For personal and select distribution only � September 1997
by Pam Hunter

Sully woke from his doze with a start as Michaela’s head dropped onto his shoulder. His head snapped up and he looked around in bewilderment. It took a moment for him to realise where he was and then memories of the past few days came flooding back. He looked down on the beautiful face of his sleeping wife. She had not woken when her cheek hit his shoulder, but he knew that if she had, she would’ve immediately put distance between them as she’d been doing ever since they’d left San Francisco.

Despite their troubles at the moment, the rhythmic movement and sound of the train bearing them towards Denver and Michaela resting on the leather seat beside him, evoked special memories and feelings in Sully. He could never travel on a train with Michaela now without remembering their honeymoon and all that had entailed. She moved restlessly against him and sighed in her sleep. Sully watched as her eyelids fluttered and she mouthed a few unintelligible words. She was so angry with him at the moment and he didn’t know how to make her understand that he regretted what he’d done.

He thought back over the weeks leading up to their departure from Colorado Springs. When Michaela had expressed an interest in attending the Western Medical Convention in San Francisco some months back, he’d been both surprised at her wish and a little reluctant to go with her. The thought of spending several days in the company of a large number of disapproving male doctors didn’t exactly appeal to him. But then, at the urging of their family, he’d agreed to accompany her - a sort of second honeymoon, even if it meant that she would be involved in a number of lectures and events during the Convention and he would in turn be forced to spend time alone in a strange city. As their departure drew closer, he’d eagerly anticipated the train journeys to and from the western seaboard and the days and nights spent alone with his beautiful wife without the worries of family, medical clinics, house building and so on.

The journey had certainly started very well. They set out on a crisp, yet sunny Thursday morning from Colorado Springs and enjoyed their brief overnight stays in Denver, Salt Lake and Carson City. Since Katie’s birth more than three years ago they’d rarely had the opportunity to spend such time together.

It was only after they arrived in San Francisco that things started to go downhill. It wasn’t the fact that he was forced to spend so much time on his own - he actually used it to surreptitiously make inquiries about the kids’ father, Ethan Cooper. And one wonderful afternoon he and Michaela strolled along the up and down streets of the city, arm in arm, all the way to the bustling docks, where they peered out over a windswept bay and observed hundreds of uniformed sailors working eagerly on the rigging of the imposing, tall-masted ships about to set sail for foreign climes. And, the fancy suits and polite conversation, or the number of times he was referred to as Mr Quinn (it had happened before and would probably happen again, he realised with resignation) didn’t cause too much friction. But the *real* problem was the attitude of many of those holier-than-thou doctors towards Michaela, the only female delegate at the Convention.

He watched during the official first night dinner and then later, on any number of occasions, as they attempted to belittle her, questioning her skills and knowledge, the size and quality of her practice in Colorado Springs and her ability to successfully operate a medical practice and be a wife and mother as well. Some of these comments were directed at him in a derisive manner as if he was expected to agree with them! Through it all Michaela maintained her usual poise and carried on stoically, at least in public, but Sully’s temper and blood began to boil.

Two doctors in particular seemed to make a point of deriding Michaela at every available opportunity, always in the presence of others, never on their own. Dr Pritchard was a little weasel of a man, thin-lipped and sharp featured, younger than Michaela and obviously totally against women in medicine (if the truth be known, probably against women entering any profession). Dr Mills was tall and extremely rotund, ruddy-complexioned and narrow-eyed, also younger and also extremely rude. A couple of times even Dr Cassidy from Denver (an old sparring partner of Michaela’s) had the good grace to squirm while these two ‘gentlemen’ made crass remarks about her abilities, her *little* practice and *poor* clientele. Each night, after suffering through their implied criticisms and inexcusable behaviour, Michaela and he returned to their room where Michaela restlessly paced the floor in anger, adding fuel to the fire building up in Sully.

He’d honestly forgotten how badly he’d seen Michaela treated in Boston a few years ago, expecting that since she’d been accepted as a member of the American Medical Society, the attitudes of male doctors towards her would have been more professional. But he had been very wrong, and in San Francisco the male doctors at the Convention did not have those Boston or eastern manners compelling them to at least maintain some veneer of civility.

Just before dawn on the third morning, Sully woke with Michaela held warmly in his arms and yet instantly aware that something was wrong. It was still dark, the sky just beginning to lighten in the distance, a chilly sea breeze wafting in the partly open window. He realised that Michaela was trembling, but not from the cold. He gently turned her onto her back, reached out in the darkness to trace her features with his fingertips and encountered the dampness of tears, silently rolling down her cheeks. She turned her face into his chest and he drew her close, not knowing what he could say to help, only knowing that she didn’t deserve the treatment she’d been receiving from many of her ‘colleagues’. He held her close, tenderly caressing her back and shoulders, lightly kissing the tears on her cheeks away. Gradually, her crying abated and she held him close, taking comfort from his love and support.

On the morning of the fourth and final day of the Convention, as Michaela presented her paper based largely on the use of herbs in the treatment of various maladies, the manners of both Drs Pritchard and Mills, in Sully’s eyes, went beyond the pale. It was as if they had opted to attend her presentation with the express purpose of belittling and heckling her. Each statement she made, each assertion she put, drew forth an incredulous snort or a derisive chuckle. Through it all Michaela continued as if her antagonists were invisible. The audience was small, and the eyes of many of those present gradually dropped to the floor and were not raised again until she finished and they were able to shuffle quickly towards the door. Meanwhile Sully stood at the rear of the gathering, his rage increasing with every minute. He had not attended many other official sessions, but had been keen to see Michaela present the paper she’d spent many weeks working on in the candlelight late at night, especially as it referred to much of the knowledge she’d gained from Cloud Dancing. And his rage was not just directed at Dr Pritchard and Dr Mills. He was astounded that not one of those who had expressed an interest in what she had to say by selecting her presentation to attend, had defended her in any way. No-one made any effort to quieten the two men or to apologise to her for their behaviour. They merely hastened out of the room, unable to meet either Michaela’s or his eyes. Sully’s hands began to itch and he employed a great deal of self-control to avoid making the scene that Michaela dreaded.

The Convention was to conclude with an official luncheon in the ballroom of the grand hotel at which most of the activities had taken place. After lunching, the delegates would go their various ways via train and stagecoach to places as far afield as Phoenix and Pueblo.

