NOTE: I'll be really honest with you: this chapter is an extended lovemaking scene. I'll include a summary of the (scant) details that readers would need to know if they skip this chapter, but it is skippable for anyone who doesn't wish to read mature sexual content. I consider it rated M because I avoid naming body parts and keep from explicit physical actions, but the sentiment, emotional connection, and reactions are unabashedly sensual. It flirts with the demarkation line, I'm saying.

For those who do wish to skip this, no shade or rebuke from me! I wrote this story for me (and am pleased to have any readers at all!), and though I didn't intend to go this far, I love what I ended up with, and an entire chapter is much easier to skip.

SUMMARY (skip if you wish to read the chapter): Prompted by the thunder, Christy has a nightmare that the Tatum family came back en masse to harm Neil in front of her. Neil comforts her, but a close lightning strike sends him out in the deluge to check for damage and fire. In her fear, for the first time she prays that he'll find faith, hoping he'll feel the same kind of unwavering trust in God that she has in him.

When he comes back, Christy mirrors the first chapter by unbuttoning him, and through reassurance and passion, they have sex for the first time.

There's no hesitancy or consent issues, and there's a short scene at the end where Christy laments not getting much sleep before school in the morning, and Neil teases her that they can start earlier next time.

A True Tempest Cleric

Christy was standing in the doorway to Neil's cabin with two iron bands around her chest that held her arms to her sides- and she was screaming.

"You can't! He was just trying to help her, don't you understand? Please don't do this!"

Tears streaked down her face as she struggled. Neil was on his knees in the grass, surrounded and held down by faceless, angry men. His hands were tied at his back, but he'd managed to spit out his gag. The look on his face was resolute.

"At least take her inside!" he roared up at his captors, but one of them struck him in the head with the butt of his gun.

"No! Please, think about this! I need him, the whole Cove does! How many more babies and mothers will die if he isn't here to help them?"

Suddenly, their attackers crowded around Neil, blocking him from her sight, just as the man who was restraining her started to drag her backwards. Christy threw her weight sideways with all her might, and the arms restraining her were suddenly gone as she broke free, rolling to the ground.

She fell farther than she ought to have, and everything was dark as she landed on her side on the floor.

"Christy!" Neil called out, anguish in his voice.

"Hang on and fight!" she yelled back, getting her hands up to try to move whatever she was wrapped in. The fabric went on and on as she pulled, and she tried to take deep breaths and calm down. He needed her right now. She had to save him.

Fresh air surged into her lungs when she got free. Christy tried to orient herself as strong hands grasped her upper arms, and she bucked and wrenched herself loose.

"Christy, Christy, it's just a dream!"

It was Neil, just as frightened as before. Did they force him to say that? And why was it still so dark?

Her assailant caught her wrists into a brutal grip and dragged her to a stand- but something was wrong. His touch gentled, and she caught Neil's scent; the desperate shriek in her mind to hurry hurry hurry settled enough that she could hear a gentle, reassuring voice. She didn't understand the words, but it was Neil speaking.

"You're safe?" she asked, leaning against him. He was still holding her wrists.

"I'm safe. That must have been some nightmare." His voice was gravel dragging across fear and regret, emotions she'd put there, even if it wasn't intentional.

"It was the Tatum family. They all came back, angrier than before. They were going to kill-" She shook her head, guilt piercing through her. "None of them would do that, but in the dream, it was so real!"

"If I release your hands, love, will you flail about again?" Neil interrupted. "You almost knocked over the oil lamp."

The steady way he called her attention to the logic of the situation finally released the stranglehold fear had on her mind, and the awful tension of terror left her body. He let go of her hands, but that severed their physical connection, and new tears welled up.

"I'm sorry," Christy whispered. She was speaking to Neil, to the Tatum family, to herself, to everyone.

Outside, a crack of thunder rattled the windowpane.

"I can't tame the storm, but I can shield you from more nightmares," he said.

