Colleen felt the cool night air against her cheek, as she opened her eyes. She'd been tossing and turning for the last few minutes, before eventually giving up and pushing the blankets from her chest. The homestead was silent, except for the gentle sighing sound Brian made when he was in a deep sleep.
Sitting up carefully, she swung her legs down to the cold floorboards and pulled herself to her feet. Carefully pushing the curtain aside just enough to slip through it, the young girl was relieved to find the fire burnt-out, Michaela appearing fast asleep for a change.
Colleen's mouth twitching slightly, she crossed the room, arriving less than a foot from her mother's bedside, ensuring that she was, in fact, asleep. Eyes locking on Michaela's peacefully sleeping form, Colleen emitted a silent sigh. Maybe she had been too hard on her.
Noticing the quilt bunched around her waist, Colleen leant forwards, tenderly dragging the soft linen upwards, repositioning it over Michaela's shoulders, glad she had not disturbed her.
She continued to stare down at her for several moments, the moonlight illuminating Michaela's face just enough for Colleen to appreciate the serenity of her expression. Her eyes were gently closed, her mouth slightly open, her fine, long hair spread evenly over each shoulder.
It was at that moment that Colleen felt realization dawn on her. Despite her tough, competent exterior, her mother was as fallible as anyone else. The young girl was reminded of the moment she'd first taken in the extent of Michaela's injuries; over three and a half months ago when Hank had laid her unconscious body upon the examination table in front of them. In the time that had passed, Colleen realized Michaela had struggled to renew that confidence and security and that it was now slipping from her control all over again.
Drawing her gaze away, Colleen circled the homestead several times, sleep seeming a long way off. Her eyes focusing on the rocking chair beside the fireplace, the young girl reached for the colorful blanket, before taking her seat and draping it over her legs and torso.
Looking back to ensure Michaela was still soundly asleep, Colleen relaxed her shoulders and back against the wooden chair, her eyes dropping closed as her mind digested the revelations of the day gone by.
Remembering her biting words over supper, Colleen felt guilty. She'd reacted purely to the evidence before her; that Michaela was trying desperately to put an end to this pregnancy. Crossing her ankles and settling her hands on the arms of the chair, Colleen grappled with the complex dilemma. But killing another person was wrong, no matter what. And killing an unborn child was the same as killing a person. Colleen knew in the depths of her heart that this was a sin. She was also confronted with the realization that Michaela probably felt exactly the same way. So why was her mother doing this? So, this child would be part Indian. Colleen knew Michaela had no such racial prejudices that would prevent her from loving the baby, after all, she'd been prepared to adopt the cowboy's baby, and this was her own child.
Colleen opened her eyes to tuck the blanket tighter around her body. She momentarily turned to check that Michaela was still asleep, before returning to her thoughts.
The young girl knew instinctively that somehow, no matter what, Michaela had to love this child. She let her eyes fall closed once again, and for the first time in a long time, pictured Charlotte. Colleen knew how her mother felt about the gift of life, the miracle of pregnancy, however she also knew that her mother would have been supportive of any woman in this situation; but never to the extent that she would condone such destruction.
Nodding her head in decision, Colleen realized she had to approach this in the manner she believed her mother would have. She had to try to the best of her ability to make sure Michaela didn't push herself too hard, but at the same time, try and get Michaela to face up to the reality within her. She knew the latter part would prove the most challenging.
~.~
X.O.X
Monday, 9th August, 1869
One Day Later – 16 Weeks Gestation
X.O.X
~.~
Grace finished tucking her blouse back neatly into her skirt, as Michaela dropped instruments into a bowl of alcohol.
"So, there's nothing I can do?" Grace wiped the nervous perspiration from her left temple, ensuring she was suitably redressed to leave.
"I'm unable to find any medical explanation for your inability to conceive, Grace. However, I'd like you to start keeping a record of your monthlies, each month, and we can review." Michaela updated Grace's file, making a note of what they discussed, as well as the examination she'd carried out, before closing the chart, and filing it back in the cabinet.