As he and Michaela entered the ballroom it was obvious that she’d been the topic of conversation amongst some of the groups mingling over pre-luncheon drinks. As they passed these groups, their conversation died away, they closed ranks, excluding the couple, and then watched them as they moved on. There were a few sympathetic looks in their direction and they at last joined a small group of which Dr Bernard from Denver and Michaela’s old friend Miriam Tilson and her husband were members.

The lunch itself was no more comfortable than the preliminaries, especially when the Convention organisers rose to thank all the delegates and asked them to show their appreciation for the work of the presenters. Michaela’s name was greeted with polite applause from a few of the assembled, but was also accompanied by more derisive snorts and heckling from Drs Mills and Pritchard.

Sully’d finally had enough! Oblivious to the remainder of the assembled luminaries, he rose quickly from his seat beside Michaela and strode angrily across the room to the two doctors in question. He was beyond Michaela’s weak attempts to stop him. In full view of the Convention he halted before the two men and pinned them with a steely gaze, like butterflies in a display case. They rose as one as he stepped even closer and ........

"Mmmm, Sully, where are we," muttered Michaela, as she was roused from her sleep by a change in the engine noise and the subsequent slowing of the train. She turned and leaned across him to peer sleepy-eyed out the window before remembering that she was still angry with him. She sat upright and straightened the skirt of her blue travelling gown.

"We’re about to pull into the Denver station Michaela," Sully said quietly.

She said nothing in reply but began to gather up their belongings in preparation for deboarding. Sully’s heart sank. It seemed that she was *still* angry and he had so looked forward to these last two days of their trip. The Colorado Chapter of the Convention was to convene here in Denver for further presentations and discussion before journeying on to their various destinations and he’d planned a few surprises for Michaela. But now it seemed that she was unlikely to appreciate his plans.

The train finally drew to a halt and he and Michaela alighted onto the Denver station. The brightening light of the many oil lamps lining the long wooden platform was just beginning to take over from the setting sun as a porter gathered their luggage together onto a trolley and they walked towards one of the many waiting carriages at the main station entrance. As the porter assisted Michaela into the carriage she turned to Sully and asked coolly, "Its the Royal Hotel isn’t it Sully ….. where the Chapter meetings are ….. where we’re staying?"

Sully looked at her a little sheepishly. "Ah…. Michaela, we aint got a reservation at that hotel …. I-I thought we might stay somewhere else," he muttered, now certain that his plans had been foolish.

Michaela looked at him in exasperation. She said wearily, "Have we got a reservation at that somewhere else Sully … and I hope its somewhere close."

"Yeah … its just a block from the Royal." He turned to address the driver. "The Denver Grand please," he said dispiritedly.

Michaela looked at him in surprise but remained silent.

The short trip to their Denver hotel was over far too quickly for Sully’s liking. Today, he decided, was certainly not the day for surprises, even if they were nice ones, so somehow he had to get up to their room before Michaela did, and he wasn’t at all sure how he was going to do that. The burly concierge at the reception desk greeted them cordially and then, after Sully had given their name and the register had been signed, the man proclaimed, "Ah yes, Mr and Mrs Sully … you’ve stayed here with us before I believe … welcome, and I hope that you will enjoy your stay."

Sully barely heard the concierge. He was racking his brains trying to come up with a way to delay Michaela. He was brought back to the present by the sharp peel of the bell summoning a porter to escort them to their suite. He said quickly, "Ah … Michaela …. maybe you’d like to rest before goin’ up …. or maybe have a cup of tea in the dining room?"

Again Michaela looked at him in exasperation. He was acting very strangely. She said determinedly, "Sully …. I’m grubby and tired from the train trip … I’d like to wash and change my clothes before doing anything else … now can we please go up?"

Sully shook his head resignedly and dejectedly followed Michaela and the porter up the wide polished mahogany staircase.

As they followed the porter down the second floor’s carpeted hallway it started to dawn on Michaela what was happening. She turned back to Sully as the porter stopped at a very familiar door. "This is where we …."

"Uh huh," he interrupted her quickly.

The porter unlocked the door, handed Sully the key and ushered them both inside with a flourish. Michaela was immediately aware as to why Sully had been looking nervous. The fire had been lit in preparation for their arrival and was sending a pleasant, welcoming warmth throughout the room which was illuminated by a lamp near the door and a large number of candles in ornate candelabras on the mantelpiece and the night stand. Also on the mantelpiece was an enormous bowl of red roses, echoed by a smaller one on one of the night-tables next to the bed - the heat from the fire was drawing out their heavy scent, saturating the air in the room. And on the bed was a large wrapped package. She gasped in surprise and, as the porter left and quietly closed the door behind himself, she turned to face her husband. For the first time in two days she smiled, albeit a little shamefaced.

She walked slowly towards the fireplace and buried her face in the vivid, red blooms in the elaborate, cut crystal bowl. She took a deep, deep breath and then reached up to gently finger the fragile petals.

Unable to see her face, unsure of her true feelings about it all and whether he’d been forgiven, Sully stood uncertainly near the doorway, one of their carpetbags still in hand, just watching her. He desperately wanted to reach out, to hold her, but he held back.

Her back to him, she murmured, "Its beautiful Sully ...... this is a very special place for us." Then she slowly turned to face him. "You planned this?" she asked softly, waving her hands, indicating the candles and the flowers.

"Uh huh," he replied in a low tone. His eyes dropped to the richly patterned carpet and he unconsciously traced the pattern with the toe of his boot. All of a sudden he raised his eyes to look directly into hers and said contritely, "I’m sorry Michaela."

She sighed. "Sully, if you’re sorry about changing our reservation and booking us back in here - this room ..... in this hotel - then there’s nothing to be sorry for because I love it," she said quietly. "And if you’re sorry for what happened in San Francisco ........... then you’re forgiven." She smiled wryly at him and then added, "Well .... almost ...... It depends on whether we hear anything from Miriam ... she promised to let me know if there was anything in the San Francisco newspapers." She slowly walked towards him. "I can never stay angry with you for long Sully ... I should’ve known that you’d plan something like this ....... and I know that you were only standing up for me against those ........ those ....... bullies." Her eyes filled up with the memory and she reached out to wrap her arms around his waist and lay her head against his grey suited chest.

Relieved that she had finally put aside his behaviour on the last day of the Convention, he dropped the carpetbag, enfolded her tightly in his arms and lightly and tenderly kissed her on the forehead.