Without waiting for her to collect herself enough for a response, Neil gathered her up and strode back to the bed. He laid her in the very middle and started feeling around in the dim light for the blanket. After a few seconds of looking, he took her hand, squeezed it, then dragged his knuckles down her body to her ankle, holding her loosely as he leaned over and grabbed it from the floor. That simple gesture was more reassuring than anything else, because it told her he truly understood how frightened she was, what being alone even for the seconds it took to find the blanket might feel like.

Seconds later he was propping himself up on her side of the bed, pulling her into his arms and draping the blanket around both of them.

"Thank you," she sniffled into the warmth of his chest.

"It about broke my heart to hear the fear in your voice." He pulled her closer for a few seconds as he said, "I promise you, we're both quite safe."

Christy nodded, but even as the truth of what he was saying hit her, she felt a second wave of tears threaten. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me!" she groaned, sitting up and burying her face into the blanket to sob.

"Oh, Christy- as awful as it is, I've seen this happen. You're being hit by what you set aside while you fought back."

She could barely hear him, caught up in a whirlwind of fear and guilt. Neil started to speak to her about carrying gear for the doctors from Scotland who'd sponsored his education. Outside, the storm intensified, and each time thunder boomed, Christy shook with renewed fear. Try as she might, she couldn't quite persuade herself it was just the storm and not black powder booby traps around the cabin. She sat next to Neil as she cried, and he rubbed circles of comfort along her back, his fingers sometimes straying up to snarl in her hair. The tug of those tangles and the sound of his voice both became her anchor to reality.

Finally the flood of tears abated. A hitching sort of relieved sigh escaped her, and Christy lifted her head. "I'm sorry. I haven't had a nightmare like that in a long time. Every loud noise just reminded me of that explosion."

"That'll fade as time passes," Neil told her, dragging his fingertips across her hair one last time before pulling his hand back. "I don't think less of you for it."

"I wish I could thank those doctors, the ones that helped you," Christy blurted out. All of her fear seemed to coalesce into a kind of nervous rush of gratitude.

"They saw something in me I barely saw in myself."

Thanks to Miss Alice she understood what that felt like, but Christy kept that sentiment to herself for now. Instead, she said, "You're a really good doctor, Neil, and with more than the hands-on part. You know just what to say."

"Not sure that can be attributed to my training," he said ruefully. "You saw it with Becky- give the person a voice to listen to, a narrative to follow. It's better than fussing about or demanding they stop being afraid."

Christy tried to picture David calmly sitting beside her as she cried. Knowing him, he'd charge off like a headstrong knight-errant to vanquish whatever it was that had upset her. Of course, that would leave her alone and miserable. She wiped off her tears with the blanket, unwilling to explain the source of her sudden amusement.

"We needed to wash that blanket anyway," he teased.

"You are a horrible man," she said, allowing herself to glare at him affectionately. Christy laid her head on his chest and cuddled close, glad to feel the steady beat of his heart. It reminded her of what she'd pictured that first night. Before that, she hadn't known how much she'd like sharing a bed, and now here she was, nestled up against Neil just as she'd thought. A yawn took her, and he brushed a light kiss on her forehead.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep? We're in swapped places, but I don't mind."

This felt very consequential for some reason, and she smiled a hidden smile against the fabric of his nightshirt. "I don't mind either."

Just then there was a blinding flash and a deafening crash of thunder, so loud that Christy was certain a tree had been destroyed right outside. Neil curled his body around hers as soon as it struck, but shortly after he sat up and slid his legs over the side in preparation to get up.

"I need to make sure nothing caught on fire. I'll turn up the lamp, but you must stay right here. If something's gone wrong I-" his voice faltered, and another flash of lightning illuminated the concern on his face as he turned to look out the window.

Along with that flash came understanding. He'd lost his first wife after an emotionally charged moment where he'd left her alone. That sense of loss and disaster was still real, even though at the time, her death hadn't been.

"I'll stay here, I promise," she said.

