Sully had his Fall cattle show during the second week of November. He encouraged Michaela not to come out to that show because, of the two shows he had per year, this was the "boring" one. He explained that he wasn't going to bring his kids, either, because they wouldn't enjoy it. It was a simple buying and selling event that usually only ranchers and farmers came to. He also explained that if she wanted to attend, the large Spring show was the one to go to. Many of the town locals attended the Spring show because it wasn't just about buying and selling cattle. They had an arts and crafts fair, live music, food trucks, and a photo booth set up where parents could have pictures taken of their kids with a baby calf. The Fall show was also the smaller of the two shows and only lasted for two days. In contrast, when the time came, the Spring show would last for a week.
The Fall show took place on Saturday, which was roughly a week after their get-together at The Brew. Neither Sully nor Michaela mentioned the kiss since it happened, but they weren't avoiding each other either. They texted back and forth every night that week. Michaela asked him, via text, if he'd heard anything more from Hank's grandmother, and Sully said that there was no news from her.
On Sunday afternoon, after the show was over, and so was church, Sully gathered up a few calves and a couple of foals that he had and invited Michaela to bring the kids to his little petting zoo.
"Cow! Mama! Cow!" Brian cheered when he saw the small calves that Sully had gathered in one of the ranch corrals.
"Yes, Sweetheart, that's a cow," Michaela said as she held Brian on her hip, "It's a baby cow. A baby cow is called a calf. Can you say calf?"
"Calf!" Brian repeated happily.
"That's right," Michaela praised him, and then kissed his cheek.
Michaela and her children stood outside of the large corral that had animals inside, while Sully, his children, and Wolf stood inside.
"My cow!" Hanna said softly and hugged a small fuzzy brown calf.
Zachary didn't say anything but smiled as he petted the two small foals that were in the corral with the calves.
"You wanna come in and pet them, guys?" Sully asked Michaela's children.
"Yes!" Colleen and Matthew said in unison.
"Me too!" Brian said and struggled to get out of Michaela's arms. Michaela let him down, so he could go with his brother and sister to pet the animals.
Sully made sure the gate to the corral was wide open to let the kids in, "Be careful. It's muddy right there," Sully warned the kids as they came in.
Michaela's children joined Sully's, and each found a small animal that they could pet or hug.
Michaela walked to stand by Sully, who was leaning against one of the thick metal panels of the corral. She stayed on the outside and watched the children enjoy their time with the animals.
"Thank you for inviting us," Michaela said.
"My pleasure," Sully said, with a small grin, "You can come in too. The animals are real sweet and soft."
"I don't think I have the right shoes for it," Michaela explained.
Sully looked down and saw that she was wearing black pumps. She was wearing them with a loosely fitted blue pleated blouse with white flowers, and black twill skinny pants. She looked great, in Sully's opinion, but she was correct that her attire wasn't the best fit for being on a ranch.
As the two adults were standing next to each other, watching the kids play, Brian walked up to Sully and asked, "I take one home?"
"No, Sweetheart," Michaela said immediately.
Brian, intent on getting his way, ignored Michaela and asked Sully, "Peas!"
Sully stuck out his bottom lip at Michaela and said, "He said please."
"Good job using your manners, Brian," Michaela gave her son a compliment, then she looked at Sully, giving him the evil eye, and said, "The answer is still no."
Sully, amused with himself, smiled at Michaela and then crouched down, so he was at eye level with Brian, "They're babies still, so they gotta live with their mommies. Just like you gotta live with your mommy."
"I not a baby," Brian said, crossing his arms and earning a laugh from his mother.
"But you're still young and you need your mommy," Sully said, "They need their mommies too, so they hafta live here. You can come and visit them."
Brian nodded, looked at Michaela and said, "Mama, we get big cow!" Then he ran back to play, before Michaela could answer.
Sully laughed loudly and told Michaela, "Now you hafta get a cow, Mama."
"Sure, a nice stuffed animal," Michaela said playfully.
"Maybe you can come more often and he can visit with the cows," Sully suggested, with a smile.
"If we start that, then we could end up being here every day," Michaela warned him jovially.
"I wouldn't mind seein' you and the kids every day," Sully said, still smiling.
Michaela felt a shiver go down her spine and she wondered if Sully was still playing or was he being serious.
"Mommy, look at this one!," Colleen yelled as she stroked the fur of a sweet black and white calf.
Michaela smiled and walked a few paces to get a better look at the small calf. As she walked, she wasn't paying attention to the fact that the hard ground that she had been standing on, became soggy mud as she got closer to Colleen. Her heels sank into the ground, she lost her balance, and landed face first in the sloshy dirt.