"All right, Dr Mike, if you say so. Just seems like every month keeps coming by and," Grace nodded her head, conveying her meaning as several tear drops ran down from each eye.
"I'm afraid there's not really any easy solution, Grace. I'm sorry." Michaela's voice was direct, a tinge of bitterness audible in her final apology. She wasn't sorry. She was envious.
"I guess it's like what Robert E. says when God thinks it's time, we'll be blessed," Grace consoled herself, dabbing ineffectively at her eyes, before slipping down from the edge of the examination table, crossing the room and opening the door.
"I'll see you again in a few months, Dr Mike?" Grace turned, expecting a quick reply. Michaela seemed a million miles away, unresponsive to the sound of her friend's voice.
"Dr Mike?" Grace reiterated, getting an instant reply.
"Oh, yes, that will be fine, Grace," Michaela drifted off, hearing the door close as Grace left the room.
Bringing her palms to her cheeks, as she inhaled deeply, Michaela turned and gazed out through the window onto the street. Horace and Myra were making their way down from the telegraph office, arms clutched together excitedly.
"Myra, honey, you sure you don't wanna go in by yourself?" Horace rested his arm supportively around her waist, as the pair continued walking alongside the edge of the main street.
"Course not, Horace. Want you there with me. It's your baby as much as mine. 'Sides, if anything was wrong, don't think I could bear to hear it alone," Myra cringed, immediately dismissing the concern as Horace squeezed her right hand.
"Now don't you go talkin' like that. Everything's gonna be fine, just routine, you'll see." Horace reassured, as they stepped onto the porch of the Clinic, Horace sensitively ensuring Myra was seated on the bench comfortably before ringing the doorbell.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"He's sweet on you, you know it," Becky pulled excitedly on Colleen's left arm, the two girls disappearing around the back of the schoolhouse, lunch tins in hand.
"Becky," Colleen giggled, her cheeks flushed bright red. The two best friends took their seats on the edge of a fallen log.
"Oh, don't you go denying it. The way he stroked your hand, lookin' deep into your eyes when he asked you to marry him. That weren't just actin'," Becky continued, her voice taking on a lilting, dreamlike quality.
"I dunno. Guess he is kinda cute, and he's into science and all," Colleen frowned, for the first time considering that Lewis' affections may go deeper than dramatic skill.
"And you know he cares 'bout ya. Came and visited ya when you were sick last year, brought ya flowers and all," Becky prodded, tickling Colleen in the ribs excitedly.
"Aw, all right, all right. Maybe I'll," Colleen pouted her lips in a concentrated thought.
"Maybe you could see if he wants to have some, private rehearsals, before Saturday," Becky giggled ecstatically.
"Becky! That's, that's a really good idea," Colleen raised her chin slightly, her cheeks tightening into an anticipatory smile.
"Told ya, 'sides you need something to look forward to. Had a face as long as a stallion for weeks now. Gotta do some things you wanna do," Becky turned her attention to her lunch tin, opened it and unwrapped her sandwich.
"Yeah, just everything's been goin' on at home, moving from one problem to the next, Becky," Colleen cut her phrase off abruptly, hanging her head, wincing as she fought the moral dilemma before her.
"What? What is it?" The young girl swallowed the food in her mouth, lowering the sandwich against her lunch tin and moving her head slowly towards her friend.
"Just, I don't know what to do! Becky, if, you knew someone was doin' somethin' that you thought was wrong, do you just let it happen, or try and say somethin'," Colleen reached for the metal tin by her feet, opening it slowly and waiting for a response.
"Depends what it is. How wrong?" Becky pondered, taking another small bite from her sandwich.
"Real wrong. Like somethin' that's against God's will," Colleen's teeth found the edge of her lower lip, her fingers clasping the corners of her lunch tin nervously.
"If it's somethin' that bad then ya oughta tell the Reverend," Becky's eyes lit up brightly, the petrified concern evidence in her blue eyes.
