Thunderstorms – Continued
Chapter 15: Saturday, August 16, 1913
The clouded sky dampened the morning illumination of the bedroom, as a warm, steady rain drummed on the roof. Dreaming of being in the backroom of his office with Julia, William stirred in his sleep as his muscles twitched, being lightly stimulated by his brainstem, as he dreamt of backing Julia into the wall, pulling down her bloomers and firmly penetrating her. In the dream, he moaned in response to the immense pleasure of having her yield, taking him in and surrounding him in a warm, tight, sexual hug. His throat grumbled – the sound outside of his brain, in the reality of the bedroom, awakening him. He took a deep breath, feeling the sultry air fill his lungs. Aroused and joyful, he smiled and turned to make sure she was there. Still sleeping deeply, Julia snored ever so slightly. Therein arose his dilemma – she very much needed to sleep, yet, he so wanted to wake her, to take his time loving every inch of her. He wanted to hear her breath in his ear, taste her skin, feel her move under him; he wanted to be driven to the brink of his control by her pleas and her moans for him. Such imaginings surged the power of the urgency he felt in his groin. He weakened.
Lifting the covers off of her silky, naked body, he slid down across her and tenderly took her in his arms, then pulling the sheets back up to envelope them together. His lips found her ear, "Julia," he whispered.
Taking a deep, slow breath, she moaned, "Mmm," and said, "William, you're here," as she rolled on her side to face him and rode her thigh up over his waist.
Her body felt exquisite as it glided along his. "Right here," he whispered in her ear. He pulled her closer and kissed her cheek, her neck – finally, his lips touched hers, so gently, before he pressed down against her. She responded, opening her mouth to him, inviting him in. He found her silky tongue, soft and warm. Giving in to his urge to be deeper, he pushed in, building the strength in rhythmical strokes. A heavenly dizziness spiraled in his brain. He wanted only one thing – to be as close to her as possible, and then, even closer than that. He rolled her onto her back and deepened the kiss.
"Oh my God," the words swirled deeply into her brain. She felt his sturdy, zealous lust for her against the inside of her thigh – already so close. Her breath flared out through her nostrils as her desire grew. Her womb tightened and twisted delightfully. William's hand explored, marveling and worshipping her. Each finger rippled up, over the waves of her ribs, to encompass her breast, molding and massaging the supple flesh. "William. Oh my God William," her mind chanted. He broke off the kiss, freeing her to sing his name into the dimly lit secrecy of their room, "William," she said. He kissed and nibbled his way down to her nipple. Squeezing her breast into a peak with both hands, he took her into his mouth, letting his tongue tease and torture the swollen nipple, being rewarded by her moans of pleasure.
Causing her insides to nearly plummet over the edge of her ability to tolerate the tension, he released her breast, and kissed down her center, shifting his body down as he went, and settling between her thighs. Anticipation and excitement surged through her with his playful nips on her inner thigh, bringing her fingers to clench the bed-sheets, and her back to rush into an arch. Breathing becoming rapid, desperately, her mind raced as it descended, "What are you doing to me?" she thought. Feeling so very lightheaded, she begged him to save her from her torment, as her womb coiled so tightly that she was certain it would rupture. "William," she cried, the air rushing out of her nostrils, "Please William," she called again, writhing and wriggling her body as her fingers wound the bed-sheets into spiraled wrinkles, striving to withstand the agonous yearning for his touch.
He smiled, knowing he would give her, now, what she begged for. Bringing an arm under each of her thighs and wrapping them around her, his rough, course fingers masterfully slid between her folds to melt into her luscious, wet need for him. She moaned with relief and intensifying desire. His humid breath, then – "Oh my God," – the slippery silk of his tongue. Her womb flipped and burned, becoming impossibly more taught with lust. Another moan steamed into the room, low and long. Firmly, strongly, he increased the pressure and created a rhythm. Her hips pumped against him, and he followed her lead. "William … Oh, please – don't stop…Oh William, what you do to me," she cried, tears welling up and then trickling down her face as she strained. She was so close to touching the sacred spot. From her peripheries she sensed it first. The eruption had already begun, its rumble building, soon to arrive and to flood her with the heat of euphoria. As the pleasurable waves flowed into her, she reached further and further with each stroke, seeking every last drop of the sweet feeling. "Mmm," she soaked in the contentment, as her hips slowed. When her motion stopped, her muscles succumbed to exhaustion and she lie limp. William kissed his way up, past her belly button, along her ribs, between her breasts, into the crook of her neck, where he nestled in the familiar scent of her hair. Her pounding heart and hurried breathing beat against his chest as he let his weight hold her while she recovered.
His need for her still apparent, swollen and solid, pressed into her thigh, she shifted, tucking herself under his hips. She whispered in his ear, "Make love to me William." Bending her knees, tempting his entry, her summoning, rapid breath burrowed into his ear, swirled his brain, "Please William – deep, deep inside of me. Please," her voice lured. He lifted himself to lower his pelvis, to line up between her folds. Her womb coiled with frenzied expectation.
As his hard, warm tip touched her smooth, juicy resistance, her moan in his ear surged him forward. Rocking her to the core, William moaned as he pressed inward, reveling in her squeezing, tight, slippery, surrender. Filling her completely, his voice knocked into her brain, "Julia. Oh my God, you feel good."
He thrust into her, hard, taking her breath away as he pulled back preparing to thrust into her again. Deeper he pushed in. Deeper again. She was unsure she could take it, her womb once again cramped into delightful need. "Deeper William," she begged, hurling him over the edge of his control. He surged into her with all his might, into her, into her, into her. His hunger driving him wild, for what he wanted so much, was right there, just within reach.
She needed to charge, to catch up to him. Every cell focused on the deepest point inside of her where they touched… Oh – and then it gave way, erupting outward. Ecstasy swept them along together. They spun, and swam, and floated, and fell in warm, exquisite love. Absolutely succulent, scrumptious, delectable, love.
Julia's head resting on his chest, they recovered together, basking in the warm radiance that still flowed within them, between them and around them. The pattering sound of the rain on the roof and through the open window lulled them into a cozy comfort; they were together, safe, leisurely, and madly in love with each other. It was a Saturday.
William reminded Julia that they were expected at the Balloon Show, figuring they would go despite the rain. He caressed one of the scrapes on her face, remembering seeing her balloon disappear in the trees the night before. "I worried I might have lost you," William said with a sigh. "You are an amazing woman, Julia," he added. She burrowed down a little deeper into him and enfolded him with a squeeze. His fingers slid down her arm, to tend to a large scratch on her forearm.
She took his hand in hers and brought his knuckles up to her lips for a kiss. "How did you hurt your hand?" she asked, placing his hand on his chest and tenderly sliding her fingers over the bruised knuckles.
Embarrassment seeped up, filling his gut with uneasiness. He wrinkled his mouth as he remembered punching the wall – remembered being so filled with helpless rage that he lost control, that he did something so stupid as to hurt himself and damage his own wall.
Julia shifted, uncomfortable with his hesitation in answering, "Was it when Isabel Webster shot at you – put the bullet holes in your hat?" she asked.