Sully stood at his washing machine and set it to the gentle cycle. First, he tossed in Michaela's mud-stained clothes. Next, he felt his heart start to race when he put her bra and panties, made of black lace and silk, in a mesh lingerie bag and tossed it in as well. Now that he knew what she wore under her clothes, he wondered what else she had at home. His deviant side thought about asking her to put on a little fashion show for his eyes only, but his sensible side would never make that kind of request.
When Michaela fell in the watery mud, it not only left a stain on her clothes, even after she shook off the large clumps of wet dirt, but additionally, the moisture seeped through the garments, getting her skin and underwear dirty. So Sully offered to wash her clothes, and then loaned her his robe so she would have something to wear, after she took a shower.
Michaela sat on his bed, wrapped in his robe, and worked on squeezing out the excess water, from her hair, into one of his bath towels.
"Your clothes are in the wash," Sully announced, coming back into his bedroom.
"Thank you," Michaela said, with a sigh, "Everything I wore today has to be hung to dry. I don't know what I'm going to wear home."
"I got some pajama bottoms with a drawstring, and lotsa T-shirts," Sully offered, "It'll getcha home."
"Thank you," said Michaela, feeling a little tired, "Where are the children?"
"The older ones are upstairs in Zac's room," Sully said, and then showed her the baby monitor, "I'm listenin' out for the toddlers. They're in the livin' room playin' with blocks."
Michaela was still a little agitated from falling in the mud. When she was certain that she got as much water out of her hair as possible, she started looking around disjointedly.
"What're ya lookin' for?" Sully asked, wanting to calm her nerves.
"I don't have a mirror, but I think my hair's a mess," she told him and continued to look around, "I was sure I brought my purse in here."
Sully stepped out of his bedroom and went into the bathroom. He returned just a minute later with his hair brush and sat behind her on the bed. Michaela, who'd been facing away from him, started to turn around, "Just relax," he told her and nonverbally directed her to turn back the other way, "I think I saw your purse out in the livin' room earlier. I'm sure it's still there." Without having to be told what to do, Sully took hold of the bottom half of her long hair, and began running his brush through it. He was very careful to not pull too hard. He gently glided the brush through her damp hair, and untangled the strands. He made sure to work his way from the bottom up, so when he reached the top of her head, the brush would run smoothly through her hair.
Michaela felt goosebumps rising in her skin, and heat radiating down the middle of her back. She wasn't expecting him to brush her hair, though it did feel nice, and intimate.
She closed her eyes and had a vision of them in the future. They were in their own home, at night, and the children had already gone to bed. They sat in front of a large fireplace in their living room, and talked about the events that each of them experienced during that day, as he ran a brush through her hair.
She saw a small wooden cradle next to her, with a sleeping infant inside. She'd had a vision and a dream about her future with Sully before, and she'd never once gotten a good look at the baby; not when she saw herself holding a baby and not in her dream about the c-section. Deep inside, she felt like it was the same baby, but she still couldn't see it. She couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl, though in her dream about the c-section, Sully said they had a girl. She couldn't see what it looked like either. Nevertheless, she knew it was healthy; she could feel it.
"One thing is for certain," Sully said aloud, breaking her out of her trance, "We've gotta getcha some new clothes and new shoes."
"Why?" Michaela asked, thinking that was a funny thing for him to say.
"Somethin' fittin' to be on the ranch," Sully said, "I'd like to see ya here more often."
"What is fitting to wear on a ranch?" Michaela asked, curious now.
"A pair of jeans for starters," Sully said, "I've seen each of your kids wear jeans before, but not you."
"I do own a denim jacket, but no jeans," Michaela admitted, "I've never been one to wear blue jeans."
"I think jeans are good on a ranch," Sully said, "They are thick, and provide a lot of protection when you're dealin' with the animals. I've seen you in Olive's jeans, and trust me, they look good on ya. But if you're not one for jeans, maybe a pair of ridin' pants or hikin' pants. My father, Bradford, used to wear leather chaps sometimes. My father, Cloud Dancin', used to wear buckskins. I don't think ya need chaps or buckskins though."
"Have you ever worn chaps or buckskins?" Michaela asked, as he continued to glide his brush through her hair. She was feeling very relaxed now.
"Sure have," Sully said, smirking to himself, "I don't rodeo. No one in my family has ever been on the rodeo circuit, but I have ridden a bull. Chaps are good for bull ridin'."
