The past couple of weeks had seen a routine established in the Sully household, one which, if he was willing to admit it to himself, he was savouring. After months of clinic building, the trip to St Louis, Christmas, it was pleasant to have settled down into a routine approximating normal. Of course the imminent arrival or their new son or daughter had brought its own problems and disruptions. Michaela seemed to have grown an inordinate amount in just the last week or so, leaving her sometimes irritable and always tired. She’d tried desperately to maintain her three mornings a week at the Chateau clinic, but just yesterday had admitted that she would have to cut back by at least one. Of course Andrew and Colleen were ever ready to assist, but Michaela’s pride was seriously dented.

Having to cut back wasn’t the only thing to have dented Michaela’s pride lately, though she’d done her best to cover it up, to not let on to him what had happened. It seemed that one of the uppity guests at the Chateau, a middle aged lady from Chicago, had objected to the sensible treatment Michaela had suggested for her arthritis and complained to the Senator about the quality of the medical service provided at his Chateau. For several days the woman had whinged to anyone who would listen to her and consequently the number of guests availing themselves of the clinic facilities and the services of the lady doctor had fallen. Then two things happened. The same woman suddenly took ill and Michaela’d had to treat her, thankfully with the result that the lady had quickly recovered, and then the Senator had made a point of introducing his ‘medical adviser’ to the guests at a dinner they’d both attended. For now the whispering and negative remarks had eased off but both he and Michaela were realistic enough to know that new guests would probably bring new objections to the ‘lady’ doctor.

Michaela’s back pain too had made a reappearance, probably brought on by the almost daily wagon ride out to Palmer Creek. Consequently, he’d become very adept at massage – Michaela couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed helping her in this small way, but he revelled in easing her discomfort, caressing her changed body, being close to her. It made him feel more a part of this miraculous process of producing a new child.

He was suddenly distracted by the murmur of voices downstairs and grinned. Two days before New Year, they’d all gathered at the train station to farewell Thomas as he returned to Charleston. Kathleen had been on edge ever since then, waiting for her brother to let her know if he’d accepted Senator Dinston’s offer of employment based here in Colorado Springs. This morning, just as Sully had been heading out with Matthew, she’d come tearing back to the clinic happily waving a telegram. As he’d foreseen, Thomas *had* accepted the challenge, and would move into his quarters at the Chateau in the second week of February, starting his new job shortly thereafter. Kathleen’s joy knew no bounds. Sully’d watched Matthew closely when this announcement was made, but seen only delight in the young man’s face at his dear friend’s happiness. He smiled to himself. Matthew had eagerly begun planning the new homestead, even before knowing that Thomas would definitely be moving here, but now he had a feeling that the work would begin in earnest, perhaps even with an announced completion deadline. He momentarily wondered if Kathleen would’ve stayed on if Thomas had chosen not to take up the position at the Chateau, and then he smiled. Of course she would’ve!

Sully hadn’t let on to Michaela, but he was as happy for Matthew as she was. He knew that finding the right woman changed a man’s life forever for the better, and watching Matthew and Kathleen together, he had no doubt that his ‘son’ had found the right woman. Her bubbling personality – able to lift Matthew when he began to take life a little too seriously, her supportive attitude to his law studies, her excitement over the plans for the new homestead, and her obvious love for children all made her a perfect partner for their eldest son. It was no secret that Matthew had always wanted a large family, for he and Ingrid had talked about it before she died. Now he’d met a young woman who shared his dreams and appeared to give her love unreservedly. Sully couldn’t have been happier, though he surmised that Matthew’s happiness far exceeded his own on the matter.

His focus returned to Michaela as she moved restlessly in her sleep, laying her hand protectively over her stomach. Perhaps the baby was moving again. It had become very active during the last couple of weeks, which didn’t help much when she was supposed to be resting more. Of course he liked nothing better than to rest his hand where Michaela indicated and to feel the baby move. He wondered how it felt to her. Sometimes he’d guess at whether it was a foot or knee or elbow he could feel, and sometimes Michaela would rest his hand in a certain position and tell him that by its size she thought it was the baby’s head. He felt overwhelmed every time.

When she’d first become pregnant again he’d thought that their excitement mightn’t be as great. They’d both been through it before. But this time round, he’d managed to quash so many of the fears which had been ever-present throughout her first pregnancy. If he wasn’t careful they would still surface, but then he would look across at his darling baby daughter or close his eyes and relive her birth out in the woods and take a few deep breaths. Everything was going to be alright. He was sure of it. And although Michaela’s tiredness was worrisome, he could tell that her excitement was building also. Sometimes she’d just grasp his hand and squeeze, or fetch her stethoscope and they’d take it in turns to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. Was it a full eight months since they’d been so desperately longing for another child? The time had past so very quickly.

Yesterday afternoon, when Michaela had been feeling a little depressed over her decision to cut back on her already light workload at the Chateau and she consequently needed some holding, they’d lain here together on the bed and discussed baby names. He’d enjoyed that, although they still hadn’t firmly decided on what names they would use. It was funny, he’d found himself suggesting a number of girl’s names and Michaela had focussed on the boy’s. He shrugged his shoulders. It really didn’t matter to him whether it was a boy or girl. His heart was full already. He was certain another baby was going to cause it to overflow.

And of course last week, they’d finally admitted to each other their dreams about the baby’s birth – where and with whom. He’d been more than thrilled when Michaela’s thoughts had so closely mirrored his own. Andrew had taken a little convincing, and they hadn’t let on to their friends in town about their plans. Too much time yet remained for well-intentioned advice from folks who thought they knew better than he and Michaela. Maybe it wasn’t the conventional way, but it *was* the way they wanted it! Colleen’s reaction had been a little intriguing. He had a feeling she wasn’t looking forward to helping her ma give birth. That surprised him. He’d thought that after all the midwifery experience she’d had over the years with Charlotte and then Michaela she’d have wanted to be there for this special occasion. Well, they’d leave it up to her when the time came.

Katie suddenly stirred in her sleep and flung her arm out from under the covers, before thrusting her thumb into her mouth and settling again. Sully smiled. Michaela always frowned when their daughter did this, but to give her credit, she rarely said anything. To him, it was endearing and reminded him of how little and vulnerable Katie still was. On the days when they visited Palmer Creek it had become routine that after returning home mother and daughter would curl up here together for a late afternoon nap before supper. The other days Katie willingly settled in her room but Sully knew that she enjoyed these times cuddling with her ma.

His eyes alighted on the Cheyenne beads she wore around her neck. She’d come to enjoy her trips out to Palmer Creek, especially when the weather wasn’t too cold and she could play with her new friends. He realised that before this she’d rarely had the opportunity to mix with children of a similar age, except Samantha of course. The indian children seemed to have adopted her, teaching her new games and a few Cheyenne words, which she tended to mispronounce just as badly as she did so many English words. He chuckled.

The Cheyenne families had accepted his family so readily it left him feeling awed. After so much mistreatment at the hands of whites, their ability to see the Sullys as individuals and not part of a whole was inspiring. Even he had trouble doing that sometimes!

Surprisingly, today Katie had sat quietly for quite some time with Brian and Little Blackbird. The young indian boy’s health was improving, but it was obvious that Michaela was still worried about him. He was sitting up now, though he tired easily and his skin was pale and a strange yellowish colour. They hadn’t even tried to get him up on his feet. Of course the fracture box on his leg would’ve made it well nigh impossible, but also he seemed too weak. Michaela had mentioned that he’d probably always have a limp because his leg had been set too late for it to mend properly, but Sully was sure there was something else worrying her too. For Brian’s sake especially, he hoped that the indian boy would fully recover.

Brian, of course had returned to school in the New Year. To Sully, it was hard to believe that it was his last! He wondered what the boy would decide to do after finishing school. The thought of Brian setting off to attend college somewhere, maybe far away, made a hard lump form in the pit of his stomach. He felt so close to him, as close as any father and son could be he reckoned. He’d miss him terribly if he had to go away, as would Michaela.

Brian hadn’t forgotten Little Blackbird after returning to school. Invariably he would either join them on their wagon ride out to Palmer Creek or he’d already be there when they arrived. Although the indian boy understood virtually no English, Brian would read to him or they’d talk in their own strange mixture of gestures and single words. Brian was forever calling out, asking how to pronounce certain words in Cheyenne. At present he was trying to teach the boy how to play checkers and Little Blackbird was catching on remarkably quickly.