Realizing he never did tell her what had happened to his hat after she had asked, he quickly figured out that Gulliver probably had – he was the only one that was there. William sighed and then said, "So you know about that do you?"
He felt her nod her head against his chest. "It explains the nightmare you had the night we slept in the reclining chair … the night I escaped from the trunk … and from being put in jail for my abortion," she said.
William turned onto his side and slid down to align their eyes. He lovingly captured some of her curls and tucked them behind her ear. His hand slipped over her ear, his thumb softly tracing along her jaw, he said, "She had put a fake body in the water. I thought it was you… I really did." He took a deep breath. She could hear he was quivering. Shaking his head 'no' – trying to push the awful feelings away as he spoke, he continued, "I was so panicked, so desperate, completely devastated… I …"
Julia's fingers cupped his face and her eyes locked with his, "Do you remember when you lost your memory and ended up in Bristol England?" she started. He nodded, holding his beautiful brown eyes to hers as he did so. She sighed, the memory re-firing the pain within her, "Well, George came to the morgue. He said they'd found a body – near your church, William, a man that met your description…" she said, with her voice taking on a squeaking tone of distress, and tears welling up in her eyes. She took a deep breath as the tears began to trickle down her face and continued, "When I knelt down to that body, so certain that when we turned it over I would see your face … I don't know how I actually stayed conscious with such debilitating fear… And, Thank God, when I saw it wasn't you, I nearly fell over with relief." He wiped away a tear, leaned in and kissed away another. She knew that he knew … he knew that she knew – the agony and anguish of believing the one had lost the other. The momentary quiet was broken when Julia said, "So much like your mother when you were eight… and like so many of your bad dreams, to find me dead in the water." She hugged him close and found his ear and whispered, "I'm so sorry."
He squeezed her tighter, exhaled his suffering into her ear, and said, "I love you."
"And I you," she replied. They lay together for a time.
Julia was the first to get out of bed. She spoke with him from the bathroom while he waited in bed for his turn. He told her that he had punched the wall in anger at his inability to stop Brogan from hurting them. He said he was ashamed for having done it, that such anger was so useless.
Julia spit out the excess toothpaste and walked out of the bathroom to stand before him, deliciously naked, toothbrush in hand. She said, "William, your anger was far from useless. We were pumped with adrenalin – had been for days. And that hormone puts one into the fight or flight mode, or possibly one can become frozen with fear. And, well … I had been bouncing back and forth between flight and freezing – but you William, you moved very firmly into fight mode. It was your anger that drove you there, that gave you the amazing energy and strength you needed to fight. And that energy inspired me William. I truly believe it was what saved us. It is, it was, far from useless."
William got up out of bed, also deliciously naked, and took her by her waist. (She hoped he wouldn't kiss her, as her mouth was still somewhat full of toothpaste). "I would say, Dr. Julia Ogden, that you did quite a bit of fighting yourself, hmm?" he said, clearly flirting with her. He leaned to her ear and explained, "Was it not you who snuck around back behind our mortal enemy and threw a grenade at him? Was it not you who dove off a cliff-sized pier and swam to save my life? And, was it not you I saw up in that balloon, lighting the entire area, enabling the capture of the woman behind it all?"
Pride swelled in her chest. She whispered back, "It was."
He kissed her neck, spun her around to aim her back at the bathroom, and gave her a playful shove. "You are, however, the slowest person at getting dressed I have ever known," he teased. She had to accept the complaint, knowing that it often drove him crazy waiting for her. She chuckled and then made an effort to hurry along.
Quickly, Julia finished in the bathroom, giving it over to William, and began to dress. Wearing her silky bloomers and petticoat, Julia spoke to him from the bedroom. She was starving – she reminded him that they did not have any dinner last night. Her voice grew louder as she entered the bathroom, "I can make us some breakfast, perhaps some bacon and…" She halted, stunned by the view – William was shaving, which always had the potential to take her breath; it was such a masculine act, requiring him to bend forward over the sink to the mirror to better see his work, highlighting his backside, tending to stir a yearning within her. With their little children around, he habitually performed this act while wearing his pajama bottoms – but now, in their absence, his naked, bare haunches were enticingly exposed, hunky and strong.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her. "William, concentrate on shaving, you have a razor in your hand," he thought as a smile curled on his lips.
Julia leaned against the doorframe trying to decide what she would like to do with him. She imagined standing behind him, rubbing up against him, and wrapping her arms around him, stroking him. Oh, how she wanted to hear him moan. As soon as William finished, having wiped the excess shaving cream from his face, and splashed on that marvelously enticing secret Chinese aftershave of his, she pushed away from the door, "This seems like a wonderful opportunity," she teased, "To more thoroughly examine some of the essential pieces of … equipment involved in our fabulous lovemaking." She stepped behind him and slid her arms around his waist. William swallowed as lustful calls stirred within him. She took him in her hand, watching him in the mirror as she did so. His head fell back into the crook of her neck as the muscles holding his head up became sapped of strength, and his mind swirled into a kaleidoscope of dizziness. Holding him softly in an open fist, she pinched the circle formed by her thumb and index finger tight and then pressed down, forcing the top of him to push through, widening the circle of her fingers. As she did so, she described how good it feels when the top of him, "right here," pushes against her, and how the pressure as he moves into her, "opens her, melts her – as if warm, molten liquid was flowing up, and out, and down and in, all through her." Thrills rippled through her when William moaned, or more, whimpered, with her touch. Sliding her fist down around him, and then adding her other fist as well, she described how wonderful it feels when he drives inside of her deeper, how she, "grows dizzy with the delicious torture of the pleasure of feeling you touch me inside, in that one special place, in that one special way, that no one else ever has, or ever will. Your name swirls in my head, William. You move into me so close, and when I think I can bear the delightful torment not one more second, you pull back. And… I think it's this circular layer of skin here near the tip which does it…it makes a vacuum …" she said, as the circle made by her thumb and index finger now slid upwards towards his tip, catching the ring of skin around the tip ever so provocatively, and then her hand continued to slip over him, with each of her curved fingers, one after the other, snagging and then moving over the sensitive skin. It floored him – his knees buckled a bit, his head spun, and he let go a devastating moan, prompting Julia to moan with pleasure as well. "I feel a cyclonic force pull me – drag me outwards, downwards, to you. Stronger than gravity William, the pull. And I yield to it, I am taken back to you. And then you push forward again. Oh my God William, I want you closer," she said. She stopped, lifted her eyes to his in the mirror. His intensity sent a chill through her – almost ragingly his jaw locked as he fought his urge, his look of bloodlust weakened her knees. Her jaw dropped, and the weakest sound, deeper than a squeak, not quite a moan escaped from her throat. "Oh my God, he's going to …" she thought, feeling dizzy.