After a long, loving moment, she pulled back from him a little, took his hand in hers and slowly drew him over to the large bay window of the bedroom they both remembered so fondly. She reached to grasp his strong arms and wrap herself tightly in them, leaning back into his chest, and together they watched the final, fiery dip of the sun beyond the magnificent Rocky Mountains in the distance. He rocked her gently in his arms, savouring the feel of her against him, thankful that the tension of the last few days was finally gone.

"It looks just the same Sully, doesn’t it? Its like stepping back in time. The years in between have made no difference," Michaela whispered, as their view encompassed a wide vista of rapidly darkening meadows, woods and mountains. "I remember we used to do this nearly every evening of our honeymoon .... it tends to put everything else into perspective doesn’t it?"

In response Sully kissed her lightly on her neck and then released her to reach up and slide out the hat-pin holding her modish blue hat in place. He tossed the hat onto the dresser and proceeded to locate and remove the many pins holding her heavy swath of coppery hair in place high on her crown. When the tresses at last tumbled down over her shoulders and back, he pulled his fingers gently through them and buried his face in the softness, before bunching them to one side so that he could kiss her cheek. Michaela arched her neck and leaned back into him before turning and reaching up to cup his face, drawing his lips down to hers for a long, passionate, reconciling kiss.

When the kiss finally ended, and their breathing had steadied a little, she pulled back from him to look up into his eyes, a wave of embarrassment suddenly crossing her features. "I’m sorry ...... I’ve been so awful to you the last few days Sully." She gently caressed his hands and then held them tightly in her own. "I’d truly forgotten what it was like in Boston, trying to fit into a male dominated profession," she said quietly. "I’ve become sort of comfortable in Colorado Springs. I guess I thought that my acceptance there was somehow going to translate to acceptance elsewhere. Our life at home has sort of cushioned us from what its really like outside. I came back to reality with a rush." She dropped her eyes and wrung her hands.

Sully reached out to raise her eyes to his. "No need to feel embarrassed Michaela. I’m guilty of doin’ exactly the same thing. I knew that it’d be just about all men at the Convention ..... but I thought they’d be different too. What you’ve achieved didn’t seem to matter to ‘em at all, just that you’re a woman." He smiled at her then. "A woman I love more ‘an anythin’."

She once again wrapped her arms around him and then whispered, "I love you too Byron Sully."

He hugged her tight and then said, "Well, we’re still in these dirty travellin’ clothes. How about a wash, then a change of clothes an’ a rest before we haveta go out agin?"

Michaela smiled suggestively up at him and then reached to slip his grey, tailored jacket off his shoulders. She tossed it aside before moving to undo the buttons on his vest and shirt. It was apparent that she had a little more in mind. He smiled at her enthusiasm and began to undo the last few buttons.

"No, let me .... please," she whispered.

He grinned delightedly, shrugged his shoulders and lowered his hands to place them lightly on her hips.

When his shirt was open to the waist and she’d pulled it free of his suit pants, she leant in to place a series of light kisses across his bare chest before sliding her hands around his waist and resting her head under his chin.

In turn, he began to undo the myriad of tiny pearl buttons down the back of her vivid blue gown. All the while he nuzzled her neck and shivered as her hands began to move more and more intimately on his chest and lower back.

For the next hour or so everything else was forgotten, everything except being together in *this* bed, in *this* haven, where they’d spent their first two weeks of married life, where living and breathing each other was what mattered most.

Michaela lay nestled in Sully’s arms, her head resting on his chest, her fingers absently tracing his ribcage. The candles still burned brightly and the heavy scent of the roses on the mantelpiece and beside the bed was overwhelming. It seemed to have permeated the crumpled bedclothes on which they lay, even their skin.

Into the sweetened silence Michaela suddenly said, "I wonder what time it is Sully. We’re supposed to attend that dinner at the Royal at nine."

"‘Bout seven-thirty I guess, so if we’re goin’ we’d better get movin’ soon," answered Sully.

Michaela sighed. "I almost wish we weren’t going Sully, but I don’t want them thinking that they’ve finally deterred me. We’re going to walk in there tonight our heads held high. Right?" She looked up at him to gauge his reaction.

He smiled proudly. "Right!" he said determinedly and sat up pulling her up with him. He lightly kissed her and then rolled out of bed and moved across to the still packed luggage to lay out his evening clothes. Michaela followed him with her eyes. She couldn’t help admiring his fluid movements and strong, tanned physique and yearned to invite him back to bed. She reluctantly but resolutely rose and joined him in preparing for tonight’s Convention dinner.

Sully was just beginning to extinguish the many candles in preparation for their departure for the Convention dinner when he heard Michaela’s footsteps behind him. He turned and gasped, his lips forming a silent whistle when he saw her. Almost in a deliberate act of defiance, she stood before him, a vision in scarlet. Sully’d noticed the gown hanging in the wardrobe in San Francisco and had wondered why she’d brought it. A dull medical convention didn’t seem quite right somehow and she of course hadn’t worn it - until now! The last time he’d seen her in it was at the Holman’s party in Boston and she’d danced the night away with another man, though that memory didn’t seem to worry him any more. She stood looking him directly in the eyes as if challenging him to disagree with her choice of attire. But he was never going to disagree when she looked this beautiful! She said quietly, "Well?"

He edged a little closer, noticing the intricate way she had arranged her hair and the pretty earrings which dangled daintily from her ears and caught the light. "Phew, you’re gonna turn some heads tonight," he said softly, his face beaming. "Though I’m not sure I want a lotta dull doctors oglin’ my beautiful wife." He reached out to finger a single red rosebud she had pinned into her elaborate hairstyle.

She smiled gratefully at him and then said ruefully, "I don’t know why I brought this dress with me from home. Maybe some sixth sense told me I might need it. But I’m tired of trying to blend in - without success. I seem to stand out no matter what I do. So tonight I thought I’d stand out in more ways than one." She twirled so that the skirt spun out around her like the petals of an exotic flower. "What do you think?"

"Well, I think you’re right, you sure are gonna stand out! I bet a lot of them fellas aint ever seen someone look the way you look tonight, especially not in Colorado," he stated proudly.

She blushed and then looked up into those vivid blue eyes she loved so much. "My confidence has taken a bit of a battering the last few days Sully. If you hadn’t stood beside me like you have I don’t know what I’d have done. I might not always show you, or tell you .... but I do love you for it," she said softly, standing up on her toes to kiss him tenderly. Then she straigthened her skirt, reached up to ensure her curls were in place and added, "Well, its probably time to go and face them again. Ready?"