"I, I can't. Ain't somethin' I can just talk about. It's, just somethin' I know is wrong." Colleen placed her lunch tin back on the ground by her feet, smoothing out her skirt over her knees; she'd lost her appetite.
"Then maybe ya oughta talk to the person who's doing it. Brian? Coz if it's Brian ya can just tell Dr Mike, can't ya?" Becky finished her sandwich, the seriousness of Colleen's situation not having sunk in.
"Ain't Brian, but you're right, Becky, just gonna have to talk about it. Have it out," Colleen nodded thoughtfully, her gaze drifting off towards the nearby forest.
~.~
X.O.X
Tuesday, 10th August, 1869
One Day Later – 16 Weeks Gestation
X.O.X
~.~
"Brian, you've already had seven pancakes, you're gonna burst," Colleen raised her left eyebrow, letting a soft sigh drift from her lips as she pulled the large china platter across the table. Brian eagerly emptied the contents onto his plate.
"Hey, there are other people at this table besides you. Don't be so greedy," The girl slapped her younger brother's arm softly, Matthew nodding in support. Brian leaned the fork against the edge of the dish, looking quickly around the table.
"Ma?" Brian offered, his reluctance more than obvious. Michaela took more than several moments to lift her head from her hand, and again another few seconds to comprehend his question before shrugging dismissively.
"You go ahead, sweetheart," she smiled weakly, moving the fork unenthusiastically around the mostly untouched food still on her plate, having attempted to elude the older children by simply rearranging the eggs and bacon somewhat.
"First dress rehearsal tomorrow. Brian, you finally got that scene with Lewis down yet?" Colleen cut the piece of bacon neatly into several pieces, alternating her glance between her plate and her younger brother.
"Think so. Just hope I don't accidentally kick him, like I did yesterday," Brian covered his hand over his mouth, chuckling in childlike embarrassment, Colleen rolling her eyes, however a genuine smile breaking out across her face.
"What's this?" Matthew pulled the biscuit in half, chewing on a mouthful as he looked eagerly between his two siblings.
"This scene right near the end of the play, Brian and Lewis get into this fight and Brian has to kick Lewis in the stomach to knock him down, except," Colleen tightened her mouth, turning to Brian, just to embarrass him.
"Except I, ermm, missed," Matthew watched Brian's face redden, the older boy breaking into uncontrollable fits of laughter, Colleen joining him immediately.
"You shoulda seen Lewis' face. He hit the ground, curled up in this tiny ball," Colleen continued explaining the events from the rest of the rehearsal, all three children completely captivated by the painfully humorous anecdote, their laughter only encouraging Brian to continue talking.
Michaela looked slowly between each of her children's faces; she could see the sparkling of their eyes, and hear Matthew's hearty chuckle fill the room, knowing in that instant what she had to do. She couldn't bear to consider what such a scandal would do to the children she already had. Drawing a decisive breath, Michaela placed the fork down beside her plate; she knew what her only option was.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Good afternoon, Horace," Michaela stepped into the dim office, placing her hands delicately on the edge of the desk, waiting for him to finish the telegram he was writing.
"Afternoon Dr Mike. Ah, yes just a," he began fishing keenly through the newly arrived mail pouch, eventually finding the sought after envelope, displaying it proudly before her. "Yes, knew I had a letter for ya," Michaela took the letter, paying little attention to the return address, having far more serious concerns at that moment.
"Thank-you. Horace, might you book me a seat on next Monday's stage," Michaela folded the letter in her hands, Horace taking several moments to digest her words.
"Oh sure, ah, goin' somewhere, Dr Mike?" He fumbled momentarily with some paper, moistening the pencil he'd just taken from behind his right ear, and scribbling the details down.
"I need to get some surgical supplies from Denver," Michaela tapped her fingertips silently on the countertop, not appreciating the interrogation.
"Right, no problem, Dr Mike. When you be wantin' the stage back?" Horace, looked up, assuming this would be a routine trip.
