CHAPTER TWO

Reaching their destination thirty minutes later, Sully pulled the wagon to a stop, jumped down, and turned to reach up for his love. She scooted over, but paused for a moment, taking in the picturesque scene. It truly was a beautiful place, just as Sully had said. The waterfall was small, falling only about ten feet into a tiny pool nestled into the side of a hill. All around them, various species of trees formed somewhat of a private screen from the rest of the landscape.

"Oh Sully...it's beautiful. How did you find it?"

He grinned at her reaction. "I was out huntin' one day and came across it. Was a hot summer day and a dip in that pool in my birthday suit really felt good," he added, his eyes sparkling as he watched her face turn a bit pink at the thought.

"Indeed," she managed, switching her eyes to his and then reaching to rest her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her down. He set her lightly on the ground and they stared into one another's eyes for a moment.

"Perhaps we will come back here one day...after we're married," she murmured, casting him the look that was her unique mixture of innocence and sensuality.

His eyes reacted as they always did when she 'flirted' with him, his hands lingering on her tiny waist. Images of being alone, with his wife, all night at the waterfall instantly assailed his mind. Whoa boy...he cautioned himself as he pulled back on his mental reins, taking a step back and determinedly turning toward their transportation.

"Here," he murmured, handing her a thick patchwork quilt from the back of the wagon. He grasped the picnic basket and together they walked several yards to the spot where he had set up the campfire circle earlier that morning. Curious, Michaela watched as Sully set the basket down, reached to uncover the fire circle, and then hunkered down to light the pre-set fire. In moments it was blazing warmly.

Sully reached to grasp one edge of the quilt and together they spread it out, dropping down on it as he dragged the basket over and opened the lid.

Grinning happily, he looked up at her. "Grace told me she put in somethin' extra...she made us a whole apple pie. Your favorite."

"My goodness!" Michaela gasped as she peeked into the basket at the array of food packages. "How will we ever eat all of this?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, adding playfully, "Maybe she sent extra just in case we got stranded or somethin'..." It was hard for him not to grin at her shocked expression.

Noticing her glancing at the items that had been covered by the hide cloth – a coffee pot and his red and black poncho, he murmured, "Some stuff I thought we might need if it got colder."

She raised one eyebrow, impressed. "It seems you've thought of everything, Mr. Sully."

"I aim ta please," he flashed her his special smile as he hopped up and strolled the short distance to the waterfall to fill the pot. As he turned to walk back, he grinned widely at catching Michaela watching him. She quickly averted her eyes and continued removing items from the basket.

"Coffee does sound good, especially when we eat the pie."

"Mmm hmm," he returned as he set the pot onto boil and settled back down beside her.

"Grace provided quite a feast. Fried chicken, potato salad, pickles...a jar of her famous cider. I hoped you thanked her."

"I did. But you can thank her again when we get back," he winked, and then reached for her hand to stop her busyness.

At her questioning look, he murmured, "Before we eat...I thought we'd give each other our presents..."

Her eyes lit up at this – he hadn't forgotten!

"All right. I need to get my purse..." she began, moving to rise, but he reached out and stopped her. "I'll get it."

He rose and retrieved it from under the wagon's seat, handing it to her as he dropped back down beside her on the quilt.

"Thank you," she murmured, opening it and removing a small item, wrapped in paper. He watched, but made no move to produce a 'gift' for her.

She didn't notice, as she was intent on presenting him with her offering.

"I hope you like it...I made it myself."

He grinned and took the package, unwrapping it to find a beautiful Indian necklace adorned with black, yellow, red, and blue beads.

"Michaela...you made this?" he breathed as he drew it out of the wrapper and examined the perfect craftsmanship.

"Yes...well, with a little help from Cloud Dancing and Snowbird... It's a 'relationship' necklace," she grinned, watching his awestruck expression. "And I chose the colors carefully."

"The colors?" he looked up at her, a question in his eyes.

"Yes...Snowbird told me the deeper meanings of the colored beads that they use..."

"Hmm...she never told me...wonder why?" he mused with a slight shrug, shifting his gaze back to the necklace.

Reaching forward, Michaela allowed her fingers to touch the beads, pointing to each color as she explained, "I chose black for the base color – as black stands for 'hearing'...hearing one another's point of view." He smiled and nodded. "The next color is yellow...yellow stands for 'love'...overcoming challenges through unconditional love for one another. Then red, for 'faith' in one another, and finally blue, for 'intuition' and learning how to understand one another."