"Uh huh," he said proudly, taking her arm and leading her out of their hotel suite.

Arriving at the Royal Hotel a little late, they were ushered up an ornately carved staircase to a private dining room on the second floor. Thirty pairs of eyes turned on them as they entered and silence descended on the gathering. The room was long and narrow, the lace covered and heavily laden dining table its overwhelming feature. Several banks of candles down the centre of the table illuminated the white china and silver cutlery and sparkled off the crystal glasses at each place setting. In the very centre of the table was a massive arrangement of white lilies and red carnations. Until their arrival the red carnations had been the only splash of colour in the room. All the doctors were wearing black evening dress and, although three or four of the them had brought their wives, each was dressed conservatively in grey, cream or pale blue. Michaela’s scarlet dress suddenly dominated the room. They were the last to arrive and as they were escorted to their seats at the far side of the room, Sully couldn’t help but think that Michaela stood out like a single, perfect, red rose on a large and unpleasantly thorny rosebush.

He was startled when her hand, which had been resting properly on his arm, suddenly tensed and tightened around his wrist - his thoughts had been wholly centred on the dramatic effect of their arrival. He looked quickly at Michaela, then followed her gaze across the table and his heart sank. What had they done to deserve this? The only two places left at the table were opposite Dr Cassidy and someone they both knew very well. Someone they would never have expected to see at a gathering such as this.

Dr Cassidy politely rose from his seat, as did his guest beside him. "Ah ... Dr Quinn, Mr Sully, good evening .... we were beginning to wonder whether you had decided not to join us," he said smoothly.

Knowing that he had probably not given them any thought at all until they entered the dining room, they both merely nodded.

Dr Cassidy continued, "I believe that you may well know my guest. I discovered that he was staying in Denver for a few days, conducting some business, and as this evening’s dinner was not to be a truly *formal* affair ...." The Denver doctor paused and looked pointedly at Michaela’s attire. "I invited him to join us. You do know Mr Lodge, owner of the Bank of Colorado, don’t you?"

Preston was standing erect, as proud as an overblown peacock, beside Dr Cassidy, his gloating smile alerting them to the fact that he was well aware of their discomfiture. "You’re looking charming this evening Michaela," he said slyly. "And Sully, I don’t believe I have ever seen you in evening dress before."

"Not too many occasions in Colorado Springs needin’ evenin’ dress Preston," replied Sully, irritably.

Grinning at Sully’s restrained reply, Preston reached across the expanse of the table to shake their hands. As usual, Sully ignored the offer, while Michaela put her hand lightly in the banker’s before pulling back to unconsciously wipe it on the full skirt of her dress.

As Sully pulled out her chair, draped her velvet evening cape over its high back and assisted her to be seated, muffled conversation once again arose around the table after the momentary diversion of their arrival. Dr Bernard, seated a little further up the table, nodded and smiled a reassuring greeting but many others refused to meet their eyes.

There was silence while a waiter unfolded their white, linen, table napkins and laid them across their laps. Deciding that she would have to make an effort to participate in the conversation in order to relieve the tension around them, Michaela asked sociably, "Dr Cassidy, how is it that you know Mr Lodge? I was unaware that he had any business associated with medicine."

Just as politely, Dr Cassidy replied. "Actually, Mr Lodge and I are partners in a number of business ventures, none of them associated with medicine. As a prominent property owner and developer in Denver, I have had cause to consult with Mr Lodge on a number of profitable business opportunities. In fact I believe that I am one of his most regular investors. I daresay that you have had cause to use his skills also?"

Preston’s smile was even wider now and if anything he sat more upright, more puffed up, obviously enjoying such praise of his business acumen. Meanwhile Sully sat tight-lipped beside Michaela, his hand clutching tightly the stem of an empty crystal goblet.

"Actually, Sully and I have not availed ourselves of Mr Lodge’s services to a great degree, in fact only when it has been imperative," replied Michaela quietly, refusing to look Preston in the eye. There was a brief pause while a waiter filled their crystal glasses with sparkling champagne.

"Ah yes ...." Preston unterjected. He addressed Dr Cassidy but his eyes were fixed on Sully. "In fact, the Sullys are somewhat self-sufficient, rarely allowing their *friends* to assist them," he smirked, attempting to gain Sully’s attention.

If anything, Sully became more grim and Michaela could feel the heat rising in her own face.

Preston went on sneeringly, "Though they are not averse to a friend helping out when Sully here has difficulty finding work, even if the motive of that friend may be questionable." Preston was in full flight now, milking the moment for all it was worth. As had happened more than once in the past, he was wondering how much provocation Sully would take before he retaliated.

Regardless of the people sitting nearby, Michaela grasped Sully’s hand tightly, silently pleading with him to stay calm. She was relieved when the arrival of the first course of their meal interrupted the conversation and everybody became occupied with eating the turtle soup. She also knew that this was just a temporary respite, as it was unlike Preston to let an opportunity pass. She peered surreptitiously across the table at him - she was reminded of a particularly unpleasant terrier that would return to its bone later.

As she had anticipated, as soon as the soup bowls and tureens had been removed from the table, Preston took up the conversation where he’d left off. He once more addressed Dr Cassidy, though ensuring that he spoke loudly enough to be heard several seats away. "Actually, the Sullys have little cause to use my services. Their ......ahhh ....... irregular income does not lend itself to investment opportunities."

He looked straight at Sully. "What is it you actually do Sully .....? I can never work that out." Once again he was smiling slyly, enjoying discomfiting his nemesis so easily.

Through gritted teeth, Sully replied grimly, "Seems we had this conversation once before Preston."

"Ah yes ...... but it seems I am none the wiser, and I do believe that when we last discussed this topic you had some sort of government job with the indians - a job that is no longer available to you," he sneered, puffing himself up again like the vain peacock he was.

Michaela perceived Sully tense even further and she once again placatingly grasped his hand under the table.

Trying to divert the conversation onto safer ground, she smiled her most radiant (though forced) smile at Dr Cassidy and said, "I’m sure that there are much more interesting topics we could be discussing rather than my family’s financial situation." She nodded at Dr Cassidy and the man sitting on his other side, "Dr Cassidy, Dr Peters, what did you think of Dr Hoffman’s discourse on heart disease?"