He roughly stepped behind her, switching their positions, and took a firm hold of her from behind. He pushed her forward into the bathroom counter. Their eyes magnetically connected in the mirror. His hands cupped her breasts as his hot breath rolled over her ear, the wind of it scalding her brain. She couldn't think. Her insides cramped into luscious knots of desire. She gasped with anticipation when his hands slid down, grabbed hold of the top of her bloomers and lowered them, opening her skin to the cool air. She moaned and dropped with the demanding touch of his knee between her thighs, spreading them. He bent over her, covered her, cloaked her – the cold countertop flat and hard against her breasts. "William please," she cried. Her unbearable need for him brought tears to her eyes. "Please," she begged again. She felt him, perfectly lined up. He touched her where she was wet with lustful yearning for him. Again she moaned. "He's going to come inside of me," she thought, she prayed. As she felt the power of him breach her, make her yield to him and he drove into her, he aggressively took her shoulder in his teeth, clenched slowly but firmly down into the flesh, as he surged deeply into her. Her moan was overwhelming, driving William wild. She felt, she heard, his nostrils blast heat across her neck. "Oh my God the strength of it," she thought as he thrust forcefully into her, again and again. Unsure she could survive it, Julia called out, "Oh my God Please William, don't stop". Every muscle in his body worked to get deeper inside of her; he grunted with the effort. The sheer animalistic need he had for her shoved her to the edge. The height of it stole her breath.
He heard her gasp, felt her pause. "She's going over. I have to hurry," the words twisted in his mind as it spiraled out of control. With a strength he did not know he had, he plunged forward into her. "It's right there. Right there," he thought as he stretched out with all his might to touch that one perfect spot. Oh, and the release of it when he made contact. An explosion of ecstasy filled him. "Oh my God you are delicious, absolutely delicious," spun in his brain as he moaned with the sweet pleasure of their love.
As often happened when William lost control, regret flooded through him as he lay, exhausted, over her. Slowly the realization that they were bent over the countertop in their bathroom sunk into his awareness. He remembered biting her shoulder, hard. His hand found her face, brushed her hair aside and he kissed her face. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear.
She pushed abruptly upwards into him, standing them both upright, and turned to face him. Julia threw her arms around his neck and propelled him backward with her body into the wall, plastering him into it with a thud. "Don't you dare apologize, William!" she insisted.
She sounded angry, he thought.
Grabbing handfuls of his hair in her fists she stated, "How many times am I going to have to tell you, until you believe me … that I absolutely love it when we make love like that!"
William swallowed, his eyes wide with worry, begging her… before she kissed him, passionately, deep and hard, rough and hurried. She felt him respond – kiss back. When she broke off the kiss and looked in his eyes, she sighed satisfactorily, "Thank God I think he's got it now," she thought. "Now, as I was trying to tell you before all of this … I'm starving and I'm going to go make breakfast.
As she walked away, he thanked his lucky stars that she loved him. He decided to hurry, as he realized that he was starving too.
William looked through the abundant mail that they had received during the time they were staying at the station, while Julia stood cooking at the stove. She talked with him about how very much she wanted to see the children. She wanted to be home, safe and sound with them, here in their home. Oh, how she longed for their return to their routines…
One of the envelopes was from the Club. William experienced a pang of nausea upon seeing it, figuring it was the notification that they had finally been kicked out, and their remaining money returned to them. Memories of their fight to be able to eat lunch in the Club Restaurant, not so very long ago, played in his mind. The memory of the maître d telling him that he had never really been wanted there in the first place, particularly hit with a sting. He sighed, remembering Isabel Webster saying that he had ruined Julia's life. "Perhaps he had…" he thought. Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts by a very distinct smell – a somewhat unpleasant and urgent one. "Julia's burning the toast again!" he thought.
They ate breakfast quickly, as there were quite a few errands to run. They needed to stop at the bank to get money – it was essential to pay Judith and Claire-Marie for all the extra care they had given their children. And they decided to stop and buy William a new homburg, after Julia convinced him that repairing his old, and most beloved, hat was not going to be acceptable. Her argument, that you would always be able to tell that there were two holes in the hat, was effective, and reluctantly, he had agreed.
Walking out of the house, they noticed the rain had stopped – the smell of the moist air, the soil, and the flowers soothed and excited them, causing them to pause on their front path, and appreciate the lovely day, and the fact that they were alive, and well, and together. "What good luck for Reggie and his Balloon Show," Julia declared. She seemed to be looking for something in the distance, squinting and using her hand as a visor with which to block the Sun from stinging her eyes.
William leaned closer to her and asked, "What are you looking for?"
"This is the perfect weather to see a rainbow," she replied.
William glanced away briefly, and smiled, before he stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist to share her view. It was one of those moments where time seemed to stand still, where the sound of one's voice echoes with a special whisper, announcing the awe of the world. His voice close to her ear, the intimacy complete, the gorgeous tone of it melting her and exhilarating her inside, he asked, "Why do you think they call it a RAINbow?" He followed the question with mischievous, distracting nibbles on her ear.
"Oh my God I love this man so," she thought. "Well, Professor Murdoch," she teased, "I believe it is because you can only see them when there is rain and sun."
"Mm," he answered, his mouth still occupied with her ear. He lifted his lips away from her, allowing him to speak. "You are right about that my dear, but," he paused, "you don't look for a rainbow in the sun; you look for it in the rain." With that he turned them both around, to face in the opposite direction. He treasured the sound as Julia gasped with delight. Before them, magnificently displayed across the sky, there was a bright, colorful, beautiful rainbow, sparkling away in front of the distant, dark clouds.
"Oh William! It's glorious!" she exclaimed.
"That it is," he agreed. His mind ran away with a thought – an analogy really. Knowing the means of making such a beautiful rainbow involved the differing degrees of bending of the different wavelengths of electromagnetic energy from the Sun through the more dense water droplets in the sky, and he thought to compare this to having the immense powerful energy of their love for each other and their children being bent through the higher density of the troubled times they had just experienced … thinking that such a thing happening creates the ability to see what is always there, but is not always visible.
Julia moved to stand next to him, taken by his look, seeing introspection and curiosity on his face. "What are you thinking?" she asked.
Drawn away from his thoughts, his brown eyes met her blue ones, and he smiled. "Something about it … Somehow helps me understand our love, somehow…" he said with a wrinkle of doubt at one corner of his mouth.
"Really?" she said with a giggle. She slid her arm into his and squeezed it tight. "My God I love you William Murdoch," she disclosed with glee.
By the time they arrived at the Annual Poundset Balloon Show, quite a big crowd had formed. The balloon Julia had stolen and crashed was centrally displayed near the stage – its bright, jumbled medley of colors now visible in the light of day. Some members of the press stood close to the stage and spotted them as soon as they stepped out of the carriage. They led the rush to surround the couple. Cameras clicked away as questions were thrown at them from all sides. "Detective Murdoch, how does it feel to have thwarted the planned escape of so many dangerous criminals?" "Dr. Ogden, is it true that it was YOU who flew the balloon in to save the day?" "How did you survive the crash?" "Detective Murdoch, would you like to comment on the raid on the illegal weapons factory down at the docks?" William and Julia patiently answered questions and posed for photos.
Afterwards, the couple found Mr. Poundset back behind the stage. Hoping to get the announcements over quickly, worrying that there might be more rain, Mr. Poundset hurried on stage and began. Within minutes he invited the "most famous couple in Toronto" onto the stage to share with the crowd about their latest adventures. The crowd cheered for them. Into the microphone, Julia described in detail what had happened the night before. Reggie made her promise to resume her flying lessons, and to bring their children too. Later, she was asked to sign people's Balloon Show Programs.