The tantalising aroma of the joint roasting in the oven wafted up the homestead stairs and teased Sully’s nostrils. His thoughts flew to the previous Sunday, when Horace had brought Myra and Samantha out to the homestead for supper. It’d been a pleasant evening. The change in Myra was remarkable. She’d regained her speech, although she stuttered a little and mispronounced some words, a little like Katie at times. She could now stand and even take a few tentative steps, though she still needed someone with her for support. Sully figured she just needed to regain some confidence. He was working on a fancy walking stick for her so she’d have something to lean on when she needed it. He was hoping he could persuade Robert E to add a metal collar and tip to it like the fancy ones he’d seen in Boston and St Louis. Myra probably wouldn’t like using it at first but making it pretty might help her overcome her aversion.

Throughout the evening, Samantha and Katie had played happily together by the fire while the grown-ups talked. They were like sisters when they were together. They’d laugh, they’d bicker, they’d even take to each other now and then, but they’d always make up and go on as if nothing had happened. The strangest relationship however was between Myra and Horace. Sully hadn’t seen them together much since returning from St Louis, but it was obvious that something had changed. They were still friendly, and Horace couldn’t do enough for Myra, but the intimacy that they’d always shared wasn’t as obvious anymore. They were like old friends who enjoyed each other’s company but that was all. The love, of which he could remember Michaela speaking when they were in St Louis, appeared to have dissipated or at least changed into something else. He shrugged his shoulders. Maybe Horace had finally arrived at the conclusion that he and Myra weren’t meant to be together forever as he’d believed for so long. Sully sincerely hoped that Myra’s illness had nothing to do with it, but knowing Horace and his big heart, he very much doubted that was the cause.

Michaela was very concerned about another aspect of Myra’s illness at the moment. The first three weeks of her rehabilitation at the Chateau had been paid for by the money Hank had generously provided when he discovered she was ill, and also the donation made by her friends at the Shaw Club Hotel in St Louis. However, only a few days ago, Michaela had been handed a bill for a significant sum for Myra’s time at the Chateau since then. She’d been worrying herself sick about how to pay it. Sully reasoned that Hank had shown an unprecedented devotion to Myra since her return to Colorado Springs and would probably willingly help out, but Michaela was reluctant to approach him on the matter, deeming that he had already done enough. She’d even considered bringing Myra out to the homestead for a while and continuing her rehabilitation out here, but he’d argued that with the house already full, two new inhabitants would add too great a strain at a time when Michaela needed to take things easy. And so, for the time being, they’d let things ride, although he knew that very soon something would have to be done about the matter. He wondered what Michaela’s reaction would be if *he* was to approach Hank about it.

Michaela stirred once more and grimaced. Probably her back acting up again. Perhaps it was time for her to enjoy some pampering. With a house full of children and young adults, the opportunities for some quiet time together were few and far between. He contemplated doing something he’d been thinking about ever since before Christmas. She’d probably protest and say it was a waste of money, but after the baby arrived it would be a long time before they’d have another opportunity. His skin warmed a little. If he was honest with himself, maybe what he was considering wasn’t just for Michaela’s benefit but his also. While he’d missed the family terribly when he and Michaela were in St Louis, he’d also enjoyed having her to himself for a while. He’d give it some thought during the next day or so …. and if it seemed viable he’d put his plan into action.

A soft sigh and moan from Katie brought his attention back to the present and he glanced down to see his daughter awake and reaching out for him. He bent over and gently lifted her into his arms. She scrubbed at her sleepy eyes and then rested her head on his shoulder while he rubbed her back. He gently swayed to and fro with her in his arms. He delighted in her baby smell, her warmth and her complete trust as she relaxed against him. He lovingly kissed her cheek and her arms came up to encircle his neck.

"Mama seepin’?" she whispered against his ear.

"Uh huh," he replied softly.

"Katie not seepin’," she murmured, stating the obvious.

Sully chuckled. "Guess you’re right," he whispered. "Wanna help pa an’ Kathleen with supper?"

His daughter tightened her hold on his neck. "Mmm," she murmured in agreement.

"Good ….. we’ll leave ma sleepin’ a little longer …. Alright?"

Katie nodded and Sully carried her out of the quiet room and downstairs to join the rest of the family.

Michaela sat before the living-room fire trying to concentrate on her new issue of the American Medical Society journal but the constant movement of the baby and the ache in her back kept distracting her.

"You alright?" asked Sully with concern. He was sitting on the rug at her feet reading Whitman.

"Mmm …. baby’s very active tonight ….. never seems to stop," replied Michaela, as she once again wriggled in the large chair trying to find a more comfortable position. "I’d forgotten just how hard these last few weeks were …."

"Won’t be long now," Sully reassured her as he had done many times lately.

"I know …. and I’ll be fine." Michaela managed a weak smile. She turned slightly as Matthew and Kathleen entered the room from the direction of the kitchen. They’d kindly offered to do the supper dishes while Sully and Michaela put Katie to bed.

"All finished Michaela," said Kathleen with a smile.

"Thanks for that … both of you ….. I don’t know what we’d do without you at the moment," returned Michaela.

"Ah …. Dr Mike ….. Sully …. Kathleen an’ me’d like to talk to ya for a minute ….. if that’s alright," said Matthew softly, a nervous edge to his voice. He grasped Kathleen’s hand, sat her in the other wingback chair and then perched himself on the low stool beside her.

The older couple’s eyes followed the pair and they waited expectantly.

"Umm …. now that we know Thomas is gonna be livin’ here for a while ….. well …" Matthew swallowed and took a deep breath. "I think ya both know how its bin with Kathleen an’ me ….. I know we haven’t known each other very long …. But this afternoon ….. I …..I …. asked her if she’d marry me ….. an’ she said yes." He paused, obviously unsure what his parents’ reaction would be.

Michaela’s face broke into a wide smile and she held out her arms to her son who quickly moved into them. "Matthew I couldn’t be happier," she exclaimed, as she hugged him tightly. She looked across at Kathleen who was alternately smiling excitedly and biting her lip nervously. Michaela reached out to the young woman. Kathleen jumped up from her chair and clasped her hand. Michaela said sincerely, "I couldn’t think of another person I’d more readily welcome into our family."

Tears of joy glimmered in the young woman’s eyes. "As Matthew said …. its *has* only been a few months …. But I’ve never been surer of anything Michaela … Sully ….," she said softly. "I can’t imagine living anywhere else but here …. and I want so much to be Matthew’s wife …"

As Sully grasped Matthew’s hand and wrung it firmly he asked, "When were the two of you thinkin’ of gittin’ married?"

The younger couple’s eyes met and then Matthew said tentatively, "Um … do ya think there’s any chance of havin’ the homestead finished by summer Sully …. say sometime in June?"

Michaela exclaimed, "But that’s really only a few months Matthew …. Don’t you think you should get to know each other a little better before you marry?"

Matthew reddened. "I’d rather not wait ma …. Me an’ Kathleen wanna be together as soon as we can." His eyes locked with Sully’s. "Do ya think we could git it finished Sully?"

"But Matthew!….." Michaela’s interjection was abruptly halted by Sully’s gentle but insistent squeeze of her knee. Her eyes flew to his and his gentle, knowing gaze quashed her objections, or at least silenced them for now.

Sully turned back to the waiting couple. "I reckon we could just about manage it Matthew …. with a little help …," he replied reassuringly.

"Good …. We wanna git married here … in Colorado Springs … an’ move into our new house right away," Matthew informed them both. His eyes met Michaela’s. "Alright ma?" he asked, obviously seeking her blessing.

Swallowing her objections and the hundred questions she desperately wanted to ask, she replied softly, "If that’s what the two of you want …. then Sully and I will be behind you."

Matthew’s face broke out into a wide, happy smile. "Thanks ma ….. it *is* what we want." He tenderly caressed Kathleen’s hand. "I don’ remember when I last felt this happy … or this sure," he murmured lovingly. "Think me an’ Kathleen’ll step out onto the porch for a minute." He drew his blushing fiancee to her feet and then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the front door.

When the door had closed behind them Michaela sighed. "They’re so young Sully," she said softly.

"I know …. but they’re in love …," rejoined Sully as he raised himself up to kneel between Michaela’s knees.

"Why are they rushing into it? They have so much time …."

"That’s what we thought about Ingrid …..," murmured Sully.

Michaela’s eyes flew to his. "You think that’s why he doesn’t want to wait?"