It was obvious that Dr Cassidy was torn. He had begun to admire this woman’s directness and poise, and of course, like any man, he was not immune to her beauty. On the other hand, a couple of encounters with her in the past still rankled, and like Preston he was not averse to seeing her rattled. He was saved from making a decision about the future direction of the conversation by the arrival of the entree and once again there was only muffled talk around the table while the diners enjoyed the thinly sliced roast beef and vegetables. The meal may have been prepared by a fine chef, but to Michaela and Sully it tasted like sawdust.

As the empty dinner plates were removed by diligent staff and the gentlemen leaned back in their seats, several lighting up pungent smelling cigars and filling the room with acrid smoke, Preston took one more shot at Sully. He turned to Dr Cassidy and during a lull in the general conversation stated, "The Sullys here count amongst their closest friends a Cheyenne indian." He turned to Sully. "How is Cloud Dancing? Still inciting trouble on the reservation?" he sniggered.

Before either Sully or Michaela could retort, Dr Cassidy spoke, "Ah yes, I’ve met the man. Seemed fairly civilised .................. for an indian!" He and Preston laughed loudly and derisively.

There was a shocked gasp and then Sully was startled when Michaela suddenly pushed back her chair and stood to face Preston and Dr Cassidy, her hands resting palm down on the lace tablecloth, the candlelight gleaming on her wedding and engagement rings. She took a deep breath, drew herself up to her full, though diminutive, height and angrily announced, "Mr Lodge, for the past several days I have been forced to withstand the taunts of a number of supposedly well-educated *gentlemen* whose egos far outweigh their combined intellect or compassion! With a few notable exceptions." She paused and her eyes flew around the table as if seeking one of those exceptions. As she met each pair of eyes, most in turn dropped to the lace-covered tabletop, so she went on. "These men have shown a remarkable propensity for making derogatory remarks about me, my choice of career, and the quality of my medical practice, remarks they have for some reason found amusing."

At this point Dr Cassidy began to rise and blustered, "Madam!"

Michaela immediately quelled him with a look and stated determinedly, "Dr Cassidy … I would like to continue." He slumped back in his chair, reluctant to cause even more of a scene.

She turned once more to Preston and, in a voice which carried the full length of the table, she declared, "And Mr Lodge, throughout those denigrating days I struggled to control my temper and my patience and thought I had succeeded. Though my husband, bless him, in his own unique way, did his best to protect my honour and my personal and professional pride." She turned to look at Sully. "For which I thank him." He looked up at her in surprise.

A hush had descended on the entire dining room and all eyes were now raised and watching her in shock and amazement (and some with a hint of admiration).

She turned back to Preston. "And now we return to Denver only to experience similar inane vitriol uttered by *you*, this time directed at my husband rather than myself."

By this time Preston’s eyes were popping and his mouth was opening and closing wordlessly, a little like a fish abruptly landed on a riverbank.

She continued, "Ever since your arrival in Colorado Springs you have done your utmost to humiliate Sully and in turn myself …. for what reason I am unclear. It is obvious that you resent his honesty and integrity which you, unfortunately, will never be able to match." He reddened noticeably. "I would therefore ask that in the future you maintain a distance between yourself and my family or suffer the consequences ….. and yes, Mr Lodge … I believe my husband would agree with me ..... that *is* a threat."

Preston’s face was a picture - his cheeks were red, his mouth was now clamped shut and his eyes alternately widened and then narrowed. He stuttered, "M-Michaela!"

He began to push back his chair and rise but Michaela startled him by continuing, "Oh ….. and while I have your attention Mr Lodge, I would like to explain something to you. There are only four people in this world who regularly call me Michaela, all of whom I know hold me in some esteem. They are my mother, my husband, Dorothy Jennings and I daresay you have noticed, Hank Lawson, who may have a rough exterior but who I know deep down respects me both as a woman and a doctor. Unlike him, you afford me little respect as either. I therefore request that in future, you address me as Dr Quinn."

Preston, now thoroughly humiliated, slumped back in his chair, defeated.

Michaela turned to Sully and quirked an eyebrow at him as she picked up her evening bag from beside her plate. Fighting to maintain his composure and a straight face, he rose, unhooked her evening cape from the back of her chair and draped it over her bare shoulders. She moved further back from the table, Sully by her side, again swept her eyes over the entire assembly and declared, "Gentlemen, I’m sure that you will all be delighted to know that I have decided to curtail my participation in this part of the Convention. My husband and I will be returning to Colorado Springs tomorrow to our loving family and my *thriving* medical practice. At a later date, I will be interested to read the dissertations I had hoped to hear. I will arrange for the Chapter secretary to send them to me. Good evening gentlemen."

With that she majestically sailed out of the silent, opulent dining room, a vision in red - the dramatic exit and the refracted light from the chandelier only accentuating her beauty and grace. Sully followed proudly close behind, his hand resting lightly in the small of her back.

The short walk back to their hotel was conducted in silence. Neither heard, or at least registered, the impatient snorting and stamping of the many horses harnessed to carriages waiting for their owners in the cool night air, or the light-hearted piano music drifting on the breeze from the music halls now in full swing, or even the friendly nod and greeting from a lawman doing his rounds, keeping the peace. The import of what she had done was just hitting Michaela and she was mortified. Sully, on the other hand didn’t know whether to be proud or resent the fact that she had spoken for him.

Back in their hotel suite Michaela walked silently and dejectedly across to the now cold fireplace. She reached up to finger the petals of a large, deep red rose which, with the encouragement of the earlier warmth in the room, had opened fully, and then she turned to face Sully, a look of shame and despair in her eyes.

Sully stood silently for a moment, observing her in her splendid red gown, echoing the bowl of roses behind her on the mantelpiece, her lips quivering, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Suddenly he was overcome with the absurdity of the situation. His brow creased, his eyes narrowed and he let out a loud and long guffaw, followed by another and yet another. His face became red with the laughter and he bent forward, holding his stomach, tears pouring down his cheeks. Michaela watched him in astonishment, *her* tears halted by this unexpected reaction and she exclaimed loudly, "Sully!!" And again, even louder, "Sully!!!" But Sully was beyond hearing her. She stood there indignantly, her hands on her hips, watching her husband lose his senses. She was dismayed - this was so unlike him. She tried again, "Sully, its NOT FUNNY," she spluttered. "Don’t you realise what just happened??

In the midst of his laughter Sully suddenly realised that Michaela was not joining in. In fact she was standing rigidly opposite him, her face flushed with anger and indignation. He tried desperately to pull himself together, but no matter how hard he tried small bubbles of laughter kept rising to the surface and escaping. He chuckled, "I’m sorry Michaela."