He smiled again, his eyes gleaming with joy as he leaned close and kissed her sweetly. "Thank you, Michaela. Put it on me?" he requested softly, and she grinned, slipping it over his head and under his hair, adjusting it with his other necklaces. For just a second, they both thought about how he had been void of one since he had given it to Catherine, but wisely both chose to let that fact pass by.

Sitting back, Michaela realized that Sully had made no move to produce a present for her. She glanced at him expectantly, remembering that night they sat before the fireplace and he had told her he wanted to exchange gifts.

He caught the look and smiled, rather shyly. Knowing what she was wondering, he reached inside his jacket pocket, hesitated, then reached into the other to pull out a folded piece of paper.

"I wanna give you your present. But first...I..uh...I wrote ya somethin'," he stumbled, placing the paper in her hands. "But I been wonderin' if I should even give it to ya...I tried ta write ya a Valentine poem."

Michaela's mouth dropped open in pleased surprise, and then with a grin, she opened the page and read aloud:

My Michaela

Roses are red, wild cornflowers are blue,

Honey tastes sweet, but not as sweet as you.

I love your lips, your eyes, your hair,

I love how you stand up for what's right and fair.

I ain't much with words, but one thing is true,

I'd go anywhere, do anything, work hard or play the fool - just for you.

I love you so much, Michaela Quinn - my heart just goes thud,

You've never left my mind since that day you fell in the mud.

On Valentine's Day, let's sneak away, and let it be just us two,

Cause I'll love you all my days, and I can't wait to say, "I do," with you.

All my Love,

Sully

Michaela lowered the paper, eyes brimming with tears. "Oh Sully," she whispered, touched beyond words...to think that he would do something like that – lay his deepest feelings at her feet.

He smirked and lowered his gaze with a small shrug. "I know it sounds dumb. I wish I could say what's in my heart, and make it sound jus' right, like that Shakespeare fella...or the way Walt W..." he stopped short, his lips forming a kiss against her fingers as she quickly placed them against his mouth to hush him.

"Don't," she whispered, softly shaking her head. "It's perfect, and I love it, every word, just the way you wrote it. Because," she added, guiding his head back when he tried to look away, "Because, it was written from your heart...the heart I fell in love with so long ago..."

She paused, allowing him to see the overwhelming emotion welling inside her. He smiled then and relaxed, pleased with her reception of his attempt at poetic romance.

"Yeah? Tell me...when did you fall for me?"

She smiled softly as he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his, then tilted his head back to stare down at her, his lips set in an indulgent smile.

"I...I was attracted to you right from the start...though I wasn't sure what to make of you," she admitted wryly.

"Oh?" he snorted softly. "Why's that?"

Grinning at the memory, she quipped, "The way you hurled your tomahawk to split that sign in the mercantile, startling me so, I nearly jumped out of my skin...then that look you gave me as we stood face to face...then the way you manhandled me when you helped me up on Bear's back..."

"Manhandled!" he blustered, lovingly protesting, "I made sure I did that gentle like..."

She went on as if he hadn't interrupted, "The way you just walked - leading the horse, but not saying one single word – all the way out to the homestead...the way you merely turned and gazed down at me as I lay in the dirt when I fell off Bear...the way you walked off and left me standing on the porch - without even telling me your name..."

"Alright..." he conceded with a small nod and an embarrassed grin, stopping her recital of his early attempts to keep her at arm's length. He'd constantly fought against the fact that she penetrated the armor he had built around his heart with the first words he heard her say – which happened to be in defense of not only Black Kettle, but Wolf, too.

"But you haven't answered my question," he persisted.

She smiled mischievously, adoring the way the light filtering through the trees made the blue of his eyes take on a mysterious hue. "I think I knew I was falling in love with you...the moment you placed that around my shoulders in the teepee the night Brian ran away," she admitted, indicating the red and black poncho near the fire. "When...when your fingers touched me, even through the material... it was as if I felt sparks. Sparks that rushed straight through every fiber of my being...and settled in my heart – where they continued to sizzle," she concluded, her voice dropping to a mere whisper.

"Sizzle, huh?" he murmured, mesmerized with what the mottled light was doing to her earth-toned eyes. He smiled softly, silently acknowledging that he, too, had felt those sparks, and adoring the eloquent way she had worded the phenomenon.