"Could be ….. life’s taught him that ya don’ know what’s around the corner …. I couldn’ blame him for not wantin’ to wait this time …"

Michaela gently cupped his face with her hand. "You’re probably right ….. *again*," she whispered. She lightly brushed his lips with hers. "*We* waited."

"Uh huh …. the longest year of my life …."

Michaela blushed and then leant forward to whisper against his ear, "Do you remember when you asked me to marry you?"

"Mmmm …. in the sweat lodge ….. Told ya I’d love ya forever …. Still do …. always will …." He raised her hand to his lips. "Do you remember askin’ *me* to marry *you*?"

"Mmmm in the meadow …… I asked you if you’d have me …. and you made me wait before you said yes …"

Chapter 47

Through the steam haze she observed Michaela and Sully enter the caf� and seat themselves at one of the large tables which provided the most shelter from the freezing wind. It was strange not seeing her doctor friend every day in town, greeting patients at the clinic door or striding across the street to the mercantile, down to the train station or even into the caf� for a piece of pie. Grace missed her reassuring presence close by.

Dr Mike sure was big now. She glanced down at her own now almost flat stomach and sighed with relief. She recalled how worrisome being that large and constantly tired had been. Once again she gazed across at her sleeping baby boy. It had certainly all been worth it though! Now she was tired for other reasons, but *this* tiredness was accompanied by continuing joy. She registered the abrupt, clanging sound of hammer on anvil at the nearby livery and smiled. She’d never seen Robert E as happy either. It was a wonder he hadn’t made the lunch hour an excuse to come over and check on her and Michael as he so often did. She knew he did it more to gain a glimpse of his darling son, or, if he was lucky and the baby was awake, to have the opportunity to hold him.

Once again she observed the Sullys as they sat close together. Perhaps now would be a good time to ….. At that moment Brian came running from the direction of the school house and sat himself on the bench beside Sully, talking animatedly as he did so. In that case, she’d wait until the boy went back to school before calling Robert E. She picked up her order pad and made her way across to her friends.

After Grace had taken their orders for her delicious beef stew Brian could contain himself no longer. "Ma ….. you’ll never guess ….. Miss Teresa’s takin’ us into the woods tomorrow …. We haveta find four different plants or insects we aint seen before an’ then durin’ the next week identify ‘em," he explained excitedly.

"And how do you intend identifying them Brian?" asked Michaela, eyeing her youngest son indulgently.

"We’re allowed to use any means we can …. books, our parents ….. other folks in town ….. anyone who might know anythin’ about ‘em. Course it aint enough to just be able to name ‘em …. We haveta be able to say somethin’ about ‘em …. If they’re good for somethin’ or if someone has a story about seein’ or usin’ ‘em …." He paused and chuckled. "Guess I got a bit of a head start on most of the kids ….. with you pa ….. an’ Cloud Dancin’ ….. I bet Flyin’ Hawk’d help me too …."

Sully reached across to ruffle his son’s hair fondly. "Guess ya might have," he said wryly. "But then …. ya might have some trouble findin’ things ya aint ever seen before huh?"

Brian frowned. "Oh pa …. I didn’ think of that ….. I guess I *have* spent more time out in the woods than a lotta the kids …." He trailed off thoughtfully, then suddenly his sunny smile returned and he said optimistically, "The woods are so big ….. I’m sure there are lotsa things I aint noticed before ….. just gotta keep my eyes open …."

"That’s the right attitude Brian," said Michaela encouragingly. "We’ll both be interested to see what you discover." She paused as a thought occurred to her and then she said hastily, "But even if Flying Hawk does help you with your assignment …. you won’t mention him will you? We’re lucky that he and his band haven’t yet been discovered. Its best to keep it that way …."

Brian nodded in understanding. "I’ll be careful ma …. pa ….I promise."

Grace kept a watchful eye on the family as they ate and at last Brian stood, kissed his ma on the cheek, slapped Sully good-naturedly on his back and headed back to the school house. She was just about to summon Robert E when she noticed Michaela’s eyes narrow as she spied a decidedly preoccupied Dorothy wander into the caf� and idly scan the tables seeking an empty seat. "Dorothy …," the doctor called. "Over here …" Grace shook her head and once more went back to her work, determined to eventually have a word with Dr Mike and Sully before they left for their homestead.

Dorothy seemed to snap out of her reverie upon hearing her name called and she smiled as she recognised her friends sitting at one of the tables. She made her way over to them. "Hey Michaela, Sully," she said quietly. "Good to see ya in town …"

Michaela was closely observing her friend who was clearly not her usual bright self. She explained, "We had to come into the mercantile and I wanted to ….."

"Ya wanted ta check on the clinic … right?" chuckled Dorothy, her laughter not quite reaching her eyes.

Michaela reddened. "Well … seeing we were coming into town. I-I … know that Andrew is more than competent …but …."

"Its alright Michaela …. I can understand ya doin’ that …. Ya spent a lotta years building ya practice up ….," rejoined Dorothy understandingly, and then made to leave them.

Michaela immediately suggested, "No Dorothy … sit with us …. tell us what you’ve been doing …. I miss our morning coffees here at the caf�."

Dorothy momentarily seemed a little reluctant and then smiled and sat down beside Michaela. "Where’s Katie today?" she asked. "I kinda miss her chatter."

Michaela chuckled. "She’s with Kathleen at home. Sometimes I feel superfluous … Katie responds to her so well …."

"No reason to be ever thinkin’ that," said Dorothy warmly. "She loves her ma. I wonder how’s she’s gonna react to a new baby in the house?"

"We’ve been wondering the same thing ourselves," replied Michaela. She smiled and gently caressed her now very large stomach. "Won’t be long and we’ll find out," she murmured dreamily.

Dorothy leant forward a little and murmured conspiratorially, "A little bird told me Kathleen might be stayin’ in Colorado Springs …. permanently. Is that right? Are Matthew an’ her engaged?"

Michaela laid her hand over Sully’s on the table and he replied for both of them. "I don’ know if they want everyone knowin’ yet …. but he asked her an’ she said yes …"

For the first time Dorothy’s face broke into a convincing wide smile. "That’s wonderful news. They seem ideally suited. Its been a long time since I’ve seen Matthew so relaxed and happy. I guess his new homestead’s gonna occupy a lotta your time for the next few months."

Sully nodded resignedly. "He wants it finished by June …. Gonna be *real* busy I reckon …"

As the icy breeze sprang up again, Michaela suddenly shivered and Dorothy pulled her shawl more tightly around herself before remarking, "Kinda chilly aint it? June sounds good ….can’t wait for the spring an’ some warm sun …"

"Mmmm … I agree …. Winter seems to have been particularly severe this year …. as we well know with Flying Hawk and his band coming down here from the north…" As she spoke Michaela was watching Dorothy closely. At the mention of the Cheyenne at Palmer Creek her friend’s eyes dropped to the tabletop and she fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.

Sully too was observing Dorothy’s reaction. He said softly, "Cloud Dancin’ was sayin’ ya aint been out there much lately …" He paused, wondering what the editor’s response would be.

As he’d almost expected, her face suddenly flamed scarlet and she turned away, fixing her eyes on something off into the distance. "Yeah …. well …. I-I bin busy … aint easy running the Gazette single-handed," she muttered defensively. "Sides …. Cloud Dancin’s got company now …. Must be appreciatin’ havin’ his own people around ….." She trailed off, biting her lip nervously.

"Man can still be lonely among his own," rejoined Sully softly. Michaela’s eyes flew to his face and she grasped his hand reassuringly. Sully responded to her understanding with an almost imperceptible squeeze of his own and then he again spoke to Dorothy. "You not comfortable bein’ with Flyin’ Hawk’s people?" he probed, clearly worried about the older woman’s reticence.

Her startled blue eyes flew to meet his. "No … course not," she exclaimed immediately. "Any time I bin out there they’ve made me feel real welcome …. In fact …." She withdrew an envelope from her pocket. "You goin’ out there this afternoon?" she asked him. When he nodded his head in the affirmative she handed him the envelope. "Could ya give this to Cloud Dancin’ for me …. Thought of somethin’ that might slow the army down a little if they come snoopin’ at Palmer Creek …. Won’t stop ‘em …. but might slow ‘em down. I got a copy for safekeepin’ in my office." Before Sully could reply or perhaps probe further she stood. "Sorry I can’t stay longer but I got an issue to git out an’ my editorial’s only half written. Good day Michaela …. Sully …." And to the amazement of her friends she strode briskly away towards the Gazette office.