"You have?" Michaela questioned. In all honesty, the only thing Michaela knew about bull riding was from a movie called 8 seconds that she watched when she was a child. The main bull rider died in that movie, "Isn't that dangerous?"
"It can be," Sully said with a chuckle, "It's not a habit of mine to ride the bulls, but it was a fun experience. To answer your other question, I've never had a reason to wear the buckskins, other than they were a gift from my parents. I'm not opposed to wearing them; they're sturdy work pants."
"I see, and what else do I need to wear on the ranch?" Michaela asked, genuinely interested in hearing what he had to say.
"Any shirt, made of sturdy fabric, should be okay... As long as it's somethin' that you're not afraid to get dirty," Sully said.
"I'm starting to notice that you want me in heavy and thick fabrics," Michaela said, "Is your plan to get me to work when I visit you?"
"No, Ma'am," Sully said with a laugh, "I want ya protected. I think it would be nice for us to have some fun on the ranch. Maybe ride horses, pet the animals, go fishin', go on a walk."
"Protection, huh?" Michaela questioned, with a smile on her face. Sully was still brushing her hair, though she was sure it was tangle free. She got the feeling that he was enjoying it as much as she was.
"Yes, protection," Sully answered, "Which brings me to your footwear. You should wear a pair of thick soled boots that you can walk in."
"The last thick soled pair of shoes that I owned was when I was twelve," Michaela said, "One of my sisters gave me a pair of black Mary Janes. They were platforms."
Sully chuckled when he heard that, "No platforms, and no four inch skinny high heels. Most of the men, myself included, wear leather work boots. Olive loves her Dr. Martens. She hates spendin' money on clothes. I think just about everything she owns she got from the Goodwill Store or the Salvation Army. The big exception to that is her shoes... Well, I don't think she gets her socks and underwear from a second hand store either, but I've never asked."
"I hope not," Michaela said with a bit of nervous laughter. The thought of wearing second hand socks and underwear was disgusting.
"You don't hafta get Dr. Martens," Sully added, "Any pair of walkin' boots or shoes, or ridin' boots, would work too."
"What about cowboy boots?" Michaela asked mischievously.
"You can if ya want," Sully said, "I think you'd look sexy dressed as a cowgirl."
Michaela bit her bottom lip and hoped she wasn't blushing.
"So," Sully said, as he finished brushing her hair, "What are your plans for Thanksgivin'? It's in a coupla weeks."
"I haven't thought about it yet," Michaela informed him, and turned around to face him, "What are your plans?"
"My mom is goin' to Vegas to spend it with my brother," Sully said, omitting her reasons for going. Daniel had told her of his latest financial venture involving renting out his cars, and Snowbird wanted to check it out first hand.
"Are you going too?" Michaela asked.
"Not this year," Sully explained, "So it will be just me and my kids, unless you wanna get together."
Michaela thought about it, and she did want to get together with him. She believed that it would be a nice experience for the children too, but there were issues. If they were going to have a large dinner in which everyone could sit together comfortably, her home would be the best place for it. She didn't mind having everyone in her home for dinner, she'd done it before, but she'd never cooked a Thanksgiving meal before. Even as a child, her Thanksgiving meals were prepared by family cooks, or caterers. Sully seemed like the kind of man that would want to prepare the meal himself.
"I think it would be nice to have dinner together," Michaela said, "The kids get along really well, and we get along really well..."
"I feel a but comin'," Sully commented.
"I think it would be best to have dinner at my house," Michaela informed him, "We would be able to sit comfortably around the table. I haven't put Brian in a highchair lately, I've been sitting him at the table in a booster seat. We can get one for Hanna as well."
"That suits me just fine," Sully said, a little perplexed, "I feel like there is still a problem, and I don't understand what it is."
"I've never cooked a Thanksgiving meal before," Michaela admitted.
"Oh," Sully said, relieved it wasn't something more serious, "That's no problem. We can do it together."
"Even cook a turkey?" Michaela asked, she felt that she could cook some of the side dishes, the easier ones.
"There ain't nothin' to cookin' a turkey," Sully informed her, "It looks more intimidatin' than it is. If we get a frozen turkey, then we hafta let it defrost for a coupla days. There are places in town where you can get a turkey that's never been frozen too. Either way, you just brine it overnight. When you're ready to cook it, you just butter the outside, add whatever spices you like, and put it in the oven. The oven does most of the work for ya."
Michaela had heard the word brine before. To her knowledge, brining a turkey was somewhat similar to marinating it. However, she was at a loss when it came to actually brining or marinating anything, "How do you brine a turkey?"
