TWELVE

He glanced beyond her towards the meadow, then took her hands in his and met her eyes.

“How about … how about we think on gettin’ somethin’ to eat? We gotta do that before it gets dark, and that would give us time to collect our thoughts and sort ‘em out a bit. Then…then we can talk again by the fire tonight. What do ya think?”

She agreed, and their lips met in a tentative but intimate kiss. As they drew apart, she whispered, “We still love each other?”

A tender smile spread across his features. “You know nothin’ can ever change that!”

“Yes, I do!” she whispered fervently. “That’s why we must not close ourselves off from each other.”

“And why we gotta keep talkin’, right? You okay with that again?” She nodded. “How about we go back to camp so I can pick up my bow and arrows. I’ll scout around for somethin’ for our supper. An’ I got a new place I want to build the fire tonight—I’ll show ya.”

The place he chose was away from the lean-to at the edge of the woods. Puzzled, Michaela asked for an explanation, but Sully simply gave her a lopsided grin, shouldered his quiver, and strode away towards the forest.

Before long he returned with a pheasant, and Michaela responded with delight. She had become very fond of pheasant. He nodded with approval at the fire blazing cozily where he had indicated. While he attended to the bird and prepared it to roast over the fire, she wandered out to the meadow to gather a fresh bunch of flowers. Knowing that Sully would be busy for a while, she decided to linger instead of returning immediately. Finding a bare spot where the flowers were scarce, she gathered her skirts around her, sat down, and hugged her knees.

The sun had once again disappeared behind the great mountain, leaving it in a soft, twilight shadow. The air was cool, and Michaela drew her coat closer around her. As she gazed across the meadow, with the lean-to and the fire in the distance and her husband preparing their supper, her heart filled within her.

Her mind had been busy processing their conversation about Sully’s actions. Now she tried to pull together her own thoughts and emotions so she could organize them for further discussion. That’s when she made a surprising discovery. The thoughts she could retrieve—but the emotions were distant and no longer sharply etched. They seemed to have been defused of their sting and power.

In their place she felt buoyed up by a deep, underlying serenity. She seemed to be viewing the events and emotions of the past traumatic year from some detached vantage point. And what she saw was a scene dominated, not by turmoil and suffering, but by a love so powerful that it had ridden the turbulent waves without losing its anchor. A soft smile lighted her face.

She glanced toward the lean-to. The mountain was now in deeper shadow, and she couldn’t even make out Sully’s form. In contrast, the fire stood out more strongly than before. Getting to her feet and picking up her flowers, she set out toward it, and it drew her like a beacon of safety and hope.

When she reached Sully, he was adding foliage to the lean-to. He turned to welcome her, and she slipped into his arms. After a few moments, he whispered, “You okay?”

She drew back and smiled. “Is supper ready?” “Almost,” he said.

This time they chatted companionably while they ate, not about the past, but about their friends. They spoke of their profound gratitude that Robert E and Grace had found resolution to the distress that had separated them and of their ecstasy over her pregnancy. They pondered the bond that had developed between Cloud Dancing and Dorothy and wondered what the future held for them. And they couldn’t help the conversation turning again to Colleen and Andrew and to speculation over how they were handling the adjustments—and pleasures!—of married life.

“Now will you tell me why you moved the fire?” she asked when they had finished eating.

“I knew we have a lot of talkin’ to do tonight. And I was thinkin’,” he paused, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable, “that it might be easier to talk if we were sittin’ so as we could see each other. And I was thinkin’ it would be more comfortable if we had somethin’ to lean our backs against,” he finished, indicating the two young trees where they were sitting.

“Oh, Sully!” she breathed, in that special way that only she could say his name. “I love it when you start ‘thinkin’ !” Her imitation of him was flawless. “The log was nice, and I loved sitting close to you. But I agree, it would be good to be able to look at each other.” Then she added, “But I reserve the right to sit close to you again if I want to!”

He chucked her indulgently under the chin. As an afterthought, he strode back to the lean-to, gathered up the blanket, and spread it between the two trees. Then he added wood to the fire and helped her sit down before he took his place, cross-legged, in front of her, the fire now beside them. They looked into each other eyes and grew suddenly quiet.