They hadn't noticed that Brogan sat in a carriage near the road, watching the show from afar. Two other men joined him as the driver clicked the horse forward after William and Julia's carriage. They didn't notice, but they were being followed.
The closer they got to the children, the more agitated William became. Julia noticed he kept turning and looking out the back window of the carriage. "What is it William?" she asked.
He didn't want to worry her, but the moment he lined his eyes up with hers, he knew it was too late. He sighed and replied, "We may be being followed." His face took on its usual apologetic look as he shared the bad news. "Maybe this was not such a good idea – to go get the children with Brogan still out there," he elaborated.
Julia looked worried now too. "Perhaps," she sadly agreed. William instructed the driver to turn off of their planned route and watched out of the back window. The carriage he expected was following them did not turn in the same place prompting him to sigh with a bit of relief. After about a mile he had the driver double-back and then they continued on their way. William figured it would be best to go to their lake-house rather than Judith's house just in case. They could walk up through the woods to Judith's house from their house. Besides playing it safe, he wanted to check the scrutiny cameras to see if anyone had been in their house, possibly to set up a trap.
William offered Julia a hand as she stepped out of the carriage. The driver turned around and headed back out to the road. Once they were inside the front door, William glanced around, assuring himself they were alone, and then immediately climbed up on a stool to get the first scrutiny camera down. Julia stayed at the front door and looked out the window. A sickening feeling pumped through her – the carriage they had arrived in moved over to the side! It was letting another carriage go by! Someone was coming! "William!" she screamed out, "There is another carriage coming!" Alarm surged through him. He climbed down from the stool as she added, "Oh my God, they have guns William!"
Grabbing her hand, he rushed for the backdoor. He flung the door opened and they quickly stepped out. Only two steps out, they both stopped. Julia looked into his eyes and with fright in her voice whispered, "They will see our footprints in the mud!"
The pause was very brief – but he knew they needed a plan. "We have to make it to the wall," he ordered. He bolted forward, pulling her along as fast as their feet could carry them.
With their chests heaving to try to get the oxygen they needed, William stepped up onto the stonewall, (the one he had repaired without wearing a shirt a year earlier) and tuned back to offer her a hand. He noticed that the first few steps that they would take along the top of the wall would leave a slightly visible mud trail. They had no choice though, they had to go now. After rushing along the top of the stonewall for about a hundred feet, he helped Julia get down. He frantically gathered up fist-sized stones and stuffed them into his pockets. Then he handed Julia some stones as well, telling her to put them in her purse. Then they stealthily doubled-back towards the path. Grateful that Brogan and his men did not seem to be following their trail down the path just yet, William ripped Julia's dress, enabling her to spread her legs sufficiently to climb, and gave her a leg-up into a tree. Julia's tree was about fifteen-feet back from the muddy footpath. He instructed her, "Climb high. Have the stones ready. Only throw them if they are coming for you – if they have found you," he authoritatively yelled with a whisper. Then he climbed up into a tree that was right next to the path.
Both William and Julia stopped their ascents up into their respective trees when they heard the men's voices. They were coming!
Julia feared she would vomit from the terror as she waited up in her tree and watched. They were getting closer! Then she saw them – she surprised herself when she realized that it was possible to feel even more afraid. One of the four men had a rifle – Oh my God it was Brogan! The others jogged along behind Brogan, switching their sights from the left to the right as they moved down the path. Their guns were drawn. They were ready to shoot. She held her breath, praying they wouldn't hear her – or William, begging that they wouldn't look up.
The moment the last man stepped past his tree, William flung a stone at that last man's head. "Whack!" it hit its target hard. The other three men halted and turned back to see what had happened, as the man fell unconscious to the ground. Having still had not considered that the attack may have come from above, their eyes frantically searched for their quarry at ground-level around the trail. Their weapons jerked from place to place as they swung quickly to take aim at different targets around their periphery.
William summoned his courage, for he knew this next throw would likely reveal his position. He coiled his arm back... (Julia gasped as she watched him from her tree). And he threw the stone with all his might, aiming for Brogan. "Smack!" the sound of the impact hurled through the air. The stone had hit Brogan in the cheek bone, right on his scar, the impact knocking him to the ground. The other two men scanned to treetops looking for who threw the rock. William was well-hidden, propping himself upright, standing behind the tree-trunk. Brogan recovered and stood back up to join them on their hunt.
Julia was glad she had chosen to wear her blue dress that day, hoping it would meld in with the sky as seen through the green leaves. She could see William, standing, holding his breath behind the skinny, brown trunk of his tree. Panic filled her as she noticed he had another stone at the ready. "He was going to throw one again! … Even knowing they were searching for him in the trees – and that they had guns at the ready!... Oh my God," she gasped.
Suddenly, William moved out from behind the trunk and catapulted another stone at one of the men. His aim was good, landing it with a "thwack," against a third man's head. The man fell to the ground, wobbly but still conscious. Brogan and the other man still standing took aim at William. They fired! Amazingly, their bullets missed, as William jumped off of his branch and plummeted towards the ground through the branches of his tree. After falling about fifteen feet, William stopped his fall as he caught a solid branch with the backs of his knees and then quickly grabbed a hold of it with his fingers. Julia marveled with temporary relief, knowing her husband's experience working in the logging camps had just saved his life – at least for now.
Brogan held a hand up at his mate, stopping him from continuing to fire on William. "Put it down, Sean," Brogan said, aiming his rifle squarely at William, who now sat upright on the branch. Julia noticed William reaching into his pocket for another stone. She decided to arm herself as well.
"Detective Murdoch is mine," Brogan claimed. "Don't move Murdoch!" he demanded. "Oh, I'm going to kill you, but before I do, I wanted to tell you what I'm going to do with your pretty little wife, "Julia," he explained, twisting the sound of her name into a perverted, girlish tone.
William's head raced into a panic. He fought, not to spin out of control, with every cell in his body. "Leave her alone," William yelled out, "She has nothing to do with this!"
Brogan laughed an evil, abusive cackle. "Oh, but she does," Brogan claimed, "You see, my Jane found you to be quite attractive," he continued, his jaw rigidly locking with his fury over the arousal of his jealousy. "And it's because of you and your, "Julia," Murdoch, that I don't have my Jane anymore. Now, I figure it's my turn to take your girl… And I wanted you to know, not to worry. I'm not going to kill her. No, I have much better plans for her… Much better," he jeered with another wicked cackle. "I do like a girl with spunk, and your Julia sure has spunk… Now she is a TOFF, a lady with class … She needs to be brought down a peg or to, and it's going to take a real man to do that," Brogan elaborated as he tended to do. He wasn't aware of it, but it was one of his biggest weaknesses. Brogan re-focused his attention behind his rifle, aiming it once again directly at Murdoch.
William felt sickened by his thoughts as he remembered the sight of Jane, battered and naked, teetering on edge of death by Brogan's brutalization. But, then his emotions flipped, and a rage surged through him at the thought of this … bastard doing that to Julia. His hand holding the stone twitched as he tried to decide whether or not to throw it…
At the same time, Julia battled with herself as to whether or not to throw her stones at the men. She did not have a clear shot at Brogan – a tree was blocking her line of sight, her line of fire. She did, however, have a shot at the man on the ground, the man who just now brought himself back on his feet. "William has another stone ready," she thought. "If I distract Brogan, he will throw the stone!" she decided. She forced herself to scream it out – loudly, "Detective William Murdoch has more manliness in his one little finger than you will ever have in your whole body, Brogan," she hollered from her tree top, learning from William, standing erect behind the trunk.