"I, I'm not sure how long I'll be. Don't worry about it Horace, I'll organize it from there. Thank-you," Michaela adjusted her weight awkwardly, her mouth going dry having just vocalized her decision for the first time.
"Not a problem, Dr Mike. Have a good day, now," he smiled cheerfully, slipping the paper carefully into its ordered place on the desk.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Somethin' I can help you with there?" Loren rested his arm over the edge of the counter, watching as Sully strode aimlessly around the store, the Wolf sitting obediently by the front door.
"No, just lookin', Loren. Waitin' for Dr Mike to finish," Sully gestured over towards the Clinic, his attention diverting back to the assortment of tools and other farming equipment along the back wall.
"If you're sure," Loren nodded thoughtfully, his fingernails grazing against the wooden counter.
"Ah, Sully, well," Loren looked around nervously, checking that Dorothy was still upstairs cleaning, before pacing around from behind the counter to cross the room. Sully's attention was obtained immediately by Loren's awkwardness.
"Somethin' on ya mind, Loren?" The younger man folded his arms tightly, seeing the store owner's forehead wrinkle into an uncomfortable frown.
"Now, you're gonna say it ain't my place and all, and maybe you're right but well, just haven't had a chance to speak to ya 'bout somethin' I felt was kinda important," Loren's voice was becoming huskier, indicative of his ill ease.
"Loren, whatever it is, just," Sully moved his arms forwards from his chest, shifting his weight to his right leg, sensing this was going to be a significant conversation.
"Well, people 'round here been talkin', ya know. I mean, on the surface it don't seem like nothin' but workin' in here every day, you get to hear things. Well, anyway, I was just wonderin'. You and Dr Mike; Dorothy was mumblin' some nonsense at me a while back and ah, thing is ah, suppose I was just wantin' to put a stop to all the talk," Loren pushed his hands deep into his trouser pockets, thoroughly uncomfortable about having to have this conversation with the man who was once his son-in-law.
"What talk, Loren?" Sully's eyes grew heavy and dark, immediately preparing himself to jump to whosever defense was necessary.
"'Bout you and Dr Mike. You still serious 'bout marryin' her?" Loren looked away, having eventually managed to get the question out.
Sully scuffed his feet along the ground for several moments, trying to decide on a course of action, before realizing he had nothing to hide. "Sounds like you reckon I oughtn't be?"
Loren let the lids of his eyes drop down ever so slightly, his hands reappearing from his pockets and extending forwards in denial.
"Aw, I ain't sayin' that. Just, well, suppose it'd be best if it's you, ain't it," The older man hung his head thoughtfully. Realizing that his final remark had the potential to cause offence, he quickly continued: "Just what with all the gossip 'round here, think it'd be worth considering. Now, I know it's none a my business, but, I care 'bout Dr Mike. Don't like havin' to hear all the snide remarks, 'bout her bein' shamed and don't like seein' the way all the women huddle together, feelin' sorry for her, actin' like she ain't ever gonna be able to have a normal life again," Loren sighed heavily, coughing slightly to distract from the emotion that had overcome him.
Sully moved his head only a fraction of an inch to the right, his eyes darting uncertainly between Loren's downcast face and the floor, struggling to make sense of the older man's motivation.
"You don't have to worry 'bout that, Loren. I'm doin' what I can, just takes time. Ain't somethin' she's ready for just yet, not sure I am either," Sully blinked several times, at a loss to where the conversation seemed to be going.
"I know you marryin' Abigail weren't what I wanted at the time. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to let you know that I, I knew you made her very happy. That's probably what I resented the most. Before you, my little girl only looked up to me. I was the person she came cryin' to when she'd, skin her knee, when some lout'd pull her hair," Loren had stopped attempting to control the moisture slowly trickling from his eyes. "I weren't ready to stop being the one she turned to. Suppose what I'm tryin' to say is, maybe weren't just that she married you, was probably just that I lost her and then, I lost her before I had the chance to find her again." Loren's fingers clenched against his hands, Sully taking a step forwards to rest his hand supportively on the older man's shoulder, their heads lowered in a long, reflective silence.