THIRTEEN

The silence lasted only a moment because Michaela’s heart was bursting. Though she was eager to share with her husband, the words were not easy to form.

“Sully? I don’t know if I can explain to you how I feel just now or why I feel that way. But I want to try. I…I realized out there in the meadow that I don’t think I have ever felt more loved than I do right now.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I feel this way because…because…first you loved me enough to be willing to listen to me. That was good, but now it has become much more. Your wanting to make sure everything is open and clear between us, that nothing is left to ‘fester,’ as you put it, tells me more about your love for me than…than all the kisses in the world—and you know how much I love them!” She smiled, and he did, too, before glancing briefly away.

He studied his hands. “I had some thoughts, too, while I was huntin’ and while you were in the meadow. You know I wasn’t keen on comin’ out here, but truth is, bein’ able to share some of these things with you has for sure helped make them less painful to remember.” He looked up at her then, and the love and gratitude in his eyes turned her heart over afresh.

“I’m glad, Sully,” she said simply. “That means a lot to me.” She hesitated. “I need to say something else before we go on.”

She paused again, then took a deep breath and did not look at him. “I’m so sorry, Sully, that I said what I did about not finding you honorable.” The words hung in the night air while she corralled the courage to continue. “Hearing you explain how you felt and why you did what you did…seeing into your heart.…”

She was staring at her hands, nervously twisting her wedding ring. He reached out, took the hands in his, and compelled her to look at him. This time, however, it was the vulnerability in his eyes that bolstered her resolve. “I can’t say I now see everything the same way as you, but I do understand much better than I did before.”

“And does that understandin’ affect how you perceive me then?” he asked, and she knew what his heart needed to hear.

“I now…I now understand how you felt you were doing the honorable thing.”

A night bird screeched, startling them. She jumped, and that made them laugh, though some-what shakily. He reached to kiss her, and she came willingly. Afterwards, silence held them again for a few moments before she said, “You…you still haven’t talked much about the cave and what you went through all those months as a…as a.…”

“As a fugitive!” he spat out the word, and she knew that even if he never made another statement on the subject, she had seen into his heart. “I know,” he went on. “I s’pose I need to do that. But first I too wanna say somethin’ else.”

She waited. Beside them the fire crackled, its warmth creating for them an invisible haven from the chill of the night.

Now it was he who looked at his hands as he spoke. “It ain’t been easy hearin’ about the pain I caused you, especially your anger.” She held her breath. “But I have to say what you said—I un-derstand why you felt that way.”

When she said nothing, he went on. “Somethin’ else I been thinkin’. Seems like if heartsongs are to stay…in harmony with each other, they can’t let walls grow up between ‘em.”

He met her eyes then, and without a word they closed the space between them as their lips met in another earnest kiss.

“Keeping walls from building isn’t easy, is it, Sully? Hearing what is in each other’s hearts can be very difficult.”

“I s’pose for folks that don’t love each other as much as we do, it’s easier just to let ‘em build.”

Once again they were silent, pondering words and feelings expressed just now and from the last night and day. Despite the measure of healing that had taken place, a knot still churned in the pit of Sully’s being. He knew he had to address it.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Ya do know, don’t ya, how much it nearly killed me, knowin’ what I was doin’ to my family all those months?”

“Of course I do, Sully. But when I tell you how much they missed you—”

“When ya say things like that,” he burst out, “it makes me feel guilty beyond all bearing!”

He stared at her a long moment, then sprang to his feet and took three steps into the night, his back to her again. It took her only a moment longer to gain her own feet. This time, she did not hesitate but walked around in front of him.

“Sully? I’m sorry. I always thought I was helping by telling you that!”

He did not move or look at her. Because she knew him, she understood that he had to deal with some of the pain on his own terms. The idea that she had frequently compounded it was beginning to fully register.

She waited, afraid now, at least momentarily, of saying something else to make matters worse. Finally she murmured softly, “No walls…okay?”

He clasped her to his heart then, so hard that it nearly knocked her breath away. When she lifted her face, his kiss was like that of a drowning man cleaving to the one thing that could save his life.