"Brine is a fancy word for soaking it. You soak the turkey in water, salt, and any other spices that you like," Sully said, "I like to add garlic, rosemary, thyme, pepper, a little bit of sugar and some cut-up shallots," Sully put his hand to his chest and said, "I can handle that, it ain't nothin' for you to fret about."
"What about the side dishes?" Michaela asked, "I've never cooked those either."
"We don't hafta cook every Thanksgivin' side dish known to man, we can just cook a few of our favorites," Sully said, "We can order a fresh pumpkin pie from my friend, Grace. I can supervise everythin', but I want your help with washin' and cuttin' up vegetables, measurin' ingredients, and other things like that."
"Certainly," Michaela said. Her nerves about cooking Thanksgiving dinner were relaxing.
"That reminds me, while you're here, I need your help with somethin' else," Sully said, as he quickly got up from his bed and left. He returned with a packet of paper and handed it to Michaela.
Michaela looked over the packet, and realized that she'd seen it before, because Matthew had the same assignment. The sixth grade students were assigned The Giver at school. For homework, they had to answer several discussion questions, and write a one-thousand word book report. Michaela looked through the packet and discovered that Zachary hadn't even started yet. The assignment was due the Friday before the kids left for Thanksgiving Break, which meant that he had five days to get it done.
"Matthew has completed this already," Michaela informed him, "The Giver is a very simple book, written for children his age. The majority of the help that Matthew needed was defining and understanding the vocabulary words."
"I've been helpin' Zac as much as I can," Sully said, "We've been readin' it together. I can help him answer the simple questions, but I don't understand harder ones, and it's too close to the due date to get him a tutor."
Michaela thought that the majority of the questions were fairly easy and straightforward. Like she told Sully, Matthew needed help with the vocabulary more than anything else. The most difficult part was finding a computer so Matthew could type his book report. They only had tablets at home, and Michaela had to bring him to her office, so he could type it and print it there. At the school in Boston, the students had to submit everything electronically, so nothing had to be printed. All she needed to do was attach a keyboard to his iPad, if he was assigned an essay. She concluded, when she saw the assignment, that she would need to invest in a laptop and printer.
"Can you give me an example of a harder question?" Michaela asked, careful not to insult Sully.
"Question twelve," Sully answered off the top of his head.
Michaela scanned the packet and found question number twelve. She read aloud, "How does The Giver complicate the differences between utopia and dystopia?" She looked up at Sully and said, "That's very simple."
Sully smiled and shook his head at her, "Darlin', I can tell ya about cookin' Thanksgivin' dinner, I can tell ya about baseball, horses, cattle, dogs, carpentry, car maintenance, construction, business on the ranch, a little bit about the Cheyenne Indians, but I don't understand that question. I do my best to help Zac with his homework. Google helps a lot with that, but nah... I have a feelin' that you know a lot about that kind of stuff. You're real smart."
Michaela smiled at him. She was touched that he thought she was smart and that he sought her advice. She was smart. She had a very good memory and a strong work ethic. Those two things and an abundance of family support helped her earn a High School Diploma in three years, a Bachelor's Degree in three years, and helped her finish medical school in three years. Once she was done with residency, she was able to start practicing medicine at age 26. The average person started practicing at age 29.
She didn't necessarily see herself as smarter than Sully. She was highly educated with a medical degree and was licensed in more than one area of medicine. He had a High School Diploma and a few college business courses that he said he only took to help him make more informed decisions on the ranch. Yet, she didn't look down on him. Though she had a vast amount of knowledge when it came to some things, she had very little knowledge about the things that he'd just mentioned.
"Do you know what a utopia or a dystopia is?" Michaela asked.
"The last time I heard those words was when I didn't read Brave New World in High School," Sully said.
"You didn't read it?" Michaela asked, almost flabbergasted, "You mean you didn't do your assignment?"
"Nope," Sully said, chuckling at the look on her face.
"Were you tested on it?" she questioned.
"Probably," he answered with a shrug, "I don't remember."
"What kind of a grade did you get?" she questioned.
"I usually got Cs in English," Sully admitted. Then he started laughing when he saw Michaela's eyes grow very big.
"I'm pleased that you want your son to complete his assignments," Michaela said, resisting the urge to have a stern talk with him about the importance of completing his studies. High School was a long time ago, there was no sense in lecturing him about it now, "I think we can start with the meaning of utopia and dystopia and go from there."
"Sounds good to me," Sully said.