"Sorry!!" she exclaimed. "Sorry!! I’ve just made a fool of myself ...... us ...... and all you can do is laugh!"

"Like I said, I’m sorry Michaela, but I just can’t get the picture of Preston, standin’ there, his mouth openin’ an’ closin’, his eyes poppin ....out of my mind" He began to laugh again. "Whatever tricks Preston pulls in the future I’ll never be able to take him seriously ..... all I’ll see is the way he looked tonight ... his face red an’ him stutterin’, tryin’ to get a word in edgeways!"

Pictured like that Michaela could not help but smile - just a little. Her lips twitched and she let a nervous giggle escape. But then the seriousness of the incident overwhelmed her again. "But Sully, what will those people think? They’re my colleagues, they’re the ones I have to consult with, learn from, correspond with. They’ll never take me seriously now - I’ll be a laughing stock."

Sully sobered, noting the despair reflected in Michaela’s face. He walked slowly over to her and took her hands in his. "Wanna know what *I* reckon they’ll think after tonight?" he asked softly.

She nodded and her eyes dropped to the floor.

"Well, firstly they’re gonna envy me," he said definitely.

Her eyes flew up to his in utter surprise and her eyebrows rose in a query.

He went on. "They watched me walk in there tonight with a woman on my arm who took their breath away an’ put every other woman they ever knew in the shade. Then they watched as she tried to ignore the rudeness of a man most of ‘em had never met or even heard of. *Then* they watched as she stood and took that man on - defendin’ *me* - an’ I bet they wondered if the women in their lives would ever have the courage to do that for them. If they’re honest with ‘emselves, most of ‘em would probably haveta say no," he said proudly.

By this time tears had welled in Michaela’s eyes and her fingers were entwined tightly with his as she listened.

"But you know what else they’ll be envyin’?" he went on.

She shook her head and waited with bated breath for his reply.

"They’re envyin’ *us*. They’re thinkin’ - he stood up for her in San Francisco when most of them were too scared to do it. An’ now she’s stood up for him here in Denver when no-one else knew enough of what was happenin’ to *want* to do it." He pulled her into his arms and held her close and tight. "We’re a *team* Michaela ...... not too many married couples can say that .... but we can."

Michaela’s arms wound around Sully’s broad back and she hugged him tightly, her cheek resting against the front of his white dress shirt. She whispered, "Thank-you Sully. Maybe you’re right. I’d like to think so. But even if you’re not, I feel a lot better about it now."

Sully nodded sagely and then pulled back a little so that she looked up into his eyes. He smiled wryly at her and said with a little snigger, "You *do* realise what happened tonight don’t ya?"

She looked at him in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for the past three days you’ve been real angry with me cos I couldn’t stand ‘em bein’ rude to you anymore an’ did somethin’ about it .... don’ matter whether that somethin’ turned out like it shoulda done. Right?"

"Mmmm," she answered quietly and then light dawned. "And *I* did exactly the same thing tonight," she exclaimed in astonishment.

There was a long pause and then she said contritely, "I’m sorry Sully, I didn’t realise how hard it is to stay quiet when someone you love is being bullied. *I* couldn’t do it, so I can hardly expect you to." She dropped her head, but tightened her hold on him. "Am I forgiven?" she asked softly.

"Of course," he said, leaning down to kiss her lovingly. "We just gotta remember we’re a team. Guess most of them doctors’ll be wary of ever crossin’ the Sullys huh?"

She breathed a deep sigh and then laughed softly, even though her laughter was tinged with a little embarrassment. She gave him another quick hug, shook herself, banishing the memories of the past few days to the back of her mind, and then said, "Well, if we’re going to head home tomorrow we’d better think about getting ready for bed." And she moved out of Sully’s arms and into the bedroom where she began to rummage through the bags for their night things.

Sully followed her and then suddenly remembered. He walked around the bed until he located the neglected wrapped package that had been on show when they arrived. It had somehow ended up half way under the bed during their pre-dinner "holdin’". Neither of them at that time had been inclined to explore its contents, but now the time was right. He picked it up, placed it on the bed and, as Michaela bent over the now open bags, he leaned across to grab a handful of the fine red fabric in the back of her skirt. He gently pulled until she was forced to stand upright and move backwards towards him.

"Sully!" What are you doing?" she exclaimed as she lost her balance and fell against him.

"Ya maybe don’ need what you were lookin’ for," he said mysteriously and then gestured towards the package.

Her eyes flew to his and then back to the box. "What is it?" she asked excitedly.

"Don’ go gettin’ too excited," he smirked. "I didn’t go buyin’ anythin’. Had the kids send it up from home."

She looked at him in puzzlement. "Why didn’t you ask me to pack whatever it is rather than asking the kids to send it?" she asked.

"Open it an’ you’ll see," he explained patiently.

She began to eagerly tear away the paper and finally revealed a familiar box, one which had been stored in the cupboard under the stairs at the homestead for over four years. She carefully removed the lid and lifted out the beautiful cream and pink peignoir her mother had given her at her wedding shower. She reached out to finger it lightly and then held the delicate, expensive fabric up to her cheek.

"I aint never seen it on ya," Sully said quietly. "I wondered why."

She ran her fingertips over the rows of intricate lace and mused, "I don’t really know why Sully. It’s beautiful, maybe too beautiful. And I wasn’t sure that you’d like it, that maybe it would be too .... too ...... foreign somehow ..... not me."

Sully looked puzzled by her explanation at first, but then after thinking about it for a moment he had to acknowledge, "Yeah I know what you mean. About it bein’ too beautiful .... aint nothin’ too beautiful for you ...... but maybe I woulda found it too ..... too ...... not *me*." He reached out and placed his hand over hers on the beautiful fabric. "But will ya wear it for me *tonight*? After lookin’ at ya in that dress, lightin’ up that room, I reckon this’ll look just right ....... tonight."

She blushed, twisted her hand to grasp his momentarily and then turned her back to him so that he could undo the long row of tiny buttons at the back of the now notorious scarlet gown. When the dress was unfastened to the waist and in danger of sliding to the floor Michaela turned and murmured, "Why don’t you go in and rekindle the fire while I change ...... I’ll join you in a minute."

Sully smiled and whispered provocatively against her ear, "My fire’s already rekindled."

Michaela punched him playfully on the arm before grasping him by the shoulders to turn him towards the bedroom doorway and nudging him out the door. He chuckled and then moved across to the fireplace. He could wait.