Michaela’s puzzled eyes turned to Sully. "Do you realise she left before having any lunch? I don’t understand her at all …. I thought she’d become very close to Cloud Dancing …. that perhaps she’d even come to love him …. Now she seems to be stepping back from him," mused Michaela.

Sully frowned. "Maybe she don’ like sharin’ him with the other Cheyenne …. though that don’ sound much like the Dorothy I thought I knew …. Still …. if ya remember …. she wasn’ too keen on the indians a coupla years back …."

Michaela looked at him aghast. "But she’s changed so much in the last couple of years Sully," she exclaimed. "She’s grown …. learnt so much more about the Cheyenne and their traditions …. *and* their treatment at the hands of the army and government …. I don’t believe she’d just abandon Cloud Dancing now that he’s temporarily back with his own people."

Sully gave her a wry smile. "I hope you’re right Michaela …. but there’s no understandin’ some folks …. You know that …."

Again Grace was eyeing her friends hopefully. As Dorothy unexpectedly left, she approached them and suggested some of her just baked pie, hoping to detain them in the caf� a little longer. Both were more than happy to order dessert and she smiled to herself, feeling very self-satisfied as she returned to her serving bench. She’d call Robert E as soon as she placed the steaming pie in front of them.

Michaela inhaled the sweet aroma of warm pastry and apple and sighed contentedly. "I’ll never be able to make pie like this … no matter how much I practice …. or how long I live …."

Sully chuckled. "While ever Grace’s around there aint no reason to try …. Sides, you do lotsa other things real well …." He reached across and caressed the back of her hand lovingly.

Michaela blushed and then spooned a large portion of pie into her watering mouth. Suddenly dark shadows fell across their table and she looked up to see Hank and Jake peering down at them.

Hank began hesitantly, "Ah …. Afternoon Michaela, Sully …. I uh …wanted ta ask ya somethin’ ‘bout Myra if ya got the time."

Jake smirked. "Seems Myra’s ‘bout all ya think about these days Hank," he sneered good-naturedly. "What is it this time? Should she be takin’ four steps insteada three? ….. Should ya be goin’ out there at eleven o’clock insteada half of?"

Grace gazed across at the newly crowded table and groaned exasperatedly. Again she’d been thwarted in her efforts to speak to Michaela and Sully alone. Well when Hank and Jake moved away she was going over there regardless. In fact she’d fetch Robert E now. She strode off determinedly towards the livery.

"I-I was wondering if Myra’d be up to goin’ out a little now? Maybe a buggy ride?" asked Hank. "She seems a lot better … an’ I though maybe gittin’ out an’ about, seein’ the town an’ countryside agin might do her some good." He paused and then added, "Course … she can’t stay at the Chateau forever …. Whatever deal ya got workin’ out there is gonna run out sometime."

"Sooner than you think," commented Sully under his breath.

Hearing the uncharacteristic remark Hank eyed him quizzically for a moment and then decided not to pursue its meaning …. for now. He turned back to Michaela. "Well whatdya think?"

Before she could reply Jake nudged his friend in the ribs and said dryly, "Aint ya forgettin’ somethin’?"

Hank’s brow creased in puzzlement.

"Horace!" stated the barber. "He aint gonna like ya escortin’ his wife around town …"

"Ex-wife," said Hank derisively.

"Yeah …. well ….. he *still* aint gonna like it …"

Hank rejoined quickly, "Well …. far as I can make out …. he aint spendin’ the time with Myra he used ta …. They seem to have come to some sorta understandin’ ….. that’s how it looks to me anyway…."

Surprising Sully in particular, Michaela suddenly said, "Seems to me its up to Myra. Physically she’s certainly up to leaving the Chateau for a while …. Maybe to come visiting in town or a short ride out of town …. As long as you don’t tire her out. Why don’t you ask her?"

Hank smiled a little smugly. "Might do just that," he said. "Thanks Michaela. If the weather’s good we might even go somewhere tomorra mornin’ before her exercises."

As they wandered away, Jake couldn’t resist giving his friend a little more advice, "I still think ya askin’ for trouble … you know what’s gone on between you an’ Horace before …. Remember Preston’s ground-breakin’ ceremony?"

Sully watched them go and then turned to eye Michaela speculatively across the table. "You really think he’s got a chance with Myra? Their past aint exactly ideal."

"Maybe … maybe not ….," replied Michaela judiciously. "But I’ve come to believe that Myra’s quite able to look after herself …. And if she wants to enter into a liaison with Hank … she of all people knows what he’s like. Besides …. perhaps the feelings are all on Hank’s side and Myra doesn’t share them. He’s certainly made evident the way *he* feels since she arrived at the Chateau. I wonder if he realises it himself yet."

Any further exploration of the matter was halted by Grace and Robert E approaching their table. "Um … Dr Mike … Sully, we’ve bin waitin’ to visit with you … if its alright?" asked Grace a little nervously.

"Of course Grace … please sit down ….How’s that beautiful baby of yours?" exclaimed Michaela, delighted to visit with her good friends.

"You’re askin’ *me*? … His ma? …..," chuckled a proud Grace. "I’ll go git him." And she rose from the table and walked quickly across to the pram. She gently lifted out her sleeping son, safely bundled in thick blankets, and brought him across to the Sullys. "Here he is … Aint he beautiful?" she asked, almost in awe. "I still haveta pinch myself sometimes to realise he’s real an’ ours." She handed him to Michaela who clasped him to her breast and rocked him gently.

"He *is* beautiful Grace … I do believe he’s growing almost by the day …. He seems so much longer and rounder since I held him last," exclaimed Michaela, cooing over the tiny sleeping boy.

As her friend passed the baby to Sully, Grace chuckled. "Well he oughta," she said ruefully. "Seem to be feedin’ him every hour or so …"

Sully peered down into the serene, round, brown face of the baby and his protective hold tightened a little. At that moment Michael stretched and one little balled fist came up to rest under his chin and his mouth moved in a sucking motion. "Think he heard ya Grace," smiled Sully. "You two oughta be real proud."

Robert E and Grace’s eyes met and Robert E said softly. "We are Sully …. we are …. An’ we thank God every day for his gift …. after losin’ Anthony an’ all."

Both Michaela and Sully nodded in sympathy and understanding.

Then Grace said, "Actually Michael’s the reason we wanted to speak to ya. The reverend has bin …. ah …. *encouragin’* us ….. to have Michael christened …. An’ we was wonderin’ ….. well …. we’d both be real proud if you two would consider bein’ his godparents …. Whatdya say?" Both of them were watching Michaela and Sully anxiously for their reaction. Robert E added, "You both stood up for us at our weddin’ an’ then did us the honour of askin’ us to be Katie’s godparents …. We’d like it if you’d do this for us."

Sully again looked down at the beautiful baby boy in his arms and then across at Michaela whose eyes were threatening to well up. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod. He smiled and then said quietly and sincerely, "We’d be honoured …. Robert E … Grace …. thankyou."

The tension in Grace’s shoulders suddenly eased and she gave an excited giggle. "Good," she said with alacrity. "In that case we were thinkin’ of havin’ him christened Sunday …. If we put it off much longer than that the reverend will be at us again, an’ you two might be too tied up with your own little one. Is that alright with you?"

"Sunday it is," declared Sully.

Michael took that statement as a sign to wake and seek his mother’s arms and succour and Sully gladly handed him over.

Sully straightened up after greeting the small indian boy He’heenohkeso and turned worried, anxious eyes on Cloud Dancing. "He aint doin’ as well as we hoped is he?" he asked.

"No …. There has been little change in the last few days …. I fear that even Michaela’s strong medicine will not be enough for this small one," replied Cloud Dancing, his dark brown, troubled eyes fixed on the small boy laying listlessly on the pallet at his feet.

"I reckon Michaela’s bin worried about him from the beginnin’," said Sully. "Should I go home an’ git her?"

The medicine man shook his head. "No ….. he is no better and yet he is no worse ….. I believe that bringing Michaela all the way out here will achieve little."

Sully glanced worriedly across at Brian who was seated some twenty feet away by the fire trying to communicate with Flying Hawk in a strange mixture of gestures and Cheyenne and English words. "If Little Blackbird don’ git well …. I dunno how Brian’s gonna take it …. Aint that long ago he lost Anthony …."