"Mmm hmm," she nodded, his nearness, as always, rendering her slightly lightheaded, to the point she could not help but speak her heart. "The sparks between us have never stopped sizzling...the only variation is the intensity of the spark...depending on how close you are to me...or how far away," she murmured shyly.

He slowly leaned in, his eyes never releasing their hold on hers, until his lips were but a mere breath from hers.

"They sizzlin' now?" he asked, his voice so low she felt it reverberating deep within her belly.

She pressed her lips together, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first puppy love. "Indeed. I'm surprised you can't hear the cacophony they are making."

He snickered softly, thoroughly enjoying their game. "I wondered what all that racket was..."

"Just my heart...singing of its love for you."

He smiled, his dimples deepening as a memory surfaced.

"What?" she asked softly, unable to resist lifting a hand and allowing her fingers to caress one indentation, nearly hidden within the scruff on his cheeks and jaw.

"That reminded me 'a somethin'..."

She raised an eyebrow, unwilling to allow him to keep secrets when she had just bared her soul to him.

His eyes wandered over her face, the wisps of her hair, her long eyelashes sparkling in the muted light...but then in his mind's eye...for a moment he saw scratches on her cheeks...fear and exhaustion in her eyes...and he experienced again the absolute terror he had felt when he believed he had lost her.

She saw the oh-so subtle change in his expression – only recognizable because she was so in tune with his emotions. "Sully?" she whisperingly questioned.

He swallowed, pushing the disturbing images toward the farthest corner of his mind. The momentary vision of her scraped face vanished, and her perfect, unblemished face returned into his focus. He knew, however, she wouldn't let up until he confessed...

He leaned back a bit, reaching for her hand and bringing it up to his lips for a reverent kiss, not realizing he was replicating what he had done the morning after her rescue. It was an action born from the deepest recesses of his heart...total relief and sincere thankfulness.

His eyes shut, he quietly began, "When...when the dog soldiers had ya, I kept searchin' for ya...but I lost the trail. Then when I found the camp they had you in the night before, you were gone and I couldn't find any tracks at all." She listened quietly, watching in wonder the various emotions come and go across his handsome face as the story unfolded. This was something he had never shared before. She had often wondered, but had never had the opportunity or the courage to ask. "There was a couple dozen Cheyenne there, all of 'em too scared 'a the dog soldiers to help me," he continued softly. "So scared, they were sittin' froze, like statues. One Eye prob'ly threatened a fate worse than death if they told." He paused, remembering the frustration of those moments. "I begged 'em, over and over, to tell me if you'd been there and if you were alright. Then finally...I told 'em what ya meant to me..."

His eyes opened and searched hers, shifting back and forth between them as he whispered, "That you're my hëna xené...my heart-song." Her breath caught at his admission as he held her gaze. 'Heart-song'...the word reverberated within her, filling her with warmth and wonder. "One old woman, I think she'd felt sorry for ya...she motioned me over and pointed the direction they'd taken ya. Then before I could bolt, she pressed Walks on Clouds' necklace in my hands, and the look in her eyes told me to be careful – there wasn't nothin' One Eye wouldn't do to get what he wanted...and he wanted you."

Michaela swallowed softly, knowing the old woman had been right. The Indian called One Eye had been feared by all, and Michaela knew she was only alive – and unscathed – because of the fearless pursuit of the incredible man before her. Indeed...Walks on Clouds had given his life to save her – but she had recklessly gotten herself recaptured, wasting his sacrifice. That was a memory that still filled her heart with bitter remorse.

Sully went on, his eyes narrowing against the memories. "I took off runnin' after ya, so scared I'd come too late...and when I had to hide and watch 'em draggin' ya, barefoot across the rocks...it took everythin' in me not ta come screamin' up over the hill to rescue ya. But I knew they'd just shoot me dead and then you'd be left with no one to help ya. I couldn't leave ya all alone...so I followed...and waited for my chance..."

"And when night came...you called to me with your dove song..." she supplied, remembering how she had lost all hope of being rescued, wishing fervently that she could see Sully again...wishing they hadn't wasted so much time being apart after the misunderstanding about Catherine...thinking of all the things she wanted to say to him, do with him...longing for him...and then wondering if the dove call was just a figment of her desires and imagination. She remembered looking over in the direction of the sound as her eyes desperately searched, but couldn't see even a glimpse of him in the thick darkness. But somehow...she could feel his presence and knew he was trying to tell her to think of a way to put some distance between her and the braves around the fire.