The fire was once again burning merrily in the grate when she at last joined him. He was seated cross-legged in one of the two gold brocade armchairs, staring into the flames, his jacket, vest and tie discarded, when he became aware of a flickering shadow to the right and slightly behind him. He swiveled in the chair and his breath caught. The delicate cream, lacy fabric of the peignoir clung to her body and flowed softly to the floor, her bare feet peeking from just below the hem. The lace stood up around the v-shaped neckline, accentuating her long neck and hinting at the fullness of her breasts. She’d taken down her former elaborate hairstyle and brushed her coppery hair until it shone and fell in soft waves over her shoulders and down to her waist where it curled slightly. He couldn’t help but reach out to touch and then to pull her towards him until she tumbled into his lap.

"Mmmmm .... you were sure worth waitin’ for," he whispered as he nuzzled her neck. "I wonder if ya ma realised how beautiful you were gonna look in this ....... an’ what effect it was gonna have on me? Don’ really sound like ya ma .... I wonder what she was thinkin’?" he mused out loud.

Michaela giggled. "I wondered the same thing myself," she said softly. "I think I worked out why I’ve never worn it until now. It’s so beautiful and sophisticated ..... and back when she gave it to me I felt so ...... so ...... shy and unsure of myself that it just didn’t seem right somehow."

"And now?" prompted Sully quietly.

"And now I love to look good for you .... to make your blue eyes shine like tonight ..... to love you as much as you love me," she said surely, before claiming his mouth with her own.

The kiss was long and intense and their bodies seemed to melt into each other. As the kiss ended, Michaela leaned back to rest her head on Sully’s chest, her hand moving lovingly through his long, sun-bleached hair, then down his hard, muscular shoulder and arm to his thigh. In turn, Sully tenderly caressed her through the soft lacy fabric that seemed to intensify the heat of her skin. He sighed softly with contentment. They sat before the fire like that for a long time.

Suddenly, into the silence Sully chuckled once again. "I wonder what Preston’s doin’ right now," he grinned. "Or rather, how he’s feelin’."

Micheala’s face reddened and she lowered her eyes to the patterned carpet. "We shouldn’t laugh Sully," she said softly. "I don’t like embarrassing someone like that ..... but ....... but ..... he just made me so angry!"

"We better watch ourselves when we get back home. He’ll be the one who’s angry now," warned Sully.

Michaela couldn’t resist. "Like those two doctors in San Francisco?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.

Now it was Sully’s turn to blush. "It wasn’t supposed to turn out like that," he said, pleading for understanding. "I didn’t mean for anythin’ to happen an’ I wasn’t to know how clumsy them two doctors were."

Michaela grinned up at him with the memory and they both settled back into each other’s arms, their minds drifting back.

Sully threw them a last look of utter contempt and turned on his heel to wend his way through the tables and chairs back to Michaela. When he reached her he drew her to her feet and led her out of the near silent ballroom. Surprisingly, the last thing they heard as they walked out of the door was a burst of spontaneous laughter emanating from the region of the hapless duo.

"I didn’ touch ‘em Michaela," said Sully into the silence of the cosy hotel suite.

"I know you didn’t Sully," she replied. "I just wish that you’d let it be, especially with the newspaper people there writing about the Convention."

"I couldn’t when you were hurtin’ so much," he said, caressing her arm and shoulder. "An’ ya gotta admit, the sight o’ roly-poly Mills tryin’ ta hide behind that little weasel Pritchard almost made it worthwhile." He chuckled and then stopped suddenly. "Tell me somethin’," he asked earnestly. "It aint like you to keep quiet when someone’s troublin’ ya. Why did ya then?"

Michaela shrugged her shoulders and answered hesitantly, "I don’t really know Sully. I suppose that I’ve always had such difficulty being accepted into the medical fraternity that I thought it better to keep quiet …. to take the ridicule ….. rather than cause a scene and risk being ostracised permanently."

Sully dipped his head and whispered, "And then I caused the scene you’d tried so hard to avoid. I’m sorry."

"Well after tonight I’m not," she said proudly. "We’ll just go home and forget what happened here and in San Francisco. Those doctors who can’t accept me as a colleague just aren’t worth worrying about anymore." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and stood, drawing him up with her. "Its getting late, let’s go to bed and think about something much nicer." Sully was only too happy to oblige.

Michaela woke to bright sunlight streaming through the lace-curtained bay window of their hotel bedroom. She stretched luxuriously and turned to discover Sully watching her, his eyes alight. She gave him a half smile and murmured, "Morning" before a wide yawn escaped and she asked sleepily, "What time do you think it is Sully?"

He smirked and said, "Its late ….. *much* too late to go to the Chapter meetin’ in case you were thinkin’ of changin’ your mind and goin’."

She smiled up at him a little sheepishly. "The thought did cross my mind."

"Well that thought can just disappear. I’ve decided I’m keepin’ ya all to myself today," he said determinedly.

"Oh, you are, are you?" she muttered in mock indignation. "And what about going home?"

"Well …… the kids aint expectin’ us until tomorra," he said suggestively. "An’ I’m sure we can find ways to fill in the day. Maybe we’ll stay right here."

Michaela’s eyes widened. "Here …. in bed?! All day!!"

"Uh huh …. We aint never done that before ….. not even on our honeymoon."

Michaela blushed and she peered up to see his blue eyes shining with the thought, and his smile wide.

"I don’t know what I’d have thought if you’d suggested that back then ….. on our honeymoon I mean ....... but right now ….. I rather like the idea," she said, as she rolled towards him, laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arm around his waist. "I feel like a child deciding to stay home from school just because I want to," she giggled. "I often wondered why some of my school friends liked to play truant once in a while …… now I know …… though I doubt that they were doing this …" She raised herself up a little and claimed his lips with hers.

His arms came round to enfold her, their long, deep, leisurely kiss gradually growing in urgency and passion, their bodies responding to each other in that age old way, but it was all halted abruptly by a sudden, sharp knocking at the door of their suite. Sully was the first to acknowledge it and sat up, muttering under his breath. He began to wildly look around for his clothes which he spied hanging over the back of a chair near the dresser. He began to rise but Michaela was up before him. She pulled on the lacy peignoir and headed towards the door. "I’ll get it Sully," she said. Sully watched her, wondering whether that was such a good idea.