A week had passed, and it was now Monday and the beginning of Thanksgiving Break. The kids were home from school, but Michaela was at work. She decided to keep the office open on Monday and Tuesday, but would close on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.
The news reported that there was a big storm coming that would likely result in a tornado. Michaela had never experienced a tornado and was a little scared, so Sully offered to board up her windows with plywood. He also explained that it would be a good idea to put storm shutters on her house for protection.
Sully came over in the morning, after Michaela left for work, and started boarding up the windows.
"Good mornin', Sully," Dorothy came outside to greet him, as he measured the front windows.
"Mornin', Miss Dorothy," Sully said politely, and continued to work.
"Are you and Michaela seein' each other now?" Dorothy asked frankly, "She hasn't said." Michaela also hadn't said anything about her Thanksgiving plans, but the children let that cat out of the bag to Dorothy that morning. Dorothy was simply curious about the direction of their relationship.
Sully thought about her question for a moment. In reality, Sully felt that he and Michaela were more than just friends now. However, they had not officially defined what they were to one another. They also hadn't discussed the kiss and they hadn't kissed again, so Sully told Dorothy the truth as he understood it in that moment, "We're seein' each other as friends."
"You're an awfully good friend, Sully," Dorothy said, nodding to a pile of plywood and his tools in the yard. She didn't think he was lying, but she felt that he was likely holding a few things back, "The kids are dyin' to come out and say hello. I just don't think it's safe with all of you're power tools outside."
"You tell them that I'll come inside and say hello when I'm done," said Sully.
"How are Zachary and Hanna?" Dorothy asked, "Are they at the ranch?"
"Zachary is," Sully said, "He's probably still in bed. Hanna's at the pre-school, but I'm plannin' to pick her up early."
"Are ya gonna take them to see Loren on Thanksgivin'?" Dorothy asked, though she knew the answer.
"If he calls and asks me to bring them by, then I will," Sully said, growing tired of this same old conversation.
"You know he's not gonna do that," she commented.
"If he don't ask, then how am I supposed to know that he wants to see them?" Sully remarked, a little curtly, "I'm not a mind reader."
"You're bein' stubborn on purpose," Dorothy accused, "I know you're irritated with Loren, and probably a little exhausted, but I've never known you to be childish, Sully."
Sully looked up and was about to answer, but stopped. Dorothy was standing just right. She wasn't wearing a sweater, despite the cool weather, and he could see a large bruise on her arm, peeking out from under her short sleeved shirt, "What's that?"
"What's what?" she asked.
Sully put down his tools and approached Dorothy. He ran his hand down her upper arm, causing Dorothy to wince in pain. The injury was clearly still sore, "That!" he said tersely.
"I, I," Dorothy stuttered anxiously, "I ran into-"
"His fist?" Sully finished her sentence, then he walked away from her and started to walk towards his truck.
"Where are you goin'?" Dorothy asked in a panic.
"I'm goin' to your house!" Sully announced loudly, "I'm gonna teach Marcus some manners!"
"Sully!" she yelled and ran after him before he reached his truck. She put her arms around his waist and burst into tears, "It was my fault! Please don't go, please don't do anything. It was my fault! I know not to bother him when he's been drinkin', please don't do anything! You can't go anyway, you have to finish the windows."
"It ain't gonna take me that long to set him straight!" Sully responded.
"Please don't go!" Dorothy begged, starting to cry hysterically.
Sully sighed and his demeanor softened. He put his arms around Dorothy and held her while she sobbed, "How long are ya gonna put up with this?" He calmly demanded to know, "This ain't right, Miss Dorothy."
"Please don't go," Dorothy cried into his shoulder.
"I won't go," he said, mostly to calm her down, "But I'm warnin' ya now, If I see another bruise, I'm gonna call the police."
"It won't happen again," she told him, "I won't let it happen. I'll stay away from him if he's drunk."
Sully sighed and rolled his eyes as he held Dorothy. He remembered a conversation that he once had with Abagail. She confided in him that even when Hank was at his lowest, and completely wasted, he yelled at her and Zachary, but he never raised his hands to them. This led Sully to believe that Marcus was just a jerk. The alcohol likely made it worse, but he was probably abusive without it.
"He ain't half a man," Sully whispered in Dorothy's ear, "A man doesn't beat his wife, his children, or any livin' thing. You don't deserve this," Sully decided that perhaps it was time to try and reach out to Loren again. He couldn't stay quiet on this.
To be continued. Please review and tell me your thoughts. I love reading your thoughts.
Thank you for reading!