Julia's plan did not work! Brogan never took his eyes off of Murdoch; William did not have an opportunity to throw the stone at a distracted target. The other two men jerked their guns in the direction of Julia's voice. Brogan spoke loudly to ensure all could hear him as he held Murdoch in his scope, "Sean, don't kill her – I want the pretty lady alive!" he ordered. Sean and the other man moved down the trail looking for Julia up in the trees. Brogan then addressed Julia, never taking his eyes off of Murdoch, "Oh you are very clever doctor. I will have to keep that in mind later… when I have you on my leash. A lesser adversary may have lost sight of your William, surprised by your call… Giving him a momentary advantage in our little showdown – one much like, "David with his stones, versus Goliath with his, well in this case, my gun." Brogan took a deep breath, preparing for battle. Now he addressed Murdoch directly, "So let's do this Murdoch. We can call it an experiment. Which travels faster, a stone or a bullet?"
Brogan tucked the rifle tighter against his shoulder and held his breath...
William drew his arm back, beginning his throw...
Julia stepped out from behind the trunk and threw a stone as hard as she could at the weakest man…
Piercing the air, a loud rifle shot boomed through the air.
Brogan dropped to the ground, blood spurting from his head. Sean turned back to see where the shot came from. William's body cracked branches and swished through leaves as he fell down through the tree. Julia's rock hit the unknown man in the shoulder, causing him to drop his gun. William's stone hurled over Brogan's now fallen body, hitting nothing.
"William!" Julia screamed out with panic. She watched his body falling, tears already blurring her view. The unknown man called out that he had sight of Julia. Sean took aim at whoever had fired the shot that had dropped Brogan, aiming his handgun further up the path towards the house.
Julia nearly fell to her knees – nearly fell out of her tree, as her body reacted to the relief of seeing William reach out and grab a branch, stopping his fall. "He's alive!" she thought. A gun fired further up the trail. When she looked back to see where the men had been standing on the trail, she only saw Brogan, on the ground with a massive pool of blood under his head, and the first man William had hit with a stone – his body lay a few feet away.
Both William and Julia rushed to get down out of their respective trees. A few moments later they heard another gunshot, only to be quickly followed by a rifle shot. William waited for her at the bottom of her tree. She jumped down to be caught and steadied in his arms. No time for hugging, they quickly ran up the path towards the house.
Just off of the path, they found him – the man who had come to their rescue, William's father, Harry. He had been shot; blood covered one side of his pelvis. He was lying on the ground, but he still held his rifle, now empty of ammunition. He was conscious.
"Harry!" William yelled, kneeling down next to him. Julia soon ran up behind. "Are you alright?!" William demanded.
"Well, I've been shot boy," Harry answered. "But I think I'll live," he added. Harry's eyes lifted to meet Julia's and he asked, "What do you think doc?"
Julia dropped to her knees next to William. He had been shot in the hip. They were looking at the exit wound; the bullet had gone clean through him. "We need to stop the bleeding," she said, her years of experience having trained her to sound calm. She grabbed a hold of her skirt and ripped at it to make temporary bandages. Bringing Harry into an upright position, she wedged one piece of her skirt into the wound in the back of his hip, and then the other piece of her skirt was placed firmly against the front wound. "Push as hard as you can against them," she told Harry. She noticed William was gone.
Looking back down the path, she saw the two men's bodies still lying inert on the ground, but no sign of William. As she turned to look up the path towards the house, he came into view.
William was sprinting fast. "I called for an ambulance!" he called out. Winded he stood in front of her and asked, "Will he be alright?"
She nodded, and said, "Yes, I believe he will be."
William's face showed his relief. "They got away," he said, still out of breath. His eyes glanced down the path at Brogan and the first man he had hit with a stone. They lay motionless on the ground.
Harry explained that he had shot one of the men who was running away, he was sure of it.
"Do you have any more cartridges?" William asked Harry, dropping his eyes to his rifle.
"Yep," Harry replied. He looked to his shirt pocket. William pulled out two cartridges and reloaded the rifle. He walked down the trail, rifle at the ready, to make sure the two men there were actually dead. They were.
Waiting for the ambulance, Julia told William she was glad Brogan was dead – she really didn't want another possible Gillies situation. William couldn't deny that he agreed with her, but he was relieved that it wasn't he who had killed Brogan. He regretted killing the other man. Throughout his career, he had killed very few people; this would take a toll on his soul.
William and Julia looked at Harry as he mumbled and ranted about how, "No god-danged hoodlum was gonna kill his boy… And not his boy's lovely wife neither. No sir-re, not if Harry Murdoch was around he weren't." Julia thanked Harry. She told him she thought he was very brave. Julia even gave Harry a "thank you" kiss when the ambulance showed up. William thanked him too, stating clearly that Harry had saved the day, saved him, saved Julia, and saved their children. Harry quickly corrected him, "No son, I saved my grandchildren… Them there kids – they's my grandchildren too."
"Yes they are," William agreed. Harry was taken to the local hospital. William and Julia gave him some money, planning on helping him get back to Toronto as soon as he was able.
As the ambulance pulled away, Julia sighed and said, "Please now, William." She so wanted to go to their children.
He took her in his arms and teased her, "Are you sure you want them to see you in this … dress?"
Suddenly she became aware that much of her skirt had been torn away, and her legs were scandalously exposed. She thought there might be something she could change into in the lake-house. "As soon as I've changed then," she argued.
He nodded, but then he smiled a mischievous smile and said, "Perhaps we could save this dress though – there is something about how wild and … well…"
Julia stepped back and put her hands on her hips. She coquettishly wiggled her hips at him and playfully said, "So, husband… This is a look that excites you?" He nodded. She laughed and added, "Well, soak in the sight of it detective – it's definitely going in the trash as soon as it's off." She laughed harder when he did something she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him do before – he pouted. "William," she held her sides with the size of her laugh, "Really?!" He smiled and they headed into the house.
Julia switched off the light and closed the girl's bedroom door. She turned to William next to her, sharing, with a glance, her happiness to have her family whole once more. He took her in his arms and they stood together there in the hallway for a time. So many emotions flooded through her; she felt both giddy and like she might break down and cry. His breath in her ear stabilized her. With a soft kiss to her cheek, he turned to take her elbow, and they headed downstairs to clean up. It seemed that, besides the children wanting to play with the new toys their parents had bought them, they even more so wanted to play with each and every old toy they had as well. Still, later they would need to clean up the upstairs as well, for each child had needed a bath, and the whole bunch of them seemed more insatiable then ever when it came to horsing around with their parents, making quite a mess. It was probably for the better that as a result, everyone was exhausted. It might be a hard night to fall asleep, after so much excitement, and not being home together for so long.