She opened the door to a uniformed bellboy holding a small silver tray with a telegram on it. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Michaela, a vision in cream and pink lace. "Telegram for the doctor," he said, holding out the tray to her. Oblivious to his look of admiration, she took the envelope and nodded her thanks. He turned on his heel and retraced his steps back down the carpeted hall - but not before taking another momentary glance at the beautiful woman still standing silently in the doorway, opening the envelope he’d given her.

She turned back towards the bedroom, a look of dread on her face. "Its from Miriam," she said quietly. "She said she’d let us know if there was anything in the San Francisco newspapers."

Sully groaned. "Don’ read it Michaela …… we said we were gonna forget about what happened in San Francisco. Please …."

It was too late. She was already scanning the lengthy contents.

Sully watched her face intently for signs of distress or anger. Instead, the longer she read, the more her face began to beam and she occasionally chuckled. When he could stand the uncertainty no longer he demanded, "Well, what does it say? What are ya smilin’ about?!"

"You’re not going to believe it Sully," she said with another chuckle. "Maybe I’ll keep you in suspense for a little longer."

"Oh no you don’t," said Sully, reaching out to grasp her with both hands and tumble her back onto the bed. "Now tell me what’s so funny."

"Well ............," she paused, drawing out the moment for as long as she could.

As Sully began to tickle her under the ribs, she squirmed and squealed, "Alright, alright, I’ll tell you!" She sat up against the headboard, a pillow at her back and began to paraphrase the contents of Miriam Tilson’s telegram. "Well, it seems that there was a whole page about the Convention in the San Francisco Chronicle. Most of it was about the number of doctors, where they came from, what they discussed etc."

"Yeah, well what’s so funny about that?" demanded Sully in puzzlement.

"Well, apparently in the bottom corner was a small article about your ...... ah ...... ‘attack’ on the two doctors," she smirked.

Sully groaned again, but then realised that Michaela was far from upset about it. "What did the article say Michaela?" he asked.

She replied with a wide smile, "It appears one of the journalists who was at the Convention had just completed his internship on one of the Washington newspapers ...... and he remembered a certain Mr Byron Sully who saved the President’s life a few years ago. So he actually turned the whole story around to make it sound like you were defending me like you defended President Grant. He made Dr Mills and Dr Pritchard out to be the aggressors – which I suppose they were. Miriam says that there were a number of people who were happy to tell the reporter about how badly I was treated during the four days. It was just a short satirical piece adding a little humour to the news from the Convention."

Sully couldn’t believe his ears. After all their worry!! He grabbed the long telegram from Michaela and read it quickly and when he’d finished he looked at her in delight. "Well, what do they say - all’s well that ends well - heh??"

Then they both began to laugh, hugging each other exuberantly in relief.

When they’d finally settled down, Sully murmured seductively, "Now where were we when we were interrupted?" He gently, but insistently, pulled her down to lay along his length and resumed the tender, sensual kissing and caressing.

And yet again, they were interrupted by sharp rapping at the door. Sully looked up in disbelief. "What the .........?" he muttered.

Michaela once again began to rise from the bed.

"Uh uh, not this time Michaela," said Sully with a smirk. "Didn’ ya see the way that young fella looked at ya before? I’ll go this time."

Michaela blushed and settled back down on the bed.

Sully hastily pulled on his black dress suit pants he’d worn at the dinner and was still struggling to do up the buttons as he unlocked and opened the door. He was confronted by the porter who had shown them to their room yesterday evening. He was carrying a bunch of magnificent scarlet blooms and two small white envelopes. "For Mrs Sully ....... ah ...... Dr Quinn," he said quietly, and handed the flowers and envelopes to Sully.

Sully took the flowers, looking at them in disbelief. Who’d be sending flowers to his wife? He turned back towards the bedroom and when Michaela saw the blooms she exclaimed, "Sully, they’re beautiful!"

"I’m sorry Michaela ... they aint from me ...... seems you got an admirer," he retorted a little wryly, as he handed them to her.

Michaela inhaled the rich scent of the ruby and cherry coloured blossoms and then opened the small white envelope accompanying them. A look of delight spread across her beautiful face. "They’re from Dr Bernard and Dr Peters," she said quietly and then out loud she read,

"Dear Dr Quinn, please accept the accompanying flowers as a token of our esteem and regret. We are eager to assure you that not all the doctors at the Convention, here or in San Francisco, are disposed to regard your ‘choice of career, and your medical practice in Colorado Springs’ unfavourably. Please accept our humble apologies for the behaviour of a number of our colleagues in this regard. We remain your humble servants, Dr Stephen Bernard and Dr Harold Peters."

Michaela gave a satisfied sigh and her eyes were filled with a new light as she tore open the second envelope. She scanned it and then smiled broadly. "This one is from Dr Morrison who has his practice in Peublo. He says that if its convenient, he’d like to stop in Colorado Springs on his way home and visit my clinic!"

Michaela looked over at Sully, her eyes shining. "Oh Sully," she said, "Maybe things are changing .... just a little. I can put up with the behaviour of men like Mills and Pritchard if I know that there are others out there who don’t think the same way, even if they’re in the minority."

Sully was smiling too and said sincerely, "Michaela, what you gotta remember through all this is that you’re a good doctor ..... probably a lot better than a lot of them doctors who look down their noses at ya ..... that’s the most important thing ...... aint it?"

Michaela’s eyes filled with grateful tears and she nodded silently. Sully reached across to pull her into his embrace and she nestled into his chest and arms. Then, in a low tone, she said, "We’ve learnt a lot about ourselves these past few days, haven’t we Sully? About ourselves as individuals ...... and as a couple."

"Uh huh," murmured Sully.

Michaela continued, "Like you said last night, we need to remember that together we make a formidable team, as long as we support each other ..... love each other. We’re partners ........ as much as my father and I ever were ...... but partners in life rather than medicine." She looked up into his blue eyes she loved so much and then kissed him tenderly.

He returned her kiss, a little more avidly, but made no moves to resume their earlier occupation. He reached across to the bowl of exquisite red roses on the nightstand and withdrew one from the charming arrangement. He handed it to her and said lovingly, "Well, it seems that we’re sure to be interrupted if we stay here. How about we wash up and dress and then go see if we can convince the dean at Colleen’s school to let her join us for lunch? We’ll still have the evenin’ and night together before we head home tomorra. Whatdya say?"

Michaela inhaled the scent of this special rose and looked up at him in delight. "Mmmm .... yes please .................to *both* suggestions," she said warmly.

With that the pair rose from the crumpled bed clothes and began to ready themselves to face the day and whatever more surprises it may offer them.

THE END