Sully remained quiet, his thoughts having paralleled Loren's but with a very different connotation.
"Understand, Loren. I think I understood that a long time ago. But you don't gotta feel like you needa protect Dr Mike like you wanted to Abigail." Sully watched Loren pull the handkerchief from his vest, dabbing absently at the remnants of tears on his face.
"I know. I know it ain't the same, but still don't like havin' to stand by. I know she's gotta be findin' it tough, 'course she's too proud to admit it. Think any woman'd want her father around when she's hurtin'. Think it's only natural, no matter how old you are," Loren saw the empathy on Sully's face, pulling himself together quickly and straightening his vest habitually.
"You're right but we're there, Loren. We're all doin' what we can. Between me, the children, Dorothy, you, Michaela knows she's got a family here. She knows this is her home." Sully looked up momentarily to see the door of the Clinic open, gesturing his hand in that direction, Loren turned, the two men watching in silence as Michaela stepped onto the porch.
"Here," Loren turned away, seeing Colleen and Brian come running from the schoolhouse.
Turning and taking several steps back to the counter, he busied himself in slipping some gumdrops and licorice buttons into a piece of brown paper, handing it to Sully.
"Boy's the closest thing I'll ever get to a grandson," Loren smiled, gazing into the distance as Brian engulfed Michaela in a tight hug, Sully nodding, before doing likewise, the two men breaking apart after several moments.
"And you're the closest thing Michaela's got to a father, now. Time for things to start over, wouldn't you say?" Sully tapped his thigh, the Wolf running to his side.
"I'd surely say so," Loren whispered, Sully and the Wolf making their way out onto the porch of the store, the older man watching the gathering continue, Brian's face lighting up when Sully presented him with the candy.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Come on, just one more? Please?" Brian begged excitedly as Michaela and Colleen finished the dishes.
Sully looked up questioningly; stroking the Wolf's head, the animal remaining comfortably sprawled in front of the fireplace.
"One more, then it's time for bed," Michaela sighed, Colleen quickly taking the stack of plates from her.
"Go on, sit with Brian," The young girl kept her voice hushed, having spent the evening shadowing Michaela, taking laundry, water buckets, and now crockery from her every chance she got. She might not have the courage to confront her about it directly, but she could certainly watch her every move indirectly.
"Which song ya wanna sing now, Brian?" Sully smiled, as Michaela took her seat beside him, the young boy deep in thought, deliberately pondering the question, so as to draw out the time before he would have to go to bed.
"How about, about Old MacDonald," Brian sat, the chair turned backwards against the edge of the table, Matthew sitting opposite him, rolling his eyes with a sigh.
"Aw, Brian," The older boy cringed, this only encouraging Brian further, launching into immediate song.
"Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O," Brian commenced, Sully very quietly humming along under his breath; singing was not his strong point.
"And on his farm he had a cow, E-I-E-I-O" Colleen finished stacking the plates back on the shelf, removing her apron and folding it neatly as she took her seat near Matthew.
"With a moo-moo here and a moo-moo there," Brian puckered his lips his cheeks, inflating as he made mooing noises at everyone.
"Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo, Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O," Sully raised an eyebrow at the one person who had still refused to join in the singing.
"Your turn. A horse," Sully smirked in Michaela's direction, who responded by rolling her eyes and reluctantly opening her mouth.
"Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O and on his farm he had a horse, E-I-E-I-O," Michaela blushed, bringing her hands to her face, Brian giggling in encouragement.
"Go on, Ma, ya gotta do the 'neigh'," Brian pushed his chair closer towards the table, his excitement bubbling across the room.
"With a 'neigh' here and a 'neigh' there," Michaela dropped her voice to a non-pitched utterance, at each "neigh", Sully clapping his hands, not convinced.
"Nah, I'm sorry, that don't sound like no horse I've ever heard. Anyone think that sounded like a horse?" Sully teased, the three children giggling in agreement.