Finally preparing for bed themselves, William and Julia headed up to their bedroom. Once inside, Julia put her arms around her husband's neck and said, "I am so very taken with you, William Henry Murdoch." Her ever-so-buttoned-up husband was still wearing his tie – he had wanted to look professional for their appearance at the Balloon Show, and although he had finally removed his jacket and vest, and even rolled up his shirt sleeves, he somehow had managed to keep that tie on. She seductively worked to loosen it. Shaking her head with amazement and disbelief, she explained, "You have such a brilliant mind… How did you ever think up that plan so quickly, with the trees and the rocks and the trick with the footprints… I'm flabbergasted by it William."
Playfully, Julia pushed back against his chest. He gave in to her desire to be in charge, stepping back, submitting to her. "Bump." He could step back no further, his back now pressed up against the wall. He watched her, becoming more and more aroused, as she removed his tie. He gave in to his urge to touch her when she began to unbutton his shirt, and tucked her mouth in to the newly exposed skin on his neck, kissing it and enticingly surprising him with a nip. Her voice was husky and dry as she said, "I want to make you feel good, William." The suspenders slid off of his shoulders. She pulled the tail of his suit free of his trousers and slid it off as well. He felt a jolt to his groin as she stroked and kissed his naked chest.
Although he had given her control, he so wanted to kiss her. Placing his fingers under her jaw, he lifted her face. "My God she is beautiful," he thought before he kissed her. His brain spun into a dizzying stupor, feeling her fingers take the top button of his trousers.
She broke off the kiss to hover her lips over his ear. "I want to hear you moan… because you feel so good you can't bear the sweet suffering," she whispered. She pinched at the second button, getting what she had asked for as his knees buckled slightly, and he dropped his head back and moaned.
Feeling too quickly out of control, William lifted her hands and brought them back up to wrap them around his waist. He tenderly said, "Unless you want me to fall down on my knees, you'd best slow down a little, Mrs. Murdoch."
He hadn't called her that for a while, an endearment that highlighted their unconventional marriage. She so loved him, knew he loved her – probably even more than she did him. Flashes from the day sprinted through her mind's eye; the look in his eyes when he told her to climb, seeing him prepare to throw a stone while hidden from sight behind the tree trunk. Emotion bowled her over, took her so quickly she had no chance to brace against it. Tears filled her eyes and her throat choked up. He sensed it, and somehow stepped closer to her. "When I heard the shotgun go off, William …" she sucked in some air, the sound shaky as sobbing overcame her. Her eyes touched his briefly, the beauty of him surging the pain and fear deeper into her heart. "I thought it was you!" she said, her voice rising higher into a squeaky desperation. "I thought you were dead! And then I saw you falling through the tree …"
William took her face in his hands, his fingers sliding into the nooks of her hair still in its bun. He chuckled softly and shook his head at his own thoughts. He leaned down closer to her and said, holding her eye firmly, "It's funny what the mind does. It tricks you into seeing what you expect to see. I thought it was Brogan's rifle that had fired too. I had intentionally dropped from the branch, but as I was falling I was thinking, "Why don't I feel the shot?" It's so odd." The corner of his mouth had taken its customary twist for when he questioned his thoughts, when he was asking her what she thought.
He had pulled her out of her distress, challenged her to marvel with him at the human brain. Oh, she loved this man so…
There was a tiny, little knock at the door, prompting William and Julia to look at each other, checking to see if the other had heard it too. Julia's face took on a worried look, call it mother's intuition. Their youngest daughter stood in front of the door as her mother opened it, diving into her arms the moment she saw her. She was holding her little teddy bear, Berry Bear. Julia lifted her up and carried her over to her vanity chair, where the child sat on her mother's lap and cried into her chest. Julia looked up at William, her sadness for their daughter's suffering showing on her face. "What is it sweetie?" she asked softly.
Her voice being muffled in her mother's chest combined with her distress, made it difficult to make out what she was saying. William squatted down next Julia and said, his voice firmer than her mother's, "Chelsea, you have to calm down, honey … and lift your face up so we can hear you."
Julia said, "Take a deep breath."
Chelsea lifted her head and looked into her mother's eyes. She exaggerated taking a deep breath, following her parent's instructions.
"Good," Julia said. Her parents waited.
"I can't sleep," she said, rubbing her eyes. Much to Julia's amazement, somehow William, who was only wearing his trousers at this point, produced a handkerchief and handed it to the child. She used it to wipe her eyes.
"Why can't you sleep?" Julia asked. Both parents noticed that Chelsea pretended to wipe Berry Bear's eyes with the handkerchief too. "Is it Berry Bear? Is Berry Bear upset?" Julia asked. The little one nodded. Julia looked at William, she knew from her psychiatry training that the child would more easily tell her story through the doll than as if it were about herself, she did not know if William knew this. Turning her attention back to her daughter, Julia took a deep breath and said, "Well, I think Berry Bear went through an awful lot being separated from you for so long…" Chelsea nodded, her mother got it. Julia continued, "And he was probably really scared…" Chelsea looked up at her and nodded faster. "But you know what Chelsea, Berry Bear is home safe now. And he has you, and all of the rest of his family, home safe with him, hmm?" Chelsea nodded.
William leaned in and stroked his daughter's curls and added, "And Berry Bear was very brave. He's a real survivor."
Chelsea looked up at him and said, "But he got hurted Daddy," as she showed him a tear in the teddy bear's arm.
"Oh, I see," William replied. "Yes, that probably hurts a lot," he continued. Chelsea nodded again. "Well, your Mommy is an amazing doctor, and I wager she can fix that right up," he suggested looking at Julia.
"I'm sure I could," Julia said, tenderly touching her fingers to the bear's arm.
"Could you Mommy?" Chelsea asked, with a smile on her face. As Julia took the bear and began to further investigate the "injury," Chelsea started crying again.
William rubbed the child's back and explained, "Chelsea, Mommy has to take Berry Bear if she's going to fix him."
"But he's still going to have bad dreams!" she cried.
"Why?" her father asked, looking at her with love and concern in his eyes.
"Because," she started to explain, but started sniveling, making it impossible to speak. Her father wiped her eyes with the handkerchief again and then, looking firmly in her eyes he modeled taking another deep breath. She inhaled, and then with her face wrinkled in worry she explained, "Because he'll still see the body hanging from the tree … with all its insides coming out. And the scary man with the knife."
"Oh this is bad," both parents thought. William was wondering if she could have seen him almost get shot and fall from the tree, but then… there wasn't a knife, and his body was never dead… "Chelsea," he said, sounding amazingly calm, "You have to tell us a little bit more about what Berry Bear sees in the bad dream. Do you know whose body is hanging from the tree? Or who the man is with the knife?"
Somehow the specific questions calmed the little girl down. She looked at her mother and then back to her father. "The body is a deer, and it's hanging from a tree by its horns." Her parents nodded, she was doing well. "And a man I don't know cut open its belly with a really big knife, like Eloise uses sometimes," she continued and then had to take another deep breath. The memory of the sight flooded her emotions again and her face wrinkled as she described it, "This bloody, snaky stuff came out, Daddy… Like the stuff in Mommy's book."
William and Julia shared a look of relief. Both parents knew she was referring to the ANATOMY book Julia had showed them when they were learning about muscles. And, it seemed, that while Chelsea was playing in the woods at Judith's, she must have happened upon a hunter butchering his kill.