"Thank you." Neil searched out her hand on the bed and then squeezed it. He ripped off his nightshirt and pulled his arms through the first shirt he found, buttoning it as he headed for the stairs. After a few minutes of worry, she slipped out of bed to grab his sleep shirt to hold it close like a talisman.

She wanted to go stand by the window and see if she could see anything, but the worry that a tree branch might come through and harm her while Neil was out made her stay put.

Christy started to pray. The sound of the wind racing through the trees outside kept pulling her attention. Certain that God knew she also wanted Him to safeguard her husband, she shifted to praying for the children of the Cove, starting with the youngest and proceeding by age. It was a way to trick her mind into focusing on something other than the danger and the storm.

She began to pray aloud in an attempt to block out her increasingly frantic thoughts, mostly centered around losing babies. One of her most vivid memories was being taught as a very small child that the devil took every opportunity to shake a person's faith. Though she'd grown out of seeing Satan's hand in every bad thing, it was very easy to picture an invisible demon standing behind her feeding all manner of horrible things into her vulnerable mind.

What if Neil were struck by a falling tree, like Bob Allen had? They hadn't even consummated their marriage, so Christy wouldn't even have the bittersweet chance of carrying his child in his absence.

"No. I rebuke you!" she gritted out.

She was trying to channel an inner strength that came from faith, but horribly, it didn't feel like enough tonight.

Christy hugged her arms to herself. The space between the lightning flashes and the peals of thunder had finally started to widen. What she wanted was to throw on her robe and go out onto the porch to call for him, but she knew that when he said 'stay here,' he meant here, in the bedroom, fully out of danger. It was an agreement between them- he had to put himself in danger, so she needed to ensure her own safety. He trusted her faith in him would be enough to obey.

Kneeling beside the bed on Neil's side, she resumed her prayers, but for the first time she allowed herself to pray the one that felt the most important right now. Christy prayed for her husband's soul- not so he could avoid the fire and brimstone of hell, but for him to feel the same comfort as she felt when she trusted God.

oOoOoOo

At the first sign that he had returned, Christy got up and turned up the lamp. Please God, let nothing be wrong, she prayed yet again. "Neil?"

"I'm here," he called up. His footsteps on the stairs were slow and weary.

"Oh, Neil, you're completely soaked," she realized aloud, when he came in. Somehow she'd been picturing him dry and warm, a comforting image but very far from reality.

"It didn't let up the whole time I was out there," he said, shutting the door and slumping back against it. "No fire, but Charlie was spooked. I took some time with him, then did another circuit of the property." Neil tried to wipe his face off with his sleeve, but both face and sleeve were so wet it did no good.

There wasn't anywhere for him to sit but the bed, and all their towels were filthy; tomorrow was washing day. He looked so worn out that it was the most natural thing in the world to set her hands at his buttons again.

"Let me?" He just nodded.

The mood of the room changed as she undid the first button. Neil's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, but he left his hands at his sides as he rested against the door. Instead of hurrying, Christy felt compelled to kiss each patch of exposed skin as she revealed it. After the third button, Neil dropped his head back against the door, and she paused.

"Do you want me to stop?" she whispered.

"No."

Despite the strength of his response, she looked him over, uncertain. Neil's fists were clenched, his breathing was elevated, and his eyes were closed. "I'll trust you," she said, prompting a low, pleased noise from his throat.

Resuming her task felt charged with the same energy shooting out of the clouds outside. She was suddenly very aware of how little she was dressed. What would it feel like if Neil were the one unbuttoning her and kissing what he found underneath? Christy felt the heat from that thought, and not just in her face and neck.

She kept peeling the sodden shirt away from his chest and kissing his wet, warm skin, but the lower down she went, the more he tensed up. Christy recognized that her question and his answer had turned into something else, something sexual. She glanced up and found he was looking down at her, eyes dark with intensity. She held his gaze as she undid the last button, her own breaths quickening with anticipation.

To brace herself for that last kiss near his waistband, she set her hand on the center of his chest. The crinkled hair there defied the rain it was soaked with, providing a rough surface that sent a static charge zipping along her veins. She started to lean over, but Neil burst into action, catching her hand and pulling her up into a fierce kiss.