"Nope, come on Ma, you can do a proper 'neigh', neeeeeiighhhh" Brian took a deep breath, shaking his head as he demonstrated a more 'horse-sounding' neigh.
"Neeiiighh," Michaela repeated, mimicking her son more enthusiastically. Sully flashed an approving smile, reaching discreetly under the table to take her hand, Michaela gesturing for everyone to complete the verse together.
"With a neigh here, and a neigh there, here a neigh, there a neigh, everywhere a neigh-neigh, With a moo here, and a moo there, here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo, Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O," Colleen looked from Matthew to Brian as the five of them finished the second verse, Michaela butting in quickly before Brian had the chance.
"All right, mister, 'that-don't-sound-like-no-horse-I've-ever-heard'. It's your turn," she coerced, feeling his fingers slide over the back of her hand.
Colleen smiled as Sully shrugged confidently, looking around the room for a moment before clearing his throat and beginning the third verse.
"Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O and on his farm he had a wolf, E-I-E-I-O," Sully tapped his knee under the table, the Wolf raising his head and getting to his feet.
"With a," Sully turned quickly, directing the animal into a long, high-pitched howl, this continuing as he worked through the song. "And a… there. Here a…, there a…, everywhere a," Brian had begun rocking back and forth on his turned around chair, his childlike glee at it's pinnacle, as the Wolf obediently vocalized each howl.
Michaela's jaw widened, feeling somewhat cheated.
"You can't just get Wolf to, not after you made me." She was flabbergast in her objection. Sully turned the corner of his mouth up, continuing to chuckle under his breath.
"I don't needa howl like a Wolf, brought my own," His tongue moved against the insides of his cheeks, knowing exactly how self-righteously Michaela would react, and relishing every moment of it.
"With a neigh here, and a neigh there, here a neigh, there a neigh, everywhere a neigh-neigh, With a moo here, and a moo there, here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo, Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O," Brian, Colleen and Matthew finished the song, Michaela having recovered from her slight humiliation.
"Right, time for bed." She watched Brian's face drop predictably, the young boy slouching in his chair. Matthew sensed the routine bedtime aversion immediately, wishing everyone a good night and heading for the barn.
"Do I gotta? Sully's still here," he moaned, Colleen standing and pushing her chair back under the table, going to Michaela's defense instantly.
"That don't make any difference, Sully's older than you," The young girl directed her brother towards his bed, Michaela turning her head swiftly at the girl's assistance.
"Thank-you, Colleen," she muttered genuinely, the young girl shrugging the gratitude off, having ulterior motives.
"Sooner he gets to bed, you get to bed." She held her gaze just long enough for Michaela to work through her meaning.
"I'll, ah, see you in the morning," Michaela turned back to efficiently rearrange the disordered chairs neatly back under the table, Sully looking between the children's departing forms and back to Michaela.
"Since when's she gotten all overprotective?" Sully crossed his arms, Michaela leading them out towards the front porch, Sully settling himself down on the porch, tapping the step lightly to his right.
"Oh, just since the weekend. With Brian being so upset," Michaela quickly tried to dismiss the issue. Taking her seat beside him, Michaela sensed what was coming.
"And what about you? Ankle all better?" He teasingly reached for the hem of her skirt, Michaela baulking from his familiarity, settling her hands deceptively in her lap.
"It's fine," she replied curtly, her mind wandering as she gazed out into the dark surroundings.
Sully nodded, sliding several inches towards her, his left hand settling on her right shoulder, moving his chin forwards slightly to nuzzle her neck.
"Sully," she objected automatically, visibly shrinking from his touch.
"Sorry, I thought." He looked her up and down curiously, aware that privacy was more of an issue now; however, they had that.
"I, I'm sorry." She let her breathing regulate for several moments, feeling torn between emotional desires and physical precautions.
"Michaela, don't gotta be sorry, you've been sayin' that for days now. If you wanna wait, we'll wait. Just gotta tell me," Sully took her left hand again in his right, Michaela felt the tingling return to her arms.