Julia took Berry Bear into a tight hug and said, "Oh poor Berry Bear, that does sound like such an awful thing to see," prompting her little daughter to nod her head energetically, knowing someone understood how badly she felt.
Now kneeling next to them, William placed his hand on Chelsea's knee, drawing her eyes to him, and said, "You know what? Your Mommy is not only a doctor that can fix up hurt bodies, she is also a doctor that can fix up hurt thoughts and feelings and dreams too." He looked up at Julia and she nodded at Chelsea.
"Can you fix Berry Bear's being scared too, Mommy?" she asked, filled with hope.
"I think so," Julia replied," but it will take a little while." Julia looked at William. She knew they weren't done; Chelsea needed to contend with what she saw more directly in order to have her fears addressed. She was impressed as she noticed him rock back on to his heels, assuming a more permanent position, showing he understood there was more to do.
Her father's deep breath as he prepared to speak drew Chelsea's attention. "I think I know what Berry Bear saw," William started. Chelsea's eyes grew wide and dark with interest. "You see sweetie, sometimes there are hunters in the woods. They go there with guns to hunt for deer. They kill them for food," William paused, trying to ascertain whether or not Chelsea understood.
"They eat them, Daddy?" she asked.
"Yes, they do," he answered, "But some parts can't be eaten, some of the inside parts. So what I think Berry Bear saw was a hunter taking out the parts he couldn't use as food for his family to eat."
Chelsea looked to her mother, who nodded in agreement, then back at William. "But didn't it hurt?" She asked.
William rolled up onto his knees, raising his height, placing his eyes in line with Chelsea's, as the little child still sat on her mother's lap. He slowly shook his head and said, "Nope. I don't think the deer was feeling any pain when you … Berry Bear saw him. Probably at the very moment when the hunter shot him, the deer felt pain then, but it wouldn't have been for very long, I promise. And then his soul went up to heaven, and that's a beautiful place where he won't feel pain any more, for sure." William's mind drifted for a moment to the man he had killed with the stone. He had consoled himself with much the same thoughts earlier.
"You sure Daddy?" she asked, rubbing her eyes, looking a little sleepy.
"I'm sure," he reassuringly replied. Then William took a deep breath and said, "Now, how about you and I go downstairs and make some hot chocolate while mommy takes care of Berry Bear?" Chelsea looked at the toy in her Mommy's arm and then at her Mommy.
"I'll take very good care of him, I promise," Julia said.
Chelsea turned and reached her arms up, requesting her daddy to pick her up, which he did.
Julia told her she would take care of Berry Bear's arm and his bad dreams. She asked Chelsea's Daddy if he could make her a cup of hot chocolate too, with the little extra kick she liked so much. William gave her a teasing, scolding face and she giggled. Julia heard Chelsea say, as William carried her out of the room, "Daddy, I can see your muscles…" prompting her to smile. "The man does have some nice muscles," she thought, as she pulled out the needle and thread. Julia noticed that the toy smelled badly – like cigarette smoke and along with some other distasteful odors – the stuffed animal needed, "a round through William's laundry cupboard," she thought.
After fixing up the bear, Julia went down the stairs carrying the little bear with a new white bandage. As she walked into the kitchen, she halted. The picture was so beautiful it made her heart sing and flutter. William stood at the stove, his back to her. He stirred the pot of hot chocolate with one hand, while holding their little five-year old daughter in his other. The child had nestled her face in his neck, and fallen asleep against William's naked skin. It reminded her of one of her favorite memories. Right in the same spot, nearly eight years ago, William had cooked some bacon for their breakfast while he held a barely two-month old William Jr. against his naked chest. He had been singing "Amazing Grace" to the infant, his voice nearly as beautiful as the man himself. She took a deep breath, consciously trying to intensify the lovely feelings and walked to stand next to William.
"She fell asleep," he said.
"More for us then," Julia joked, accepting his smile as the best reward she would get. She told William the toy bear needed a quick wash. She put it in the laundry cupboard and started the machine. She hoped to wash and dry it, and then re-wrap its arm and put the beloved toy back in Chelsea's arms before morning. William handed over the hot chocolate-making to his wife, and then carried their daughter up to her bed.
At the end of another long day, the couple sat at the kitchen table, drinking hot chocolate and talking while they waited for the toy bear to be cleaned and dried. William decided to bring the mail to the table, figuring they should discuss the likely bad news from the Club. There was also a letter from Mrs. Helen O'Keefe. His fears were proven right; the Club had discontinued their membership. No reason was given, and their membership-dues money was returned (a check for over one-thousand dollars). William could tell Julia was disappointed. Their children would certainly be unhappy about it too; they had come to quite enjoy participating in the myriad of activities the Club offered.
Opening the letter from Helen O'Keefe, Julia said, "I never showed up for my meeting with her on Thursday…"
"You were rather busy that day, if I recall," William bowed and said. Elation stirred in him upon his remembering seeing her standing in the bullpen, alive, and barefoot, and dirty, from her efforts to free herself from the trunk and get back to him. And then there were the newspaper stories – And his arresting her… And their argument … And her showing up afterwards, in that sexy, white dress he so loved. His eyes met hers, sparks flying as they did so.
She responded shyly, ducking her chin, dropping her eyes from his, finding the letter in her hand to take her attention. "Yes," she simply agreed. She took a deep breath as she pulled the letter from the envelope, and said, "Perhaps she also wants to break any ties with someone who has been exposed as having had an abortion," she reasoned. She remembered how strongly the woman identified with William over being Catholic. As her eyes darted back and forth to read the words, her face changed to one of happiness. Julia looked up at him, her magnetic blue eyes threatening to take his breath, and explained, "She's invited us and the children to dinner." Thinking she better check the postmark, that maybe the woman had sent the letter before she had read the newspapers about her abortion, Julia picked up the envelope once more. She wrinkled up a corner of her mouth upon seeing the date it was sent, "She sent it on Thursday," she said.
"What time were you supposed to meet her on Thursday?" William asked, intrigued with a mystery to solve.
"Not until three," Julia answered.
"Well then," William thought out loud, "She would surely have seen the newspapers before she sent the invitation… She would have known you were kidnapped – And she'd have known of the evidence showing you had had an abortion as well…"
"But, she would not have read the Friday papers yet," Julia continued with a mixture of doubt and hope, "She would not have been given any reason to think that I might have had an explanation for the unfortunate turn of events."
William nodded, "That's true. Perhaps she did not judge you badly for having had an abortion – even without such an explanation." Floating in the air around them was the discomfort of knowing that Julia had lied about that explanation – That she had been forced to so by him. William wrinkled up his face, offering an apology.
Julia rested her chin in her hand and sighed. She caught his eye, "It was for the best," she said. She looked back at the letter. "There is a phone number. I'll call her and say we would like to come, if the offer still stands. It's for Friday night," she said.
"Good," William replied. He pushed his finished cup of hot chocolate away and leaned back in his chair. His mind wandered back to the Club and the distasteful memory of the maître d saying that he had never been welcomed there.
