken her broad hint and wrapped his arms around her instead of the shawl was evident in the drooping of her smile.

Sully began to think that it had been a bad idea to accept her invitation to supper. He looked up into the night sky and remembered all the times they had peacefully enjoyed sitting together beneath the canopy of stars. Never a talkative man, even he fidgeted uncomfortably beneath the weight of the crushing tension between them.

"Was Brian right?" Sully turned his head at the hesitant sound of her voice. "Because I never meant for you to feel unwelcome."

He shot her an incredulous look.

"Please talk to me, Sully," she implored. "We'll never get through this if we don't discuss it."

He shook his head and huffed out a bitter laugh. "You can't possibly think that I wanted t'watch the woman I love entertaining another man in my own homestead." he said disbelievingly. "This is your home, Michaela, and yer welcome to have any guests you like, but do you really think I wanted to sit here while you courted another man under the very roof I built?"

"It wasn't like that."

"It was exactly like that!" he shot back. "What else would you call it but 'courtin'?" he asked. "I remember you told me once before that David would come to your house for supper when you were courtin' in Boston. That you would talk about yer cases," he reminded her. "You told me that courtin's a time to get to know the other person. Ain't that what you were doin' with David these last weeks? All those times you took him with you on your rounds or took walks together or tried to cook a fancy meal for him? Weren't ya getting' to know him again?"

She hunched her shoulders against the weight of his bitter recriminations and lashed out defensively.

"Your presence may have been scarce of late," she noted haughtily. "But it's obvious that you were intimately familiar with my comings and goings! Were you spying on me?"

A dark look settled over his features. "You didn't make no secret 'bout the time you spent with him," he noted. "And it seems some folks liked nothin' better than t'make sure I knew where you were and who you were with all the time."

"I'm sorry." No sooner had the words flown from her mouth than she wished them back. She looked at him beseechingly. "I am so sorry." She wanted to reach for him but held back, knowing instinctively that her touch would not be welcome. Drawing the shawl more tightly about her, she raised her face to the heavens.

"I wish I could make you understand," she murmured as she stared up at the star-speckled sky. "I was so confused."

"I know." He drew his feet up and hooked his heels onto the top step, resting his forehead against his updrawn knees. "I know you were confused, Michaela." His voice was muffled against his knees. "But knowing you were confused don't make me feel any better. 'Cause when you say 'confused', I hear 'in love with another man'."

She couldn't deny it, for she had already admitted that a part of her would always love David. Just as a part of Sully still loved Abagail…

"Imagine if Abagail had returned." She latched onto the comparison in the hopes of helping him understand what she had been grappling with. Dropping her gaze from the night sky, she looked toward him and was stunned by the expression on his face. His pupils were dilated and a flush of anger rode high on his cheeks.

"Don't!" he snarled. "Don't you dare speak her name in the same breath as his!"

She recoiled from the rage simmering in his voice and he immediately subsided.

"I'm sorry." He tiredly ground the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. "I didn't mean t'frighten you, Michaela," he said dully. "You don't ever gotta be afraid of me. You know that. Right?" he asked beseechingly.

She breathed out a sigh and relaxed. "I know," she said. "I was just surprised. But Sully, don't you see?" she asked, eager again to make her point. "I thought David was dead and I finally had let him go – as you did with Abagail – and made the decision to move on with my life with you and then suddenly –"

"But he wasn't dead, was he?" Sully interrupted harshly. "It's not the same thing at all. Abagail didn't choose to leave me," he said bleakly. "She fought with everythin' she had t'stay with me." He drew in a shuddering breath. "And when… and when we knew… when she knew she couldn't stay, she cried and begged me to forgive her."

He swallowed hard.

"David had a choice. Abagail didn't. And it's insultin' for you to try to compare one to the other."

"He… he wanted to spare me. He was crippled. Badly injured and he didn't want to burden me." Michaela stammered in automatic defense of the choices David had made, for she had to believe in those choices in order for any of this to make sense.

"Yes. I know," Sully said. "And I do believe that, Michaela. But a lotta time has passed since he was injured. Time enough for him to learn to walk and talk again. Time enough for him to learn a new profession..." He gave her a pointed look.

Time enough, Michaela finished silently, for David to have become a leading voice in his field. Time enough for him to have sought her out at any point in those years after he had recovered. And she wondered how she had allowed herself to ignore that fact until now.

"Now I'm the one that's sorry, Michaela," Sully said as he watched a dejected look settle over her lovely features. And for the first time since he had kissed her in the meadow, he reached out to touch her, taking her hand and threading his fingers with hers.

"I meant no offense to Abagail." Michaela sighed and, taking a chance, leaned her head against his shoulder. She felt him suck in a surprised breath before relaxing again.

"I liked David" he admitted in a conciliatory voice. "Even when I wanted t'hate him." He turned so that his cheek was resting against the crown of her head. "I understand what it's like to be crazy in love with you," he whispered against her hair.

"Oh, Sully. I do love you." Michaela raised her head from his shoulder and stared into his eyes as if willing him to believe her.

"I know, Michaela." He met her gaze steadily. "I know you do."

Pulling her hand free of his, she brushed her fingers against his cheek and lifted her face to his. Sully hesitated briefly before closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a warm and gentle caress and Michaela shifted closer, winding her arms around his neck.

Sully broke gently away from the kiss. Biting his lip, he closed his hands around her wrists, untangling himself from her embrace.

"I gotta go," he whispered. His thumbs stroked a reflexive caress over the thumping pulse points in her wrists.

"But –" Disappointment sounded in her voice.

"It's gettin' late," he said, and with a glance at the moon overhead, released her and rose to his feet.

He could see that she wanted to voice a protest and watched her bite back the words.

"Will I… will I see you tomorrow?" she asked instead as she once again drew the shawl tightly around her shoulders.

"Sure." He paused. "What time is best?" He held out a hand and assisted her to her feet.

"I only have a few appointments scheduled in the morning," she told him. "And one other late in the afternoon. Perhaps we could meet for lunch at Grace's?"

"I'll be there." He dipped his hands into his pockets. "Temperature's dropping," he noted. "You best be gettin' inside now."

He waited as she collected the empty coffee cups and returned to the house. Stopping on the threshold, she looked over her shoulder and he felt the breath catch in his throat. Bathed in a halo of light from inside the homestead, her gaze filled with a hopeful expression, he thought her more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. He wanted to stride up those few steps and snatch her into his arms. He wanted to declare his love as boldly as he had in the sweat lodge a few weeks earlier but so much had happened since then.

He wondered if they were even the same people they had been at that happy time. And he wondered what it would take to get back to that place again.

TBC