"Yeah," he murmured in answer to her statement. "I was so glad ya understood what to do."

She nodded, remembering how she had racked her brain for an idea, then suddenly recalling a word Snowbird had recently taught her. So she had delicately informed her captors that she needed to relieve herself – to "Óhnee mâéhl." She hadn't counted, though, on One Eye being the one to escort her down to the river. A moment of panic set in as she desperately hoped she'd been right and that Sully was near. If he had not been...her request would have given the leader of the dog soldiers the perfect opportunity to force himself upon his determinedly unwilling captive.

Then, her rescuer had come flying out of the darkness. The ensuing fight between Sully and the fierce Indian could have gone either way, and she'd been so very thankful that Sully had prevailed.

"We make a good team, you and me," Sully continued, musing, "Like when we searched for Brian together...and Colleen when she got trapped in that mine shaft...comin' up with a plan of freein' Cloud Dancin' from Custer's grip...findin' the source of the mercury in the water...rescuin' Matthew in the mine..." he recalled with twinkling eyes.

"And when we managed to free you from prison," she offered. "And found the paper with your orders signed by that corrupt major...and when we completed our flip together on the trapeze...and when we worked together against the buffalo soldiers and convinced Sergeant Carver to change his mind about the Indians...or the time we managed to elude the dog soldiers and help rescue Kid Cole and sister Ruth..."

"Yeah...it's like nothin' I've ever experienced before...the way we sometimes just know what each other is thinkin'..." he murmured, one hand gently caressing her soft cheek.

She nuzzled his warm palm, totally content, a bit like a cat. "Yes, I've marveled about that myself...and I wonder what being married will do to enhance our connection..." she mused, then immediately blushed when she realized what she had said.

Sully chuckled, gamely resisting the urge to tease her about their future 'connections'.

With a grin, he reached for a cloth napkin and a chicken leg. "I think we better start eatin'. The day's gettin' away."

"Indeed," she agreed as she spooned out a helping of potato salad onto a tin plate. "Care for one of these?" she asked, offering him a pickle. He glanced at the item she held in her fingers, then into her eyes, and managed to swallow a risqué comment before it could pass his lips. She must have seen it in his eyes, however, and looked away, blushing.

For the next ten minutes, they sat together enjoying Grace's delicious fare in complete happiness at just being together, miles from any chance at interruption.

"I wish I could cook like Grace," Michaela murmured, savoring a bite of perfectly cooked chicken.

Sully swallowed a healthy bite of potato salad and shrugged. "Don't matter. You do lots of things good," he mumbled. "You're a great doctor...the best Ma the kids could have 'sides Charlotte...you're a good friend...and a carin' daughter and sister. 'Sides," he added with a shrug, "Cookin' is somethin' that can be learned, just takes time and practice."

She snickered softly, swallowing a bite. "I've been practicing, but it has helped very little."

"Well, it's a good thing we got Grace's then, huh?" he teased as he lay aside a piece of chicken and licked his fingers, emitting his special giggle when she gave him a tiny playful shove.

Suddenly, they both began to feel the first drops of a renewal of the rain softly landing on their faces.

"Oh no..." Michaela murmured, her eyes locking with that of her fiancé.

"It'll stop," he assured her, though one glance upward belied any confidence in that statement. While they had been talking and eating, a solid bank of clouds had quickly and silently moved in overhead, unnoticed, and was even then threatening to let loose a torrent of rain.

"Oh...our picnic!" Michaela moaned, staring regretfully at the blanket as visions of the ruined food at the town's Thanksgiving dinner came to mind.

Thinking quickly, Sully glanced around for options. One would be to hunker down under the wagon and hope for the best...another would be to load up and try to outrun the downpour...but neither of those appealed to him. There was no time to construct a lean-to without allowing the food to get wet...

Then his eyes landed on a rather large evergreen tree with tightly fitting branches. It was at least forty feet tall, and perhaps twenty feet wide at the base; the lowest branches touched the ground, forming a dark green 'skirt'. He had an idea.

"Get everything together," he instructed even as he quickly rose, grabbed his gloves from his jacket in the back of the wagon, and headed toward the tree, tomahawk already out of its holder.

"What are you doing?" she squealed as more raindrops fell.

"Just...trust me," he called over his shoulder as he reached the tree and began chopping out selected branches from its interior, wedging them horizontally at his eye level to deflect water.

