"Did you ever think we would be here like this?" Michaela asked after hanging her medical bag from its handle around her saddle horn. Her hair was a cascade of copper, gold, and sandy brown ribbons which shimmered with all the gleaming of a glassy lake, beneath the moonlight.

Teresa smiled warmly shaking her head at the follies of their past and how asinine they were in the scheme of things present. "In truth…no. But, I am most happy that it is different now."

Together they looked passed the porch of the terrace and through the wide parlor window. Jake was leaning back into the corner of the sofa holding the moist linen compress against his forehead. He was conversing lightly with Randall who was crossing the parlor and out of sight as he entered the darkened foyer. Teresa turned back to Michaela with a sigh. There was something she desperately wanted to get out, yet couldn't find the appropriate words to broach the subject. Observing this Michaela pressed her lips into a crooked smile. She didn't need to hear the words as they were so aptly woven into Teresa countenance.

"Thank you, for coming," Teresa self consciously tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears. "Thank you… Michaela."

This was a declaration which had yet to be spoken but was always deeply felt. Brightening, Michaela reached forward gently brushing Teresa's arm with understanding. Yes, woven together by their children, by their children's love of a certain Cheyenne father and grandfather, and now they would be by mutual camaraderie.

"We all set?" Randall skipped down the steps, ready to accompany Michaela home. As he mounted Cin' Teresa waved wishing them a safe trip before she turned to walk up the terrace steps.

"Teresa! Wait," Michaela still stood firmly by Flash. "I…I don't suppose I have to tell you." She gestured at the window towards Jake, "He loves you."

Placing her fist to her heart, Teresa nodded, knowing how Jake had behaved in the past. She knew every hideous turn, and cowardly stoop. Yet, more than that, she knew how Jake had transformed himself. How he'd become the man that she knew and the man that was the father to her children.

"I know," she stood tall. "I know."

So now, with this memory blooming around her shattered heart Teresa forced herself to look at Jake. He was beside himself, unsure how to stand, shifting his hands between resting on his hips, and roughly raking his fingers through his hair. Looking further upward, she saw how his Adam's apple sucked in as he gulped down hard. How his lips pursed into a straight line until the corners curled downward holding his words at bay, waiting for her. And his eyes. Jake was visibly in pain, and his changing eyes told the story with more eloquence than his words ever could. His heart was broken because her heart was broken. Deep within those steel blue eyes, there was anger, and there was anguish. Yet, Teresa knew within the depths, under the storm where cool lapis waters drifted, there was love for her.

She drew on this for the strength she needed, to do what she felt was right. Drawing herself up tight as a bow, she turned to face Celina who was slinking her way out of the chair. Celina forced a shameful palette of expression to mold her face, as she maneuvered closer to the door. Yet, with every step, Teresa nudged forward, studying her, seeming to be searching for something in her attitude. Finally, as Celina reached out her hand to pull open the wood framed door, Teresa stopped her. She grabbed at her wrist holding her firmly, yet causing no stress. It was the hold of one woman to another, the look of a wife searching the depths of an unfeeling soul, for a small spark of compassion.

"Why?" she asked desperately hoping there had been a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding would be preferable to the stories of outlandish trespassing, unrelenting deception, and the reproachful slander of Hank's character.

Finding herself intrigued by the fawn tinted hue of Teresa's skin over her own alabaster flesh Celina blinked. Her interest was drawn by how strongly it had perplexed her. Cautiously, Celina drew her eye up truly taking in the barrier, in the form of Teresa Slicker. All the heartbreak, faith, and hope that washed this woman's face, only endeavored to feed Celina's notion that she was weak. Another milksop of a wife, which would simper and look away.

"He didn't act like a married man," her voice was low and inaudible to Jake's straining ears. Now her viridian serpents eyes locked with Teresa's darkening mahogany amber gems. "You're looking for fault in the wrong person."

What new breed of calumny was this? Fast as a switch, Teresa's mouth smirked in disbelief, as her lashes narrowly hooded her now suspicious eyes, and one raised brow. Wanting to tighten her grasp, she inhaled instead, realizing the scope the situation. Teresa forced herself to release the woman, but remained close taking on a haughty air. "And I wonder. Did my child act as though she had no mother?"

Celina coiled feeling her head heat beneath the flames of her hair, "Yes, maybe the blame should go to the absentee. She came just as willingly into my arms as he did."

It happened fast as a lightening strike. Teresa's hand flew out slapping Celina across the face with enough force to knock her head into the framed glass of the shop door. The panes rattled with the ricocheting smack, as Celina's head bounced back, nearly bringing her down to the floor. Simultaneously, Jake winced jumping slightly, with the unexpected retaliation. Holding her aching hand in the other, Teresa took a step back into Jake's arms. He quickly surveyed the way the palm had reddened, and was beginning to swell. But Teresa's eyes blazed unable to look away from where Celina crouched holding her face in shock and extreme pain. "I will say this only once. I do not wish to see you near my family again. They are MY family, Ms. Marrow," Teresa drew up closer to Celina as she glared through her hand. "What kind of woman comes to attempt to destroy a marriage? Jake would no more turn from me than I would from him."