FOURTEEN

When he drew back and looked at her, his eyes seemed bright with unshed tears, even though his face was in shadow with the firelight behind him. She touched his cheek with her fingers.

“I love you so much!” she breathed.

He kissed her again, gently this time. At the same time, she became aware that he was experiencing the same need she was for an even greater physical release. Acclimated as she had become to life in the West, the thought of the hard forest floor was not at all inviting. For several long moments, they simply held each other, absorbing strength and comfort once again from the love that seemed to deepen with each passing day.

Finally he whispered in her ear, “I can’t wait to get you back to the hot spring, and this time it won’t be back rubs we’ll have on our minds!”

She nodded mutely as he framed her face in his hands and tightened his fingers in her hair. “But, Sully–”

“I know! That’s too far and too long to wait.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, as if they were not alone in the night forest on the vast expanse of mountain. “I have an idea.”

“Y…es?”

“After I put some wood on the fire, I’m gonna fold the blanket up by this one tree. Then I’ll sit with my back against the tree . . .”

His voice trailed off, but as she got the picture, her face blossomed in the firelight, first in surprise with a touch of the old shyness, then into a grin of pleasure and anticipation. It was all the encouragement he needed.

The fire had diminished to a bed of coals before they became aware of it again. The interlude of intense physical expression of their love had provided the release they both needed desperately. The emotions of the day and night had drained them, yet those same emotions had now fueled their passion to a fervor they had not experienced in some time. It was is if all the nights their bodies had cried out for each other during their separation now converged upon them and demanded satisfaction.

It was like the first time when Sully slipped secretly into their room after his recovery.

Only the threat of imminent dawn had forced them to tear themselves away from each other and return to the dreaded separateness of their lives. Now, in his warm embrace, remembering, Michaela smiled a secretive smile and Sully, catching a faint chuckle, asked, “What?”

She was cradled in his arms as she sat beside him, facing him, her feet and skirts away from the fire. She smiled up at him. “I was just remembering the first night you stole into the house and into our room. I remember thinking, for an hour or so, that it was the happiest night of my life. But of course it wasn’t, because you had to go away again!” At that point, she surprised him by giggling.

“Y…es?” he said, imitating her.

“The next morning, the kids thought something was terribly wrong because I stayed in bed and slept until almost noon! I kept hearing them open the door and peer in, whisper to each other, and then close it again. I studiously ignored them and kept going back to sleep.”

He had smiled through her account, but in the end he wasn’t smiling. “I didn’t have any such concern,” he said grimly. “I was free to sleep all day if I wanted to—and the cave was even nice and dark.”

Now he found himself telling her about the lonely nights when he had wandered the forest. Her heart ached anew, and she nestled tightly against him, as if trying to infuse the empty places of the past with the balm of her presence here in his arms now.

His own arms tightened about her. “I didn’t imagine I would ever talk to anyone about that,” he said reflectively. “But sittin’ here, holdin’ you like this, and after…after our time before, I find that opening these painful places and...and allowin’ you into ‘em with me actually drains away some of the pain. It…it feels good.”

Now he shifted awkwardly. “But I been sittin’ far too long at the base of this tree!” he declared suddenly. “And right now some things definitely do not feel good!”

They got to their feet, laughing, and tried to shake out some of the stiffness. While she was brushing debris from her skirt, he surprised her from behind and began tickling her. Their burst of laughter echoed through the dark timbers, and a forest creature shrieked in protest at being disturbed.

As their merriment was subsiding, he asked, “You sleepy?” Neither had any idea how much time had passed.

She shook her head. “I’m sure I should be, but I think I’ve passed being sleepy.”

“I know what you mean. Wanna take a walk?”

She stared at him. “A walk? Sully, it’s the middle of night, and there’s not even a moon!”

“There will be before mornin’,” he informed her, then added, “but no, it won’t be enough to give much light. Look, let’s build up the fire, and then we could at least walk along the edge of the meadow within sight of it. We might even make it back to the rock we sat on earlier today. What do ya say?”

“I say I have the smartest and most wonderful husband in the universe!”