"I don't, it's not that. Sully, when you told Brian we were courting again, I, when you talked about us having a future, did you mean?" She felt his finger brush against her lips softly, his eyes sparkling as he answered her.
"Michaela, what I said to both you and Brian, I meant. I don't want you frettin' about what's going to happen tomorrow, next week, next year, all that's important is now. Right here." He trailed his fingertips over the smooth skin on the back of her hand, Michaela looking from their joined hands back out into the night sky.
"But I can't help worrying, about what's going to happen. I feel like I can't predict one day ahead of myself any longer and it scares me," Michaela knew they were talking about totally different things. However, she also knew, she had to attend to one problem at a time; she could pick up the pieces after she arrived home, that would be the easy part.
"I know but you don't gotta worry about you and me. I ain't goin' nowhere, and I ain't wantin' to rush into anythin', until you're ready," Sully felt Michaela's arm brush his, realizing quite to his surprise that she'd closed the gap between them.
"How, how do I know?" She shook her head slightly, feeling his shoulder press against hers, feeling the warmth from his skin radiate through the thin fabric of his shirt.
"You'll know, you'll just," Sully turned, realizing she'd been studying the closeness of his shoulder to hers, his eyes finding hers, as he rotated his upper body, severing the physical contact that had previously existed.
Michaela felt her mouth move, slightly dismayed as his shoulder pulled away from hers. Studying his serenely content expression, she felt the warmth of his breath strike her cheek, not realizing the increasing sensation was due to the fact that his mouth was drawing slowly towards her own.
From the instant his soft, moist lips brushed over her own, Michaela responded. Without conscious control she moved her mouth against his, falling into familiarity as she drew a calm breath. Opening her mouth as she felt his lips tighten tenderly around her own, Michaela was aware of his hands gripping her shoulders securely, before she felt his lips leave her mouth, traveling blindly towards her chin. His fingers caressed her flesh through the thin fabric of her pale blue blouse, neither hearing anything but the sound of rushing air.
Michaela willed the tension from her shoulders, a small moan passing from her mouth, as she felt his lips continue on their path downwards, nibbling lightly on the skin over her jawbone, before continuing along her neck, where the tip of his nose brushed against her right ear lobe.
She felt his words being reiterated through the sensitivity and precision of his movements, and in that moment, Michaela could almost completely dismiss the reality of life as it was. For in that single moment, his lip tucked under her ear, his nose moving over the fine wisps of hair from the edge of her hairline, the events of the last six months were obliterated. Just as she let her head sink backwards, aware of his head pressing closer into her neck, Michaela felt his hand move on her left shoulder.
His right hand slipping slowly downwards from her shoulder, quickly brought reality crashing down around her, aware of the heaviness of his hand moving from her shoulder down towards her chest.
In what was a mere fraction of a second, Michaela forgot instantly the pleasures of the previous several minutes, pulling back defensively against the physical intrusion, a single word slipping from her lips.
"Don't." She felt her eyelids flutter open, everything around her changing in a heartbeat. Her breathing shallow, she felt his hands leave her, his head pulling away from her neck, the air from his mouth growing cooler as the distance was returned between them.
"Michaela," Sully's voice was hollow, the indescribable regret surmounting from his heart.
"Don't apologize, I couldn't bear that. You weren't to know." She gripped the flowing material of her skirt, seeing the dark blue material scrunch up between her pale fingers.
"Just gonna take time," he responded, concerned by the energy she was exerting upon her skirt.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't," Michaela chastised herself for pulling away, self-loathing clouding her mind, before a single definite statement, paralleled itself with his right hand on her left.
"No. This is not your fault. It is not either of our faults," Sully declared, the strength of his words coming not from volume, but from physical connection with the breath in his lungs.
The pair remained silent for several moments, Michaela replaying his words over and over in her head. She knew he was right. And he was right about more than he knew. However, being right or wrong did not change anything; Michaela knew they were the ones left to rebuild their lives; and the attainment of the future they'd promised each other rested solely in her hands.