With a frustrated huff, Michaela pulled her winter shawl up over her head and began gathering the food and shielding it from the weather.

A minute later, Sully glanced over his shoulder, "Chaela," he motioned with his head, "Bring it under here."

"Where?" she called back, but as he moved a bit, she could see that he was carving out a space near the trunk of the tree.

Bringing the basket and blanket over, she ducked inside as he ran back and gathered up the remaining items, raindrops falling faster by the minute. Dashing back, he slipped inside the enclosure as Michaela, on her knees, worked to spread out their quilt on what amounted to a bed of dried pine needles.

"We'll be snug as a bug in a rug," Sully joked as he propped several of the cut branches in the opening to keep out any stray gusts. Then he threaded his leather jacket into the branches four feet above their heads, where they would be sitting, to catch any stray drops that might work their way inside.

Just then, the rain began to come down in earnest outside of their protected sanctuary. But inside of their impromptu hideaway, using nature's own canopy, they were indeed, snug and dry.

Sully knelt down and took hold of one end of the quilt, both of them softly chuckling when it seemed to fight against spreading out smoothly.

"Now how 'bout a piece 'a that pie...I'd hate for any of Grace's good cookin' ta go to waste," Sully murmured as he settled down on the blanket, his back against the trunk of the tree.

"An excellent idea," Michaela murmured, and cut two slices of the delectable dessert, placed them in the tin plates, and handed him one. Sully had rescued the coffee pot from the fire, and she poured two cups of the steaming brew. She was glad of the extra warmth, as the temperature had begun to drop with the onset of rain.

She settled down near him in the shadowy, fragrant interior, and breathed in the pleasant aroma of pine and the fragrant scent of sap from the severed branches. Hearing the sound of the rain outside, she glanced upward, amazed that not even one drop of water seemed to be filtering down to them. Snug, indeed. She turned her head and gazed at her companion, a sweet, proud smile gracing her face. She always felt so safe and cared for when she was with him.

Glancing up from taking a large bite of pie, he caught her gaze. He quickly chewed and swallowed, and his tongue slipped out to lick apple residue from the corner of his mouth.

"What?" he murmured as he reached for his coffee, though finding her just gazing at him, captivated, her eyes warm and loving - in much the same way that he often stared, enraptured, at her - always warmed him from head to foot.

She shook her head gently. "Oh, nothing...I was just thinking about...what a good husband and provider you'll be," she admitted with a loving smile. With a hand, she gestured to their enclosure, "How quickly you fashioned this quite adequate shelter for the two of us...much like you did that rainy night after I broke my wrist." His answering grin sent tingles clear to her fingertips.

He dipped his head a bit. "Thank you."

She took a sip of her coffee as a thought occurred, and she frowned a bit. "The rain... I hope it stops in time for us to be able to prepare for the play...Dorothy has put in so much work – everyone has..."

"Includin' you," he murmured thoughtfully as he forked another bite of pie. He watched as she sipped her coffee, then carefully placed her cup out of harm's way and settled more comfortably on the quilt, demurely arranging her skirt around her legs and reaching for her plate. "Ya know...you amaze me with all of the things you're good at...even actin' in and directin' a play..."

"Me?" Michaela laughed, taking a delicate bite of pie. "What about you? The only thing I've ever been good at is being a doctor. Look at all of the things at which you excel – and you learn so quickly. You're so confident in everything you do..."

He swallowed the bite of pie, snickering, "Confident? Aw Michaela, if you only knew."

With an intrigued grin, she settled even closer, her eyes trained on his expression. "Knew what?"

He glanced at her as he wiped pie crumbs from his mouth, wondering if he should admit out loud his failings and uncertainties. The last thing he wanted was to cause her to think less of him. He'd grown accustomed to being her 'hero'.

However, helpless against the pleading look in her eyes and unable to deny her anything, he answered, "I wasn't so confident in learnin' how to dance, remember? Or how to act around all those Boston types at your Ma's birthday party."

"But, you did it, that's the point. You put your fears or shyness aside and... as you eloquently put it, learned to 'Do as the Romans do'," she softly chuckled, remembering that moment in her mother's dining room. "And it wasn't long before your confidence grew – why, in Washington, you danced with senators' wives at the White House!" She paused as he pressed his lips together and shrugged bashfully, though inwardly glowing at her praise. "And by the way, in my opinion you comported yourself quite nicely in every situation in Boston." Meeting his eyes seriously, she added, "I've never, ever, been ashamed to be escorted by you. I hope you know that."