FIFTEEN

Before they started out, Michaela put the kettle on the coals to make fresh coffee, then took time to brush her hair, which badly needed some order brought back to it. With the supply of firewood gone, Sully went to scout out some more. Finally, warmed by the coffee and with the fire burning nicely again, they set out hand in hand along the edge of the meadow, enveloped in a cocoon of new and deepening tranquility.

Sully was the first to speak. “One of the hardest times for me—and I’m sure for you, too—was when Anthony died. Not being able to be with my friends—and with you—tore me up inside real bad.”

“Oh, Sully, yes! I felt so helpless in the face of what was happening, and I can’t tell you how much I missed your strength. I’m sure it would have helped Robert E immensely if you could have been with him–”

“I did slip into town one night,” he said, glancing back to make sure the fire was still burning safely as he had left it. “I found him beatin’ out all his pain on a piece of red-hot iron. I was glad I came when I did because he was really hurtin’. But I shoulda been with him a lot more”—now an undertone of bitterness and guilt returned to his voice—“and I shoulda been with both of them at Anthony’s funeral!”

His pain stabbed her heart anew. She took a deep breath. “Sully? Do you think there is a way you could become free of this feeling of guilt you carry?”

He did not answer immediately. They arrived at the rocky outcrop where they had sat briefly during the day, and he held out his hand to help her up. After they were seated, he said, “I don’t know. I still don’t see how I could not have tried to get Cloud Dancin’ outa that situation.”

“I agree with you on that. But blaming yourself so much—”

The lonely sound of an owl echoed through the darkness. Without looking up, he said, “Do you blame me, Michaela?”

The question caught her unawares, and she hesitated. Instead of answering, she stalled for time by asking, “Do you think I blame you?”

Once again only the sounds of the night forest broke the silence. They had traversed the edges of this discussion before, but emotions had been strained and they hadn’t dared pursue it.

He said slowly, “I know how ya felt—feel—about the…the deceptions, about me keepin’ ya in the dark on my plans. And I understand why you feel that way. But…you do understand, don’t you, that the reason I did things the way I did was not to hurt you, but to protect you?”

“I know, Sully. I’m sure I’ve always known that.” “But do ya feel like you can forgive me?”

She looked into her heart, and the answer was not hard to find. “Sully, I understand much better now why you did what you did, and I do forgive you for…for the deception you felt was necessary….”

Something in her mind was struggling to come together. As understanding began to break through, she realized it wasn’t a matter of things that needed to be drawn together. Rather, some things needed to be separated, to be held distinct from each other. Before she could put the understanding into words, she heard him asking in a hollow voice,

“But do ya think you can forgive me for all the pain I caused you and…everyone?”

She was still trying to find words for her new insight, but she knew if she took too much time, it could give him the wrong impression. So she plunged in, hoping that the right words would fall into place as she went along.

“Sully, listen to me for a minute. Yes, you planned to and took Cloud Dancing away from the reservation. And in the eyes of the Army and the law, that was wrong. We will never know what would have transpired if that had been the only thing to happen.”

He sat, elbows on spread knees, head down, listening intently but saying nothing.

“Don’t you see?” she went on. “So much of the rest of it—the things that went really wrong—were out of your control. It was the young braves, not you, who turned it into an insurrection, and that’s the reason O’Connor was brought back. Those things are what caused all the pain that resulted for us—for me and the children, for you. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

He still said nothing. “It’s been all mixed up in my mind until now, and I suppose, deep inside, I did blame you—consider you responsible—for all that happened. But I see it differently now, and I don’t think you should shoulder all the blame yourself for the pain we suffered.”

When he remained silent, a knot began to tighten within her. “Sully? What else can I say? You asked if I forgive you for the pain, but I really don’t feel forgiveness from me is even an issue there.”

Finally he raised his eyes and stared into the blackness. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Now I am the one who has never felt more loved.”

The implications of his statement were so profound that they stood alone, requiring nothing, not even a kiss, to make them complete. Side by side, on a rocky fragment of a vast mountain, husband and wife sat and gazed into the darkness together. They had scarcely ever felt more one, more a part of each other.

At last she whispered, barely audibly, “I’m glad.”