"He will manage my brother …. He is a strong boy …. almost a man …"

"Mmmm …. Hope you’re right ….. Seems so many of the people he’s loved have died or gone away …. He’s a good boy …. don’ deserve that ….," mused Sully.

"The spirits do not choose who to leave and who to take because a person is good or bad ….. Each sadness or joy shapes the person ….. according to how they choose to react to it," advised Cloud Dancing sagely.

"When I was growin’ up …. I thought it was my fault somehow ….. that my pa died, my brother was killed an’ then my ma …. she….. Then years later when Abagail an’ Hanna went as well ….. it felt like I’d been right …. I’d hate Brian to think like that …," Sully lamented. "Took me a lotta years an’ Michaela to make me realise it weren’t my fault."

"But there is one important difference between you and Brian Sully," said Cloud Dancing earnestly. "You were alone, but Brian has *you* and Michaela …. to show him the way …. to console him in grief and to share with him his joy. He may feel sorrow at the passing of Anthony ….. and perhaps Little Blackbird ….. but he has you to comfort and guide him along the way."

Sully’s brow creased in consternation. "Its a big responsibility aint it …. bein’ a pa …. guidin’ a child though life? ….. I aint really ever thought about it like that before…. Hope I’m up to it."

Cloud Dancing smiled. "You do not have to wonder. You have only to observe your son to see that he has a father who is doing his job well."

The two men’s eyes met and then Sully held out his hand to Cloud Dancing. "Thankyou …. *agin* ….," he said quietly.

As they wandered towards the main fire Cloud Dancing asked, "And how is Michaela? I am glad she did not make the journey out here today. The cold and the wagon ride must be difficult for her."

"Yeah … she finds it hard to do a lotta things now … only a few weeks to go …. She gits tired all the time," replied Sully, his mind suddenly full of pictures of his beautiful pregnant wife resting at home. "She’ll be out here tomorrow or the next day though … she wants ta check on Little Blackbird …. an’ visit with you of course. Then we won’t be able to come out for a few days … gotta do a few things. But you send for us if Little Blackbird gits worse …. An’ I reckon Brian’ll be out here most days."

They reached the fire and squatted down beside it, holding their hands out to the leaping flames. Cloud Dancing asked nonchalantly, "Have you seen Dorothy lately? It is many days since she visited here."

"Yeah," replied Sully warily. "We saw her at lunch today. She seemed fine … though maybe a bit tired …. runnin’ the Gazette an’ all." Cloud Dancing nodded his head while Sully tried to think of something more positive to say. Suddenly he remembered the envelope Dorothy had given him earlier in the day. He took it from his pocket and handed it to Cloud Dancing. "Here," he said. "Dorothy asked me to give this to ya."

Cloud Dancing carefully tore the envelope open and withdrew the yellow telegram it held. Sully peered across at Horace’s neat handwriting. "Its from Daniel," he said wonderingly. Cloud Dancing passed the telegram to him. Sully continued, "Says that the land known as Palmer Creek is private property, but those in need of the natural shelter and food it holds are welcome to use it lawfully, unimpeded by the army or the law, by order of the owner." His hand holding the wire dropped to his knee and he grinned at his brother. "That’s mighty clever of Dorothy …. Don’ say anythin’ ‘bout indians … so Daniel don’ git into any trouble … an’ yet we could use it to slow the army down if they turned up here …. Could argue they had no right to come snoopin’ on private land ….. while you an’ Flyin’ Hawk’s people git away. They’d search anyway if they wanted …. but Dorothy was right …. it just might slow ‘em down."

Cloud Dancing took the paper back from Sully, folded it carefully and placed it in his pouch. "It is good that Dorothy tries to help my people," he said quietly. "I would like her to learn more of them through this small group … but she stays in town … much more than she was doing …"

Sully turned to face the medicine man. "You miss her?" he asked quietly.

"I have become used to her ways …. To hearing her talk of people and places …. Of the comfort she brings me ….. I no longer feel alone …. But now I fear she has turned away from me … and I have no reason for it," replied Cloud Dancing, his troubled eyes dropping to the ground.

Sully played over in his mind Dorothy’s strange behaviour in the caf� earlier, and then recalled the many times he’d seen her and his brother together - Christmas, out here at Palmer Creek …. and a thought struck him. "Cloud Dancin’ … have ya ever told Dorothy how you feel about her?" he asked quietly. "I don’ mean to pry but I was just wonderin’……."

"It is difficult for Dorothy and me … we are from two different worlds … we have come together slowly …," the indian replied.

"Dorothy said somethin’ today ‘bout you bein’ with your own people now an’ appreciatin’ the company …. Like maybe you don’ need *her* company any more …," explained Sully. "Maybe she feels like she was important to you only cos you were lonely. I don’ know how the two of you really feel about each other …. But I’m guessin’ its more than fillin’ up the loneliness … I reckon maybe you need to talk."

Cloud Dancing’s brow suddenly cleared and he smiled wryly at his brother. "It was not too long ago when I was advising you to follow your heart with Michaela and now you do the same for me. I shall visit in town tomorrow."

As the two men sat in companionable silence before the fire Brian joined them, squatting down close to them. "Look pa, Cloud Dancin’," he said excitedly. "Look what Flyin’ Hawk just gave me." He held out an indian amulet of fine leather, trimmed with fur.

"Flying Hawk must think very highly of you to have given such a gift," said Cloud Dancing proudly. "A gift like this is given to recognise a young brave’s courage and honour …. I believe that Flying Hawk is pleased you brought Little Blackbird back to his people and with your devotion to him since then. This gift will remind you always that you are a man of honour."

Sully reached out, placed his arm around Brian’s shoulders and drew him close. "I’m proud of you son. This’ll remind you of Little Blackbird an’ *his* strength and courage too …. I pray to the spirits that all my children’ll be as honourable."

Brian blushed and carefully placed the amulet in the pocket of his coat.

Robert E stood at the head of the long, heavily laden table in Grace’s caf�. Along its length on both sides sat their friends, all gathered to celebrate the christening of Michael Anthony. He cleared his throat. "Uh … um …. I-I just wanted ta thank you all for comin’ an’ sharin’ this day with Grace an’ me an’ Michael," he said humbly. "Me an’ Grace waited a long time for our baby boy an’ it sure makes us proud that everyone here wants to share our joy. We especially want ta thank Sully an’ Dr Mike for agreein’ to be Michael’s godparents … we know he’s in good hands. I hope you’ll all enjoy Grace’s fine cookin’ an’ thanks agin." He sat down to a round of applause and a kiss from his elated wife.

"You’re welcome Robert E, Grace," remarked Michaela, as she leant forward and placed her hand over her friend’s on the table, giving it a friendly, confidential squeeze. She was startled when Sully suddenly stood, glass in hand and waited for everyone to quieten.

"You all know I aint one for makin’ speeches … but this occasion’s too important to let go by," he said sincerely. He turned to face Robert E and Grace. "Me an’ Michaela are the ones thankin’ you … for trustin’ us to be Michael’s godparents. We hope to live up to the responsibility you’ve given us. I couldn’ be prouder to be a godparent to a child named for my beautiful wife." He looked down to see Michaela blushing amidst the good-natured chuckles of many at the table. He continued, "Now I’d like to make a toast to Colorado Springs’ newest citizen …. May he have the strength and honesty of his father an’ the good looks an’ spirit of his mother." He raised his glass and everyone stood. "To Michael Anthony."

"To Michael Anthony," resounded down the length of the table and then everyone sat down and the previous babble of lively conversation resumed.

Michaela leant across to her husband and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "Well done," she whispered. "Perhaps you should make speeches more often."

"Nah … once is enough …. Just thought it was my duty ….." He glanced down to see his wife was doing her best to stifle a yawn. "Had enough to eat?" he asked.

"Mmmm plenty …. What I’d give to be able to cook like Grace …"

He felt her lean in tiredly against him. "Ready to go?" he asked. "Grace an’ Robert E won’t might if we leave a little before the others."

"Are you sure?" asked Michaela, her eyes scanning the animated group of family and townspeople sitting at the long table. "It wouldn’t be rude?"

"Everyone knows why we’d be leavin’. A few months on an’ we’ll be sittin’ here celebratin’ *our* baby’s christenin’ hey? … Come on …. You need to rest."

"What about the children … they mightn’t want to leave just yet," Michaela weakly protested.

"That’s alright …. Matthew’ll take ‘em home."

"And Katie?"