Teresa reached out with her good hand, and flung the door open for the vile snake. She waited until Celina was crossing the threshold before she said angrily close to her ear, "I will see you gone…if only for wronging my daughters, the way that you did."

Together they waited until Celina stepped down from the walk and disappeared among the throng of town's folk bustling under the sweltering sun. Jake placed his hands on her shoulders, spinning her around to face him. Body trembling with her actions, and feeling the stress of what had just transpired; Teresa found she couldn't look up into his face. She couldn't bring herself to hold him, nor did she want him to comfort her. All she wanted to do was back out of the barbershop, collect her daughters from Grace's, and go home. Feet moving of their own volition, she felt herself pulling away from Jake. In her shattered heart, down in the confines of her soul, in every fiber and cell of her being, she knew Jake had done nothing wrong. However, something felt tainted, and broken. Something felt lost beyond her grasp, like water draining from between her fingers.

Slowly turning on her heel, she made to open the door to leave. Jake called her name, yet she continued pulling the door back. No. His hand slammed the door shut, pulling the knob from her hand. With his hands still leaning against the windowpanes just above her, Jake stared determinately at her weeping face. His shoulders slumped, seeing how deeply she had been cut by what she had walked in on. How was it that she loved him so much? Taking her by the elbow, he held her in front of him, and tucking his finger under her chin, Jake forced her to look him in the eye.

"I told yah, never tah pull away from me," the words he'd spoken to her during Lucy's birth. "That yah had my heart…and my soul."

"Jake," it was like a whisper. There was a burning heat emanating in her chest, spindling with a numb throbbing, that choked at her throat. Her worried brows, pushed over the teary crescents of her crying eyes as she stared distressed at his mouth. Would he taste of her? Would he draw comparisons between them? She couldn't control the thoughts in his mind; nor did she want to. All that was clear was that she couldn't bring herself to kiss him now. Couldn't place her hands on his chest and run them down along his ribs, when they drew closer.

Seeing how tortured she appeared, Jake grabbed her hand gently pulling her towards the hutch, were the water basin stood, still full of water. Searching along the shelves, he selected a clear glass bottle with a white label. It was decorated with gold, burgundy, and green filigree, boasting the title Eau de Cologne, in thick gentry' letters. Without hesitation, Jake yanked the cork out with a muffled pop and took in the dark chartreuse liquid. He swished it bitterly about his mouth, making mockingly disgusted faces, before he gargled and spit the fowl astringent from his mouth into the basin. Covering the bowl with a linen towel, Jake flashed one of his trademark grins at her, eliciting a smile behind her hand.

"What's next?" he winked looking down at his vest.

Removing his watch and chain which he placed on top of the bureau of the hutch, he began unbuttoning his vest. Teresa sighed reaching her hand out to stop him. She winced a little as she had used her sore hand. Seeing this Jake lovingly enveloped it with his own. As he did this the sleeve of her dress inched down revealing the slightly raised scars down along her arm. Over time, they had faded and diminished due to the administrations of Cloud Dancing's herbal concoctions and Dr. Mike's persistent clinical interventions. What remained now where the silvery raised web of echoes from the past. Jake nestled the back of her hand with his lips before turning it over and kissing the ruddy palm. His fingers lightly caressed the light bumps of her burn scars, as though the skin had been smooth as silk. Jake was blind to what she felt were things to be ashamed of.

Teresa tugged at her sleeve hiding her forearm from view. Of course, she loved him. Of course, she trusted him. As sure as she was of these truths, she knew she had to tell him, what was going on inside her. Voice trembling she peered into the moving slate blue haze of his eyes, "My heart is broken."

Jake pulled her to him wrapping his arms tightly around her body. She molded into him with her hands resting against the middle of his back. Pressing his lips to her forehead, Jake exhaled gruffly, "My heart's broken too."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Celina slammed the door behind her, throwing herself down onto the bed. Pressing her fingers firmly into her cheek, she felt the warm tang of her sore skin. Not daring to look in the mirror just yet, she resigned herself to weathering the aching throbbing of her cheek. Her eye felt as though it were about to explode, not to mention the growing lump on the opposite side of her head. So she had misjudged the woman.

"Not so weak after all," she mused.

Absently, Celina slid her hand beneath the pillows feeling around for the familiar frame which would bring her comfort and reassurance. However, finding only the cool smoothness of the cotton and linen sheets, she frowned with panic. Sitting up she tossed down the ivory pillows, finding only empty space where the framed photograph should have been.

"Haaarrrrissss!" she screamed ripping down the covers and searching frantically about the room. Haphazardly, opening drawers and rummaging through parchments of dress sketching's, and half made garments, she felt something snap within her head.

"You'll leave her. You'll leave her, for me and the baby," it became her mantra. "You'll leave her…You'll …leave…her…"