A gust of chill wind cut across them, and she moved closer to him. His arm came around her and drew her close. “You know, I was thinkin’,” he said, “how glad I am that your gettin’ shot didn’t happen until after I was home with ya.”

A gasp escaped her lips. “Oh, Sully! I don’t think…I know I would not have made it through that if you had not been with me!”

“You gettin’ cold?” he asked. “I think we better head back to the lean-to. Wouldn’t be surprised if both of us would be ready to catch some sleep by now.”

She had no argument, and they climbed down from the rock. The fire was now nothing more than a glow in the distance, but it provided them with the sense of direction they needed. The inky sky above was gilded with a million points of star light, giving the night just enough glow to make it welcoming rather than eerie.

As they walked hand in hand along the edge of the meadow, Sully said pensively, “Ya know, I was just thinkin’ about somethin’ I said to Brian once. It was when Ingrid was dyin’, and he felt so wretchedly to blame for it. I tried to explain to him that blamin’ doesn’t fix anything but it just makes it go on tearin’ at folks.”

He paused. She wanted to comment on how apropos his words were but did not want to interrupt his flow of thought. “I ‘spose I hadn’t realized my own self how much I been carryin’ all the blame for what happened last year.”

“And,” she broke in, “just as you explained to Brian, carrying that blame didn’t ‘fix’ a thing.” “No, and I had no idea how much it was tearin’ at me on the inside.”

A few more steps in silence and they reached the lean-to. He stopped in front of it and turned her to face him. In the dimness, his fingers caressed her face with exquisite tenderness. “I think tonight you may have given me the greatest gift of my life.”

Her heart was too full for a response, but she couldn’t have made one anyway because his mouth had closed over hers with a joyful possessiveness that echoed a newly birthed melody in both their hearts.

SIXTEEN

While Sully banked the fire for the night, Michaela straightened the trail pallets side by side and shook out the blanket. When she saw Sully approaching, she expected it was to join her in the lean-to, but instead he motioned for her to come out.

“Got somethin’ to for ya to see,” he said. He pointed toward the east above the forest that sloped down the mountain from the meadow. Just above the trees hung the newly risen but still waning moon, no longer appearing misshapen but now diminished once more to a familiar crescent shape.

He stood behind her, his arms folded around her, and together they gazed at the dark heavens. His lips against her hair, he spoke quietly. “I wasn’t aware of it, but I think in recent times the moon has been a melancholy sight for me because of all those nights alone as a fugitive. Now I feel a wholeness and a peace, and the moon is again a symbol of brightness and hope.”

They turned back to the lean-to and took turns stooping to enter it. It took a few minutes to get comfortably stretched out in the small space and the blanket arranged over them. The air of the deepening night was damp and chill, and they were glad to be fully clothed, including their buckskin outer coats. In actions as natural and unconscious as breathing, Sully opened his arms and Michaela settled in with her head nestled on his shoulder.

They were quiet for several minutes, reflecting on the conversations and emotions of the day. Could it have been only last night that they had fallen asleep tensely by the fire and later been wakened by the rain? How could they have made such a long emotional journey all in one day? Now they were experiencing a strange mixture of exhaustion and revitalization. And Michaela was becoming aware of a disturbing revelation.

While she was trying to bring it into focus, Sully spoke. “What would you say was the most difficult for you about the months I was in the cave?”

“Getting into an empty bed every night!” she exclaimed without thinking, happy to lay aside her other train of thought.

“Now why did I wonder if you might say that?” He grinned to himself at having set her up so perfectly.

They chuckled together, and then she continued, “It was a lot more than that, of course, but it did surprise me. I had spent so many years sleeping alone before we were married, I assumed I would soon adjust to it. But I never did. During the days I was always busy, but at night…that’s when the loneliness and the reality of our situation overwhelmed me the most.”

She stopped, wondering it the old feelings of guilt would assail him again. When he remained quiet, she said softly, “Sully? No more blaming and guilt—remember?”

“I remember. But new ways of thinkin’ take a little time to get used to.”

“I know. I have some new ones to learn myself. In fact….” She hesitated. This would not be easy, but she knew she had to do it. She drew back a little from his chest so he could be sure and hear her. “I’ve become aware of something I am guilty of, something for which I need your forgiveness.”