"Katie too …"

Sully quickly explained to Grace and Robert E that Michaela needed to rest and a few minutes later they were up in the wagon with Michaela covered by a warm blanket. They waved to those at the caf� and set off. Michaela leant in against Sully fighting the urge to close her eyes. Suddenly she sat bolt upright and looked around in puzzlement. "This isn’t the way home Sully!" she exclaimed.

"No it aint," he replied noncommittedly.

"Where are we going?"

"You’ll see …. Its a surprise," rejoined Sully, tucking her hand securely into the crook of his elbow.

"You’ll see … come on," he replied, again lifting his arms to her.

Michaela, cold and tired, stayed seated in the wagon. "But Myra’s back in town at Grace and Robert E’s party ….," she protested. "She’s the only reason why we’d be out here and not at home."

"Well … she aint the reason … an’ I think its time you got down an’ we went in outta the cold," rejoined Sully, mimicking her indignant tone.

Michaela’s eyes narrowed. "You’re not going to tell me are you?" she muttered.

"Nope," replied Sully smugly.

Michaela paused, considering her options, then shrugged her shoulders and threw aside the blanket which had been providing some protection from the freezing wind. "Alright then," she conceded, but added peevishly, "The reason better be worth it." Sully smiled up at her in delight at her acquiescence and her reservations abruptly melted away. When he looked at her like that nothing else seemed to matter. She stood and placed her hands on his shoulders, allowing him to gently lift her down.

Once on the ground, Sully left her for just a moment and returned with two bags he’d taken from the back of the wagon.

"I didn’t notice those before," Michaela remarked, still somewhat puzzled by Sully’s actions.

"Weren’t lookin’," he commented casually. "Come on." He raised his elbow, inviting her to take his arm and they walked towards the entrance.

It was much warmer in the hotel lobby. The glow of the decorative oil lamps lining the walls gave it a subdued, relaxed air, which combined with the opulence of the furnishings and the roaring fire in the large hearth, was no doubt very inviting to new arrivals. Michaela, of course, had passed these portals many times and had almost become immune to their attraction, except today she was unsure of the reason for her presence and so lingered, casting her eyes around the ornate, beautifully proportioned lobby. Sully however, made straight for the reception desk. "Mr and Mrs Sully," he said quietly to Bailey, the young clerk in charge of the desk this day.

"Of course sir," the young man replied. "Your room is ready." He turned and unhooked a room key from its customary position amongst a symmetrical arrangement of similar devices. "Room 117," he said informatively. "Down to the far end of the lobby and turn left, last door on the right, as you requested sir …. Oh …. and we’ll see to your horse and buggy," he explained.

Sully nodded his thanks and once again took up their bags.

"Sully!" exclaimed Michaela. "What *are* we doing here? We have a very comfortable home only a couple of miles away."

Sully began to amble slowly away from her. "Uh huh," he replied. "You comin’?"

For a brief moment Michaela eyed the front door and their wagon parked in the forecourt and then turned back to see Sully disappearing round the corner ahead. She shook her head ruefully and scurried after him. Just when she thought she was beginning to understand him he’d go and do something like this!

As she neared the corner Bailey suddenly hailed her. "Ah Mrs Sully ….. I mean Dr Quinn …. Sorry, but I was told to give this to you, when you next came in, I just remembered," he called, waving a slip of white paper at her. Michaela quickly returned, grasped the paper, mumbled her thanks and again lifted her skirts and scurried after Sully. She finally caught up with him at a large ornate door bearing the numbers 117 in brass. He was inserting the key into the lock. "What would you have done if I’d gone back to the wagon and headed for home?" she asked him, a stubborn glint in her eye.

"Dunno ….. figured you wouldn’t …"

"Oh you did, did you?"

"Uh huh." He swung the unlocked door open, waited for her to precede him into the room, followed and closed the door quietly behind them.

"And why did you think that?" She cast intrigued eyes around the beautiful room, its large picture window providing an unbroken, panoramic view of woods and the snow-covered mountains beyond.

"Know ya too well …. You’re too curious …. You’da wanted to know what I was up to …" He placed the bags down, and walked nonchalantly across to the window to draw the velvet and lace curtains back as far as possible.

"And what *are* you up to?" asked Michaela softly, sidling over to stand beside him as he stared out over the beautiful, yet bleak winter landscape.

"Gonna spend a night an’ a day with my beautiful, pregnant wife …. alone …. just the two of us…," he murmured, turning slightly to gaze into her now sparkling eyes.

She took a small step closer. "And why now? ….. today?" she asked breathily. "What about the children ….. Little Blackbird?…."

He closed the small distance between them and cupped her face lovingly in his hands. "The kids know where we are …. An’ if anythin’ goes wrong with Little Blackbird Matthew’ll come an’ git us."

She leant into him, holding his clear blue-eyed gaze. "You didn’t answer my first question," she said softly. "Why today?"

Sully shrugged his shoulders. "Figured we betta take the chance when we could …. Baby could arrive early like Katie ….. maybe in the next coupla weeks …. Then it’ll be months before we can be alone agin ….. an’ I figured you could do with some pamperin’ about now."

Michaela raised her arms to encircle his waist and leaned her cheek against his grey suited chest. "You figured hmmm?"

"Yep."

"Very extravagant …," she murmured.

"Maybe …. but my wife deserves pamperin’ every now an’ then," he rejoined, his breath ruffling her hair. "Which reminds me … time you were restin’…. Then we’re gonna have a real nice supper …. How does ice-cream for dessert sound?" He watched Michaela’s eyes light up as she peered up at him. "As long as ya eat your greens first …," he chuckled.

"Mmm … you’ve thought of everything haven’t you," she murmured, as he slowly slid the pins from her stylish sky blue hat. He tossed it aside, and proceeded to disassemble the coppery coils of hair piled high on her crown, until the unfettered tresses tumbled down her back to her waist. He lovingly ran his fingers through the silky strands and massaged her scalp with his fingertips. "Mmmm … if this is your idea of pampering ….. I could get used to it," she sighed, relaxing against him. Abruptly a yawn escaped, exacerbated by Sully’s gentle ministrations.

He pulled back a little. "Come on Mrs Sully," he said lovingly. "Let’s git you into bed."

Sully looked up from his book, in which he’d been absorbed for the last hour or so, to see the clouds tinged pink with the sunset. He realised that Michaela would soon have to be woken if they were to enjoy their elegant supper in the Chateau dining-room. He rose from the comfortable brocade chair, then squatted down to prod at the glowing embers in the fireplace with the brass poker. The flames, revived, cast frolicking shadows on the bedroom wall in the eerie light of dusk. He swivelled around as Michaela moved restlessly in her sleep and muttered something unintelligible. He knew it was difficult for her now, always being uncomfortable, the baby moving almost constantly, or so it seemed. She struggled to turn onto her side and then flung her arm out as if seeking him. Again she grimaced as the rolling aggravated the nagging pain in her back. He shook his head helplessly. He so dearly wished he could bear some of the pain and inconvenience the next few weeks would bring her. Perhaps a little holding would help for the moment. He stood, removed his boots and climbed up onto the large bed beside her. He edged close, slid his arm in under her shoulders and drew her in against himself, the baby resting against his hip and stomach. Her hand came out to rest on his shirt-covered chest and she smiled with contentment. He couldn’t resist bringing his hand down to rest on her stomach sheathed by the soft cotton nightgown she had donned for comfort.

His heart began to beat a little faster when he realised how close they were to delivering another baby, and again their lives would be forever changed. Not only *their* lives but those of the entire family, especially Katie. He gently caressed the taut mound, moving in ever widening circles, his touch loving, protective, possessive. *His* wife and *his* baby. He still marvelled at how good that sounded, even after more than three years of marriage.

His hand became more sensuous as the rhythmic caressing continued.

Michaela was having a delicious dream. They were laying by the fire under the stars, the lean-to behind them ready for use in case the weather turned. He was nuzzling her neck and whispering words of love and her only desire was to be close to him, to feel his arms around her, while the creatures of the capricious woods enfolding them, paid them no mind. She edged in even closer to him, her hand seeming to move of its own accord down his chest, hampered by the unlikely buttoned shirt he wore …. her mind registering that Sully never wore dress shirts in the woods …. and then, when it encountered the waistband and thicker fabric of his suit pants, halting uncertainly. But, as he grasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, holding it against his lips, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the veins on its back, she realised that she wasn’t dreaming, and that the venue was certainly not what her imagination had conjured up. He *was* nuzzling her neck and caressing her hand but they were laying together on a bed at the Chateau. The room was pleasantly warm and the crackling of the fire clearly audible. She took a few deep breaths, unwilling to open her eyes, just savouring his loving touch and nearness.