Before she knew it, they'd swapped positions. He lifted her up, supported by his hips against the door- and it felt so good she was the one struck by lightning and caught fire. Neil was kissing her desperately, lovingly, and she didn't care about the rain, the thunder, or the timing anymore. He slid one hand along her clothed leg toward her hip, and with his other, he dragged his thumb down her cheek to open her mouth for another swipe of his tongue. Christy let out a sound, and he pulled back to look at her.

With a rough grin, he said, "Still breathing?"

"Barely," she gasped. "Every time you do that I lose all rational thought. No wonder people are forced to marry!" He laughed, leaning his forehead against the door beside her. "Neil!"

"Don't be angry, it's just that your mix of curiosity and passion is a delight." His voice lowered to a caress as he leaned close to her ear; "It's better if you do it too."

"I- okay," she blinked.

They stared at each other for a long moment, long enough for her to truly feel the strength of his body pressed against her. Neil's eyes glinted, and he whispered, "Go on."

Christy's grip on his open, wet collar slipped in dismay, but then she tugged hard, pulling his head down to hers. His mouth was already open as their lips met, and the sizzle of that initial contact made her lose her nerve for a few seconds. Outside, thunder crashed, and in a burst of courage brought on by her frustration with the storm, she traced the inside of his lip, then mimicked his earlier action. Neil met every motion, sparking an intense longing deep in her gut. This was desire, wanton and glorious, and as his heart raced under her hand at his chest, she understood that he was as moved as she was.

A loud gust of wind rattled the window, and he gentled the kiss, easing her back to the floor so he could walk over and look out. It was Christy's turn to lean back on the door and want. Her nightgown was wet from rain transfer, and she felt simultaneously overdressed and completely vulnerable. Most of all she trusted him. Everything Amity had told her about intimacy was starting to come into focus.

"We get gusts like that toward the end of most storms," he said, turning her way. The light from the lamp edged him with gold as he slowly walked toward her, and Christy pushed off from the door when he got close.

"Let's get you out of this shirt," she said. Because it was so very wet, she knew she couldn't pull at the cuffs, so she took hold of both sides of the front and pulled them over his shoulders. Neil stood still, obviously curious about what she was up to, but when she walked around behind him, he seemed confused.

"What-" he started, the words cutting off suddenly when she tugged the wet shirt down far enough for her to kiss the part of his upper back that was uncovered. "Christy…" His voice was raw, and he trailed off when she stroked her hand along the rest of his back, pulling down more of the wet shirt.

"I'm sure you can take your wet clothes off much faster than this, if you want me to stop," she murmured.

He turned his head in her direction. "It's not the clothes, it's-"

"Proximity?" she offered. He chuckled, a deep, pleasant sound that pinged around inside her, sending shivers of pleasure as it went.

With a mighty effort, she dragged the rest of the shirt off of him and tossed it next to the door. Then she pressed herself against his back, sneaking her hands around to his chest.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered.

Neil rested his hands on hers. "You're slowly driving me mad, is what you're doing. It's a wonder any blood's left in my brain at all." Her face flamed, as she understood that reference thanks to the health books she'd read. "You're right, it's time to be rid of these."

He slid his hands down to his hips, and Christy backed up, knowing that the friction of his sodden clothes would mean he couldn't just shove them down and let them drop. He stripped everything else off, and when he straightened up she couldn't help but admire the tall, powerful figure he presented- all of him.

"Aren't you coming back?" Neil teased, raising his arms to give her the opportunity to snuggle up behind him again.

She did, if only because he'd gotten the front of her nightgown wet enough to provide a 'punishment' he'd have certainly forgotten about. He clearly had, as he laughed outright once she'd fitted herself up behind him and wrapped her arms around as before.

"I love you, little vixen!" Neil said, covering her hands with his. In a more serious tone, he added, "You said you trusted me before, will you trust me now?"