“Oh?”

“The reason I wanted to tell you what happened with all of us during the time we couldn’t find you was…because I told myself you had a…right to now.” She paused. “I realize now that was wholly selfish of me. I think…I think deep inside what I really wanted to do was unload some of my pain on you.”

Even the night sounds seemed to hush. Pain danced in the darkness, taunting them both, daring them to return to volatile exchanges of feelings and words. But a moment later, pain was forced to take flight, out across the colorless night meadow, a defeated foe. They had no need to play that game any more.

“I can understand how you’d feel that way,” he said. “And I am happy to forgive you.” He kissed her forehead and drew her head back to his shoulder as he added softly, “I did need to know.”

After a few moments, he said, “About tomorrow. I’m thinkin’ in the mornin’ we can just relax and sleep as long as we want, and I’m thinkin’ that will be a while. Since it’ll be mostly downhill, even with a late start we should still be able to make it back to the hot spring by tomorrow night.”

He found her lips in the darkness. “Tonight you can go to sleep thinkin’ on two things—rememberin’ our time of lovin’ here earlier tonight and anticipatin’ the one we’re gonna have tomorrow night at the hot spring!”

“Hmmm!” she murmured. “Thinking on those things could keep me awake all night!”

“You say that, but I can already hear ya startin’ to fade. I know in your doctorin’ ya often hafta stay up all night, but I bet you’re really exhausted and will sleep like a baby once we stop talkin’. While you’re at it, you might also do some thinkin’ on what we’re gonna do when we get home to our own bed again.”

“Hmmm! You mean, my dear mountain man, that you have come to actually prefer sleeping in a bed to sleeping on the ground?”

“Sleepin’ I can do anywhere, no problem. But when it comes to frolickin’ with my wife, I’ll take a proper bed, thank you—and a warm room!”

She moved against him like a contented kitten, but said nothing. He thought she had dozed off and was surprised to hear her voice again. “Sully…about the question I asked when I was upset earlier—about whether you would do what you did if you had known what would happen….”

He held his breath and waited for her to continue. “I hereby totally withdraw it,” she went on. “Now that I’m thinking rationally instead of emotionally, I know there is nothing in the world to be gained by asking such a question—and certainly not in trying to answer it.” She paused. “Do you think we can now lay all of this to rest, accept what happened without trying to assign blame, and leave it behind us?”

“I’m countin’ on it,” he said with feeling. “That is, if you’re sure there ain’t anything else ya wanna talk about.”

“There is,” she said, her voice sounding a little further away. “Tomorrow on the way down, I think it would be good for me to talk about when Marjorie…died, and Becky.”

“I hope you will.”

Again he thought she had fallen asleep when he heard her voice. “Sully, have you thought about the good that came from your being a fugitive? Your being out at the cave gave us a perfect way to get Brian and Katie away from town and protect them from the diphtheria.”

“I guess you’re right, but I admit I never spent time thinking about it that way.”

Another minute or two and her breathing told him that she had indeed drifted off.

SEVENTEEN

For a few more minutes Sully lay awake with his thoughts. He felt a compelling need to spend some time reviewing his blessings. For a moment he allowed his thoughts to drift back to the dark valley he had traversed after the deaths of Abigail and their baby. Oh, he had no intention of lingering, but he wanted to use it as a lodestar from which to rejoice once again in how far he had come since then.

The miracles had begun with Michaela’s arrival in Colorado Springs. Of all the towns in the west where she could have landed! He had a memory flash of that first Christmas Eve and how much raw courage it had taken for him to show up at her doorstep that frigid winter night. That he had fallen in love with her held no wonder for him—how could he not have? But that she had come to love him! Now that was beyond all his bravest imaginings. The memory of their incredible, tumultuous courtship journey never ceased to fill him with awe, and the hour on the train when he had made her truly his wife would remain one of his deepest and most cherished memories until he drew his last breath.

Another miracle that never ceased to amaze him was how they had been able to join their lives together in such a deep, passionate, and satisfying marriage despite their differing backgrounds. Was it because they had somehow learned to make their differences work for them as assets rather than liabilities? Whatever he might have given up when he married her paled in comparison to what he had gained in return. The devotion of a wife and family, the love and admiration of his “inherited” sons and daughter, and increasingly the respect of his fellow citizens—those were things he would no more trade for his former life than…than he would decide to become a gunfighter!