"Yeah right, what about..." he started to argue, but she interrupted, "When you forced your way into the dining room of Mother's house?" she shook her head. "Only for a moment...but that was because I was so surprised to see you there. I had no idea you were even on your way to Boston. But if you recall, once I got over the shock, I defended you," she added, blessing him with her special half grin.

"Yeah, ya did..." he replied softly, remembering the warmth her words had made him feel. They had helped to counter the rather chilly reception from the others of her family. "But...ya acted so funny up there in my room later...when I tried ta tell ya why I came, what I was feelin'," he murmured.

She felt her pulse speed up a bit as she remembered those moments in his room, and the totally unexpected intensifying of the attraction between them. Being away from Colorado Springs...and him...for so long, she had almost forgotten his effect on her.

"Don't you know why?" she whispered. "The way you were gazing at me...being alone with you...the attraction I felt for you hit me again, so strongly..." she paused and gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. "It frightened me..."

His heart rate sped up at her revelation, and his eyes in the shadowy interior suddenly began to take on a warm hue as he stared into hers.

"I...I'd come all the way to Boston to finally tell ya what I felt about ya..." he murmured. "How you kept me tied up in knots...how I'd realized I...couldn't live without ya..."

She drew in a breath and held it, nearly spellbound at his divulgence. His disclosure, and his close proximity, caused her pulse to begin to beat erratically. She could almost hear his thoughts...

The intimacy of the moment was not lost on either of them, as each one contemplated the fact that it was only a scant three months before they would wed. Become Man and wife. Both pictured the subsequent events following that momentous occasion... and each knew they were now on shaky ground.

Sully put aside his plate with the remainder of his piece of pie, and reached out, gently relieving Michaela of her own plate.

She swallowed, becoming increasingly unsure. They had never been alone – like this – since they had declared their love, and more importantly, become engaged. She wondered what he would do...what he expected...how she should react...

Finishing his task, his eyes returned to hers and he reached out one hand to gently caress her cheek. She knew if it weren't for the sound of the rain outside their impromptu shelter, he would probably be able to hear her heart pounding. She didn't realize – his was pounding just as forcefully.

Inexorably drawn to one another, they leaned close, allowing their eyes to softly close as their lips gently met. The effect was instant and total intoxication, as if they had never kissed before. Each gloried in the delicious taste of coffee and apple pie filling, and the heady scent of one another amongst the other fragrant aromas infusing the air.

"I love you so much," he whispered, his lips suddenly opening to surround hers and swallow her response. With a shuddering sigh, she surrendered to him, allowing him to have his way. He quickly and easily maneuvered her over onto his lap, settling her into the curve of his embrace as he deepened the kiss even more. Never had they shared such intimate 'sparking' – not even in the sweat lodge when he proposed. For this time, he allowed his desires to take over, his hands caressing her cheek and neck, and roaming further down her anatomy as she curled on his lap. Her hands wound themselves in his hair and caressed his cheeks, glorying in the rough feel of his whiskers, and the invigorating sensation of his tongue dancing with hers.

Michaela was in uncharted territory, completely relying on his expertise. She was drowning in sensations, and for once, her inhibitions seemed to fall flat like a house of cards. Oh how she wished they were already married!

Sully was totally caught up in the feelings she engendered within him, all of his carefully wrought restraint having deserted him just when he needed it most. He'd never experienced this passionate side of his beloved before – not even that exhilarating moment when they had kissed in the sweat lodge. As ardent as that had been, when he had tried to lay her back, she had balked and immediately stopped him. Then she had insisted that since his megrim was gone, they needed to pack up and get back, that the children would be worried. Since then, he had not had the opportunity to 'try'.

Now, she was totally surrendering and he was helpless to invoke caution. Her mouth tasted like pure ambrosia, her scent drew him like a male mountain lion to his mate. Every instinct urged him to pursue – and pounce.

With a growl, he kissed her harder, and she returned the force, her own answering groan just as passionate. Breathless, all sense of right and wrong seemed to disappear. They had both reached that illusive point of 'no return' when desire totally usurped propriety.