She suddenly recalled that, years ago, when she’d begun to realise the depth of her feelings for Sully, the thought of this sort of this closeness had frightened her, made her shy away from his tentative advances. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without him, being with him, loving him and he loving her. She had been so naive then, been totally unaware of the ways his hands, voice, breath, mouth, could arouse her and take her to places she’d never dreamed possible. She could feel her heart beginning to pound at the thought and her skin warm. He returned her hand to his chest and then took up a gentle, stirring stroking of her swollen stomach and full breasts.

Finally, she could maintain the pretence no longer and softly moaned, "Mmmm …. that feels good." When he did not reply she peered up at him through sleepy eyes and added softly, "What are you thinking about?"

He smiled down at her and shrugged his shoulders. "Nothin’ much …"

"Nothing much?"

"Mmm ….. was just enjoyin’ holdin’ ya …" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He would never tire of the overwhelming sensations he always felt when touching Michaela, sensations which were so compelling that he often felt the need to be close at the most inopportune times. He chuckled softly to himself.

Michaela slipped her hand in between the buttons of his shirt to lay it over the bare skin of his muscular chest and whispered, "What’s so funny?"

"I was just rememberin’ …. all those Sunday church services, especially before we were married, when I’d slide closer real quiet like …. just so’s I could feel ya warmth, smell ya skin an’ maybe touch, just a little."

Michaela blushed. "I knew …," she murmured.

"I know ya did," he replied lovingly. "You’d give me that beautiful shy smile an’ ya eyes’d shine….. an’ my stomach’d turn somersaults. No way to behave in church I know …. but couldn’ control it …. still can’t sometimes …. Course that’s bin happenin’ almost since the day I met you."

"You do it to me too," rejoined Michaela softly. "Especially across the dinner table …. at home … Grace’s …. it doesn’t matter where … Makes me feel breathless and I have difficulty concentrating …"

"Aint bin happenin’ much lately then," smiled Sully wryly. "You aint bin havin’ any trouble concentratin’ on eatin’." When she blushed and lowered her eyes he leant down and claimed her lips with his for a long, leisurely, *very* arousing kiss. As the dinner gong resounded through the corridors of the Chateau, Sully broke off their kiss and whispered breathlessly, "Speakin’ of which …. time to git ready for supper …"

Sully pulled out Michaela’s chair as a waiter hovered near with the menus and water pitcher. As he gently pushed the chair in he leant over and whispered against her ear, "See …. prettiest woman in the room."

Michaela reddened at his compliment and lowered her eyes to the enticing menu placed in front of her. While they’d been dressing she’d been a little depressed about her very rounded figure, bemoaning the fact that the beautiful blue and cream dress she and Colleen had made for the Christmas dance now only just fit, and was even a little tight across her breasts. She longed for the return of her usual slim figure and the ability to wear stylish gowns instead of these ‘tents’. Sully of course had dismissed her concerns, telling and showing her that he still thought her the most beautiful woman in the world. His loving rejoinders helped, but she silently did a quick count in her head - just three weeks until her figure would begin to return to normal.

While they waited for their dinner to be brought to the table, Michaela’s interested eyes surveyed the plush room and their fellow diners. Several had already been seated before they entered and others were awaiting the attendance of the maitre’d. Although she still had reservations about Sully being so extravagant as to book them into the Chateau for the night, she had to admit she enjoyed the dressing up and the opulence of their surroundings. They so seldom had an opportunity to enjoy such time alone and in such luxury.

Sully, his back to the room, was unable to observe the goings on at the other tables, but that suited him fine, he had eyes only for Michaela. Her sleep this afternoon had revived the sparkle in her eyes and the glow to her skin, and the pretty sky blue of her dress suited her. He reached across and surreptitiously laid his hand over hers. He’d asked the waiter for a table to the side, where they’d draw as little attention as possible, and at this angle he could hold her hand without too many people noticing. He suddenly observed Michaela’s eyes open wide with interest and a slight grin tilt the corners of her mouth upwards. "Who’d ya see?" he asked, intrigued.

"Oh …. just another couple having supper like us …. well threesome actually," she replied casually.

"By the look in your eyes its someone ya know," he retorted with amusement.

"Mmm …. it is …. Its Hank and Myra ….. he must have brought her and Samantha home from Grace’s and stayed to have supper with them." She paused, observing Hank as he leant forward to respond to something Myra had said. "Hank seems to be wearing his heart on his sleeve these days. I can’t believe he’s paid the bill for her stay here again." she mused, recalling her astonishment when she’d unfolded the piece of paper given to her this afternoon by the clerk, to discover that it was a receipt for Myra’s expenses. "I wonder what Myra thinks of the attention? I hope he isn’t going to be hurt."

"Few years back I doubt you’da bin worryin’ about Hank’s feelin’s," chuckled Sully. When Michaela momentarily looked a little hurt he added, "Wonder where Horace is?"

Michaela shrugged her shoulders. "He still comes out here most afternoons I believe …. But the closeness they had … well it seems to have dissipated. He still dotes on Samantha though."

"That aint surprisin’ … she’s a real good kid …"

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the booming voice of a male guest being escorted to his table in the centre of the room. "A whisky and a steak … rare …. young man … and I expect I will not have to wait too long …," he ordered peremptorily of the flustered waiter attending him. Several diners turned to stare agog at the owner of such a belligerent manner. Then suddenly, as the large, ruddy-complexioned fellow leant against the back of his chair a little too heavily, it tilted alarmingly and crashed to the floor. Sully swung around as the despot pulled himself upright, turned outraged eyes on the harried young waiter and spat with venom, "Well pick it up boy …. and I’m still waiting for that whisky .."

"Yes sir …," murmured the waiter, visions of his employment being abruptly terminated flashing through his mind. He straightened the chair, thrust the menu at the man, quickly laid his napkin across his knee and hastened towards the bar and kitchen.

Sully turned back to Michaela, shaking his head. "Fancy clothes an’ money don’ necessarily make a gentleman eh?" he remarked.

Michaela nodded in disgust. "That’s so true." She sat back as their plates of baked chicken and vegetables were placed in front of them, her eyes lighting up as she inhaled the delicious aroma. She then smiled happily across at Sully and picked up her knife and fork.

Throughout the relaxed meal Sully kept his eye on Michaela and, as her stomach gradually filled, her eyes, when they weren’t looking into his, began to roam around the room, absorbing the sights and atmosphere. Then abruptly, for no apparent reason, she coloured and dropped her eyes to her plate. His brow creased in consternation. She continued to eat, but with a little less enthusiasm. As he again engaged her in conversation, her high colour slowly abated and she relaxed. Then suddenly she once more looked uncomfortable or concerned about something she’d observed behind him. "You alright Michaela?" he asked. She placed another forkful in her mouth and nodded. Her eyes kept drifting back to something or someone over his right shoulder. She finally leaned back in her chair, wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin, and placed her utensils together on her dinner plate. Her eyes dropped to where her fingers idly traced the embossing on the damask tablecloth.

Sully swivelled around in his seat to investigate the diners behind him. All seemed calm, though he noted that the man who’d made such a commotion earlier had eaten little of his steak but was drinking his way steadily through a bottle of whisky he’d insisted the waiter leave at his table. Myra and Hank caught Sully’s eye and he turned back to Michaela. "You worried ‘bout Hank?" he asked softly, not understanding the change in her demeanour. When she shook her head, he asked, "Myra?" Again she gave him a negative response.

"I’m alright," she said softly.

"You ready for some ice-cream then?" he asked with an expectant smile. He was astonished when she shook her head and said quietly. "I think I’d like to go back to our room …. alright?" Sully was now certain something was wrong. "Is it the baby Michaela? You uncomfortable?"

"No …. I’m fine …. *really* …. I’d just like to leave …." A curious, steely glint had appeared in her eyes.

Sully shrugged his shoulders in defeat and rose from his chair. "I’ll just go over an’ tell our waiter we’re leavin’ an’ not to bother ‘bout dessert," he said quietly, then strode away across the room.