He stretched a little, careful not to disturb Michaela, and realized that sleep was beginning to woo him as well. But the assessing of his blessings could not be complete without the miracle of Katie. That a child could be conceived of the love of a man and a woman—he had experienced that with Abigail. But that a child should be brought into the world, not only alive, safe, and healthy, but by his own hands—that was another miracle he would never, ever take for granted. Beyond that, the breathless joy of watching that child blossom into a precious, delightful daughter with a smile like purest sunshine—most of the time it was more than his heart could contain.

And now.

Now he and Michaela had managed to navigate their way through the field of volatile emotions thrust upon them by the events of the past year. That was another miracle he never could have fathomed. That they should be coming out of it stronger than ever in their love for each other and in the bonding of their very souls was almost as awesome as their having fallen in love in the first place.

With a sigh of deepest contentment, Sully fell asleep.

Michaela awakened sometime during the night, though she wasn’t sure what had disturbed her. Beyond the opening of the lean-to, the plump crescent moon now gazed down from high in the sky as if keeping a tender watch over her and Sully while they slept. She realized she was lying on her side facing her husband but that his arms were no longer around her. Instead, he lay flat on his back in complete repose, hands on his chest outside the blanket, breathing deeply. She loved listening to him sleep! Knowing that he was there beside her, that his body was harvesting much deserved rest, that he was relaxed and at peace—all spoke to her of the deep togetherness and sense of belonging in marriage. It was another of those missing elements whose absence had tormented her while he was away.

 But that was behind them now. Somehow, when he was away on a survey trip or other business, the other side of the bed did not carry the same sense of unforgiving emptiness. It also occurred to her now that their embraces might no longer be tinged with that air of desperation that they had experienced over the last year.

She drew the blanket a little closer around her neck. Content as she was just to be there beside Sully as he slept under the night sky, she felt a need to be somehow connected. She knew that his shirt had not been tucked into his buckskins all evening, not since…. A grin teased the corners of her mouth. Taking care not to disturb him, she found the hem of the shirt and slowly slid her hand under it until her fingers touched the warmth of his bare torso. She smiled in satisfaction.

Her mind inevitably turned to reviewing the last few days. How naïve she had been to think that they could just come up here, do some recounting to each other some of things they had not shared before, indulge in some pleasurable passion, and find everything magically healed from the ordeal they had been through! She supposed that subconsciously she must have realized it could not be that simple, but she was just as surely aware that she had not allowed herself to entertain other possibilities.

Was she sorry?

Sorry she had been so naïve? Yes. But sorry she had initiated the trip? Never! Despite the pain that had been stirred up, the end result was more than worth it. And it occurred to her that had she known how painful it would be, she would never have suggested the trip. So perhaps her naiveté had worked to their advantage after all.

Their adventure in the woods had become far more an adventure of the heart than she could ever have imagined. As she looked back at the soul journey they had just come through, she found herself enveloped in a growing sense of awe.

She had long seen their marriage as a unique and powerful union, but this experience had added a entire new dimension to it. As much as the power and beauty of their passion never ceased to amaze her, it clearly was not the greatest strength of their marriage. Passion alone, no matter how intense or romantic, could not have brought two people through the intricate experience of excising painful, festering emotions, cauterizing old wounds, clearing the way for healing, health, and—joy. That took something deeper, something from the very core of their souls and of their commitment to each other and their marriage.

Yes, she was glad that her feminine intuition had conceived this trip and her tenacity had brought it to birth. But without Sully’s wisdom and his own eventual insight and persistence, it could have miscarried completely and been a disaster. Together they had made it work. Not only had their love survived the ordeals of the past year, but they had now refashioned that obstacle course into a bridge that would carry them forward to a new and stronger tomorrow for their love, their marriage, and their family.

She slid her hand a little more fully onto Sully’s warm torso. From above the covers his hand moved over it. Michaela smiled softly and fell asleep.

 THE END ;-D