"Yes?" She spoke against his bare back, glad he couldn't see the creases of worry she could feel in her own forehead. What was he-

Slowly, and with a hold on her hand that she could easily slip out of, Neil started to slide her hand down along his body. She caught her breath as her fingertips brushed against the coarse hair of his groin.

He stopped.

"Neil, you're shaking," she whispered. Inside, she ached for… something.

"If you thought those kisses felt good, you have no idea- but I need-" He turned around, resting his hands on her cheeks to tip her head up toward him. "I wanted to take it slow, to show you have nothing to fear, but Christy, I need you, I don't think I can-"

She was already nodding her assent when Neil dipped his head and took her mouth in a desperate, almost brutal kiss. At the same time, he pulled up her nightdress, swirling his tongue against hers with every new fistful he dragged up. Christy was exhilarated by his intensity; it seemed to stem from the same desperate desire that threatened to devour her, too.

Finally he slid his hand fully across her bare behind and pulled her legs up to straddle him, only then walking over to the bed. The heat of his stomach against that very private part of her was enough for her to break the kiss and bury her face in his shoulder.

"Oh, please," she begged. The warm sound of agreement he made in response was gratifying, as was the gentle way he set her down beside the bed.

"Forgive me, but I'll rip them if I try," he said, nodding at the tiny buttons on her nightdress. Christy nodded and started on them, keeping her eyes on his instead of straying farther down. He added, "I promise to reciprocate sometime, but-"

Neil stopped talking when she turned around to pull her nightgown off, her own reciprocation of sorts. "I thought of that while I was undoing your buttons," she confessed.

"Good," he practically growled, kissing her shoulder. Neil stepped close, pressing himself flush against the back of her. She could feel every part of him, hot and vital and desperate. "Lay down? There's more to show you, but-"

"I'm not sure I could stay conscious for more," she teased, scrambling inelegantly onto the bed, her husband so close behind they almost didn't break contact. He stretched out beside her, kissing her neck before coaxing her to look at him with his fingertips. His voice shook a little.

"I love you, and I'll prove it another night when we're not-"

"-on fire?" she interrupted.

"Yes."

With that, he moved on top of her, his warm hand stroking down her leg to angle her the way he wanted. She was captured by his gaze the whole time, her heart racing. Something inside her yearned to be closer to him, and intellectually she knew what that meant. Neil thrust forward with a relieved groan, and she gasped, hands squeezing at his shoulders at the intrusion. There was pleasure there too, and she'd had warning for this- but Neil held still and dipped his head down for a kiss.

"Are you-" he started, but even as he spoke, he moved his hips. He sounded like he was almost in pain, so she stroked her hand through his wet hair and leaned up for another kiss. The action changed the angle of her hips, and that was it for him. He moaned her name and started to move faster, and with that movement came a growing pleasure so intense she had to close her eyes and throw her head back.

The next minutes were a blur of sensual intensity, not enough and far too much. Christy pulled his head down to kiss him in the midst of it, but both of them were so caught up that they just breathed each other's air for a while. Then something started building.

"Look at me," Neil commanded. She had to force her eyes open, but that connection unlocked something wonderful.

With her husband as her anchor, Christy came apart.

oOoOoOo

A while later, when they'd cleaned themselves up (with Neil's wet shirt, which meant neither of them had to leave the room. He'd claimed it was worth getting soaked for) and dressed in dry sleeping clothes, Christy snuggled up to her husband's chest and sighed.

"That doesn't sound like a good sigh," he observed.

"It's a school day tomorrow, and I've had almost no sleep," she said instinctively, only realizing afterward that his remark was possibly one of wounded pride. "Oh! It wasn't about- Not about that." Christy angled her head up to catch his eye. "I was really pleased to be that close to you."

He caught her lips in a brief kiss. "Me too." Neil rested his head back on the pillow. "We can always start earlier if you're worried about enough sleep."

His chuckle was deep and suggestive, and she pulled the blanket up over her face to hide just how much she blushed in response.