Michaela watched him go with some misgiving as the object of her concern immediately rose from his seat and wended his way towards her, bumping into various tables and chairs as he did so. The ruddy-faced man stopped at her table, leant forward so that his face seemed to be only inches from hers, rested his plump, sweaty hand on her shoulder and drawled stridently, "Been watching you missy …. cross the way there …. pretty little thing you are ….." The alcohol fumes in his breath made Michaela want to choke and her stomach turned over. He continued, "Pleased to make your acquaintance …. Silas Jensen at your service." His hold on her shoulder tightened a little, his thumb digging into her neck. When Michaela did not reply he sneered, "No reason to be impolite now …. I’ve introduced myself …. now only civil for you to do likewise ….."

Sully turned back from speaking to the waiter only to see Michaela cringing back as the large, inebriated man leant towards her, his hand inappropriately resting on her shoulder. He appeared to be whispering into her ear. Sully hurried across the room with, unbeknownst to him, Hank hot on his heels. As he neared the table he heard the drunk murmur, "A couple of drinks with me would loosen your tongue missy …. perhaps later in the salon?" Sully took a few deep breaths to steady his rising temper and said only loudly enough for the diners close by to hear, "Sir …. I’d appreciate it if you’d take your hand off my wife’s shoulder."

The man turned sharply to stare at him, almost losing his balance as he did so. "Just having a bit of fun," he retorted. "The lady here knows that …. don’t you missy?"

Michaela paled as the man’s fume-laden breath again filled her nostrils. She grabbed at her napkin, holding it to her nose and mouth. Sully repeated his request, this time a little more loudly, "Please take your hand off my wife."

The man straightened up to face Sully but retained his grasp on Michaela’s shoulder. He eyed Sully defiantly. "What’s your problem?" he sneered. He suddenly reeled a little and leant some of his abundant weight against Michaela. Sully had had enough! He stepped forward, almost chest to chest, and grasped the man’s arm. His voice like steel, he insisted. "Remove your hand an’ leave … or I’ll make sure you do both!"

The man, his confidence buoyed by the alcohol he’d consumed, laughed derisively and slid his hand down Michaela’s arm. In response, Sully grasped him by the collar and lifted him some inches, so that only the toes of his highly polished black boots made contact with the floor. "Now are ya gonna leave of your own accord … or am I gonna throw you out?" he threatened, his face red and the veins in his neck bulging.

The man’s chuckle was now nervous rather than confident. "No reason to be like that," he muttered. "I was only in the mood for a little fun."

Sully’s hands at the man’s throat tightened.

"Sully …. please don’t make a scene," whispered Michaela, tugging at his sleeve. "We’ll just leave."

"He deserves to be thrown out Michaela," Sully rationalised.

"I know …. But please don’t do anything …. He’s drunk …"

The man suddenly spluttered. "Drunk?! I am not …. Never been drunk in my life …."

At this juncture, aware of Michaela’s discomfiture, Hank stepped in. "Let me take it from here Sully," he said quietly but with authority. "Bin watchin’ this fella all night …. makin’ eyes at Michaela behind ya back." When Sully’s eyes narrowed in anger he hastily continued, "I’m gonna be headin’ back soon …. A night in the town jail to sober up is what he needs …"

Sully eyed him dubiously.

"I see ‘em like this everyday Sully …. Probably won’t even remember what he done when he wakes up in the mornin’. You take your wife home …," insisted Hank. "*She* needs ya attention more ‘an this old goat …"

"Old goat?!," spluttered Mr Jensen. "Well I never …"

As Hank grasped the man by the back of his coat and led him away, he remarked, "Ya *never* a lotta things huh …. like never had a night in jail …. That’s what you’ll tell ‘em the next time eh old timer?" and laughed at his own joke.

As the pair left the dining room, Sully turned back to Michaela who had stood and was hastily draping her shawl around her shoulders, her face unreadable. "Still wanna go back to our room huh?" he said quietly. Michaela nodded and so he held out his arm to her and led her away from the curious eyes of the diners who had observed the unsavoury incident.

The short walk to their room was conducted in silence. Once inside Sully set about rekindling the fire which had died down to only a few glowing embers. Michaela sat herself on the edge of a large brocade chair and fixed her eyes on the rejuvenated flames. When Sully turned to look at her he immediately noticed that her eyes were welling with tears. He knelt beside her. "Michaela?" he asked softly. "Did he hurt ya?"

She shook her head but the tears overflowed and rolled silently down her cheeks. Sully reached up and tenderly brushed them away with his fingertips. She grasped his hand and held it against her cheek. "I’m sorry Sully," she whispered.

"Sorry?!"

"I didn’t mean for that to happen."

"I know that …. He was a drunk ….. a real ungentlemanly drunk," consoled Sully. "You had nothin’ to do with it …. except to maybe look too beautiful there in the lamplight."

Despite the tears still slowly falling Michaela smiled and tilted her head to kiss the palm of his hand. "I should have told you what he was doing behind your back," she whispered. "My foolish pride again I guess ….. I thought I could handle it just by ignoring him …"

"Fools like him …. There aint no way to handle ‘em …. Hank an’ you were right …. Wouldn’a served any purpose to’ve made a scene …. I just got so angry to see him touchin’ ya ….. Aint any man allowed to do that …. ‘cept me …. an’ maybe Matthew an’ Brian …." Sully leant a little closer and gave her a light kiss. "He did spoil things a little though …. I’m sorry … tonight was supposed to be special …."

"It *is* special Sully ….. I love you so much for wanting to protect me …. And for thinking of bringing me here …. We still have tonight and tomorrow," murmured Michaela. "Alone."

"Mmm …. we do don’ we?" replied Sully softly. This time his kiss was a little more passionate and prolonged. He then stood and drew her to her feet so that he could hold her more closely and gently caress her stomach and back.

Michaela sighed with contentment. "You make me feel so cherished," she said softly. After he’d again kissed her long and hard a thought occurred to her. "You remember …. we can’t …"

His hand came up to tenderly cover her lips. "I remember," he said lovingly. "You’re inside the last month …. that’s alright …. Like I said this afternoon …. I love just holdin’ ya." He pulled back a little and a sudden secretive smile appeared on his face. "How ‘bout you git ready for bed an’ I’ll be back in a minute." He headed for the door. "I’ll lock up behind me …. don’ want any more unwanted visitors."

"Sully?" queried Michaela, puzzled.

He pulled the door open, gave her a wink and closed it behind himself. Michaela heard him turn the key on the outside.

A few minutes later she once again heard the key turn and Sully re-entered, a cloth-covered bowl in his hands. She’d just pulled her white, cotton nightgown on over her head and tugged at it so that it fell straight to the floor, accentuating the mound of her pregnancy. Sully smiled at her in delight. "If I was ever gonna try an’ paint a picture of you …. that’s how you’d look," he said softly.

Michaela blushed and then turned to climb up on the bed. She perched herself up against the pillows and contemplated her husband still standing fully clothed at the foot of the bed. "What’s in the bowl?" she asked interestedly.

"Somethin’ I thought ya’d like," he replied. He placed the bowl down on the nightstand, quickly divested himself of his suit, climbed up beside her and reached across to lift the bowl. He removed the cover with a flourish to reveal a large helping of chocolate and vanilla ice-cream. "Didn’ want ya missin’ out just cos of some old fool," he said. Michaela’s eyes lit up with delight. He handed her the bowl and reached for his suit coat from which he extracted two spoons and napkins. "That should do it," he stated proudly.

"You *have* thought of everything Sully," she exclaimed.

"Uh huh." He delved the spoon into the creamy confection and then held it to her lips. As she slowly ate from the spoon, her sultry gaze fixed with his, he murmured, "Maybe that fella did us a favour …. Eatin’ ice-cream *this* way might be fun."

The next few minutes were occupied with feeding each other spoonfuls of the icy dessert, interspersed with many sticky kisses. When they’d finally finished, after scraping the interior surface of the bowl with their fingers and licking the residue from them, they eyed each other’s unusual appearance and burst into rollicking laughter. Each bore a chocolate moustache and sticky globules on their chins and hands. "If only the kids, specially Katie, could see us now," giggled Sully, as he attempted to lick Michaela’s gooey moustache away.

In reply Michaela chuckled, "The kids! What about some of our friends ….. mother! They’d never believe it." She bent to lick at a large chocolaty drop on his chin. "That’s something I love about you Sully …. life is always unpredictable." She stopped and giggled again. "I can’t believe I said that!" she exclaimed. "Years ago I remember telling Dorothy I liked to make plans … I didn’t like things being unpredictable …"

"Well … just goes to show …. I’ve had some influence on ya over the years Michaela," whispered Sully, suddenly serious.