The way he stirred in his seat told Julia of his uneasiness. She took in the look of him to check her suspicions. Their eyes met, his so gorgeous, with their chocolate brown color that had the power to melt her on the spot. He wrinkled a corner of his mouth. "Definitely something's bothering him," she thought. Still thinking his reaction was to the dinner date with the O'Keefe's, she said, "I'm sure Katie will be very excited about seeing her sons again."
"Hmm?" William asked, remembering about meeting the O'Keefe's Friday night, and also about how much Katie had seemed to have a crush on the younger O'Keefe boy before he had even finished uttering his question. "Oh, yes," he corrected. With a smile he agreed, "Of course, you're right, she will be quite excited I'm sure." Then he did it, he held her eye. He took a deep breath…
"He's decided to bring it up, whatever it is," Julia thought.
"Um," he started, then looking away, "Isabel Webster said something … something that's been bothering me."
Julia put her hand over his, "William," she insisted, "Isabel Webster is a murderer. She certainly has no moral character to support anything she has said."
He felt her looking at him. He gave her a quick sideways glance. She wondered, for a second, if he had any idea that every time he does that her insides flip over with some combination of love and lust. She couldn't help but smile. "Well, what is it she said, then?" she decided to ask.
He tapped the fingers of his other hand on the table, "Well, she said one reason she wanted to kill me was because I had gotten my teeth into the idea that Felicity Dawes was the murderer, even though it was obvious to anyone that the woman was not in her right mind…"
"I must say, I remember feeling much the same way at the time," Julia replied. "But…"
His eyes rose, met hers. The look was solid, firm, imploring. "This is it," she thought.
"She said she wanted to kill me because, much like Carl Rodriguez had done with her mistress, I had … ruined your life," William explained.
Julia shook her head 'no' and giggled at the absurdity, "William," she seemed to be lecturing, "That's ridiculous."
He hurried to explain why it bothered him, saying, "It was because of …" he took a deep breath as he realized it wasn't going to be that easy to explain. "You see, both Rodriguez and I, well we were from poor backgrounds. And both you and Miss Dawes were TOFFs…" He looked away for a moment, trying to find his next words. When their eyes met again she saw his sincere concern. "We each promised some kind of magical love and … then we stained your reputations and brought you down," he said. Then he lifted up the letter from the Club and said, "I thought, well … Maybe I did ruin things for you."
If not for the fact that he truly seemed plagued by such thoughts, she would have teased him mercilessly. She held her eyes to his as she stood from her chair. She stood near him, signaling for him to pull back his chair, to make room for her to sit on his lap. "I have only two things to say about that," she said, as she reached down and took her skirt in her fingers. She inched the skirt up, slowly revealing her long, lean legs as she did so.
William swallowed; his head was beginning to spin with lust. He fought to focus, to pay attention to the words she said.
With the skirt up near the very top of her thighs, she lifted a leg over him and sat down facing him on his lap. Her hands danced up his chest and then rested around his neck. "First, I am certain that we were told that we had been kicked out of the Club because I had been convicted of providing women with means of contraception. And I'm pretty sure that my being arrested for having had an abortion only made the board more sure of their original decision," she said. She brought her mouth down to float over his ear, making sure to rattle him as much as possible with a warm, enticing exhale of breath before she added, "It had nothing at all to do with you William."
She sat back and reached up to the top button on her shirt and began to unbutton it. Instantly she felt the rise in him underneath her. "Now, for the second thing…" she said, reaching for yet another button. "If, what you have done to me is ruin my life, then I beg of you, William, please ruin it more," her hungry voice said. Undoing the next button to expose the rounded tops of her breasts, capturing his widening eyes, she then wrapped her legs around the back of the chair and pulled herself tightly against him. She placed a finger under his chin and lifted his face, pulling his eyes off of her cleavage. "Please, please, please, William… Ruin me … Ruin me as deeply and thoroughly as you possibly can with your magical, awesome, amazing love," she whispered before she passionately devoured his mouth in a kiss.
Her body writhed, and pressed, and slid across his. She felt herself become wet with want for him, powered forward by the feeling of him growing more and more rock hard underneath her. She moaned delightfully when his hands roughly grabbed a hold of her hips and he pulled her aggressively down into him. She released his lips and pressed her hands against the back of his head, plastering his face in her bosom. She reached down to find another shirt button and undo it for him … Then another. She felt she might faint with dizziness when his mouth found one of her nipples, swollen and popped up above her corset. "Oh my God, William," she cried. She wrapped her fists in his hair and pulled it tight as she lowered her mouth as close to his ear as she could. "I remember you ruining me here on this kitchen table a few years ago," she said, out of breath and dry. Her womb cramped tight as he wrapped his arms around her and stood up. "Oh my God," her mind raced forward, "He's going to take me right here!"
His mouth released her nipple and she took his earlobe in her mouth, sucking hard on it. Her breath thundered into his ear, blasting demandingly from her nostrils. "I want you in the bed," he said into her ear. He walked, with his wife wrapped fervently around him, to the light switch, and flicked it off. He carried her toward the light beckoning from atop the stairs. Concentrating on ignoring her as she released his earlobe and took a firm hold of his neck, sure to leave a mark. "Oh, you are so in for a ruining," he thought.
As William put his foot up on the first step, the sound of the washing cupboard's buzzer rang through the air. Julia sagged. She was obviously as disappointed by the reminder as he was. He exhaled and stepped back from the steps, letting her slide to the ground as he did so. She did not let go of her arms around his neck however, as she was still fighting with her urges. They stood still together for a moment before she said, "I'll put it in the dryer and take care of the rest." She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and finished, "You go on upstairs, I'll be there later… I promised, and I don't want her to wake up without having the bear there with her."
"Good," he answered and headed up the stairs without her.
The fresh-smelling, clean, teddy bear, with his sutured and wrapped arm in a miniature sling, rested peacefully next to little Chelsea's shoulder. Julia contentedly kissed the sleeping child goodnight and quietly closed the door. Her husband was sound asleep already, dampening her amorous plans. She undressed and put on her nightgown, expecting the little ones to come knocking in the morning, and not wishing to scramble around trying to find something to cover her naked body when they did so. William would get up early and go to mass. She sighed, thinking of his needing to confess his sins for killing a man – this very morning, with a stone. "My God that seemed like a lifetime ago," she thought. She tucked in close to William, taking in the smell of him. Just as the waves of sleep rocked her away, she remembered standing with him behind her, holding her in his arms as he turned her, to see the glorious rainbow. He really did bring a magical love to her life.
One year earlier, William had taught Julia to offer the life-threatening lightning an alternative path – one that 'tricks' it into going away from what is vital, by squatting down low and holding your heels together. The dangerous electrical storm they had faced today offered a similar peril, it approached rapidly, poised to kill. Similar tactics extended their lives as they led the hunters astray, allowing for another chance, creating another possible outcome, finding another way, to divert the storm's deadly power, leaving it open and vulnerable to being extinguished, in this case from another, newer member of their team. William and Julia had survived the worst series of thunderstorms they would ever encounter. Their love had conquered all. Tomorrow, just as much as any other day, would likely bring joy and challenges as well. They would face them stronger, for they would never, ever doubt the power of their love in the face of whatever may come.
(Note: Two more chapters, don't go away)