Sully shifted and allowed them to fall sideways, barely catching Michaela's head as she landed on her back on the quilt. Mindlessly, he moved to cover her body with his, pushing intimately into her softness, feeling the beguiling headiness of her breasts pressed against him. She reveled in the sensuous weight of his body bearing down upon her; her mind, heart, and consciousness filled with the essence of him as they kissed with full abandon.

He broke the kiss and buried his head against her neck, his lips remaining open in sheer need, as he tasted the smooth skin there. Slowly, sensually, he worked his way down into the V of her dress. She gasped as his chin's stubble scratched highly sensitized skin, sensations rocketing throughout her body like fireworks. Her hands buried themselves in the soft waves of his hair. From somewhere far, far away, sanity whispered...

"Sully," she gulped, totally overcome.

He moaned in desperation. "God, I want you!" he gasped as his hands roamed daringly down her body and gripped her hips.

Each one expected the other to stop the progression. Time seemed suspended...

Then suddenly, Providence mercifully intervened - in the form of a drop of cold water.

A raindrop had found its way down through all of the branches, choosing that moment to land in the center of Michaela's forehead. She gasped at the sheer unexpected shock of the ice cold water. A second later, a drop landed on the back of Sully's neck, uncovered by Michaela's grasping hands as she had swept his hair aside. The effect was the same for him.

Blinking and breathless, he pulled back and tilted his head up to see her face. Her lips were kiss swollen, her eyes glazed with passion, but round with surprise, realization, and...shame.

My God...what are we doing?

The pendulum of Michaela's emotions seesawed wildly, from desperate desire to crushing remorse. What had possessed her...where had her morals fled to just when she needed them most?

With a stab of guilt, Sully realized he had come dangerously close to...but surely she would have stopped him...surely he would have come to his senses... Truly, that had not been in his plans – he had not brought her out into the woods with a plan to seduce her...to get her to relax her standards. It's just that she's so dang...desirable...

He immediately pressed his hands on the ground on either side of her and pushed up, rising to his knees...between her legs. Mercifully, they were still covered by the voluminous folds of her dress. He scrambled to the side, reaching for her hands to help her sit up.

"Michaela, I..." "Oh Sully..." They each began, only to drop their heads in embarrassment. Both were wondering what the other must be thinking of them...

"I...I'm sorry...I let things go too far..." Sully began, raking a hand back through his tousled hair.

Michaela shook her head, retaining her hold on his other hand. "No...you're not to blame...I didn't even try to stop...you...us..." she paused, words escaping her.

Gazing into her eyes, Sully could see uncertainty, and he softly reassured her, "Ya would have..."

Suddenly awkward with one another, they both began to chuckle and shake their heads in amazement as their emotions cycled around. "Thank God for that drop of rain!" Sully murmured, his expression sheepish.

"You felt one, too?" Michaela queried, eyes wide. Someone was watching out for them...

"Yep. And you know what I'm thinkin'?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "I think we better be extra careful and not be alone together between now and the weddin'. Specially out at the new house...we might end up on the floor..." he quipped, unknowingly prophetic.

"You don't think we've learned our lesson?" Michaela cocked an eyebrow at him.

Sully grinned at her unconsciously flirtatious expression, rolling his eyes helplessly. "I think I've learned I ain't got much control left," he admitted with a laugh. Then realizing it had stopped raining, he added, "C'mon, let's get packed up and get back ta town. You got a play to direct."

With another chuckle, they set about gathering their things and loading the wagon. Sully folded the quilt and placed it on the wet seat, and they spent the ride huddled against one another under his red and black poncho...talking about many things...and nothing...each one knowing they would treasure their picnic as another of their 'adventures in the woods'.

EPILOGUE

Once they finally made it back after their excursion, the two took the time to explain their uncharacteristic actions to Brian. They were relieved that the boy quickly forgave them of their duplicity, as he was merely happy that they had, indeed, spent the day together as originally planned. Then, Michaela rushed to change into her dark, heavy medieval costume.

Later that evening, after Jake disappeared behind the curtain following his opening monologue, Michaela wandered out to watch the progress of the play. Smiling, she thought about the moment when Dorothy had come to her, interrupting the craziness of last minute preparations, and let her know she wanted to resume her duties. With everything else that had happened that busy day, Michaela was quite thankful that she had been relieved of the duty to direct.

Gazing at the beautiful red brocade curtains – Loren's surprise for Dorothy, Michaela smiled softly. That was some surprise! I wonder where he found them...and it wouldn't surprise me to know he got them at a bargain price...knowing Loren, she chuckled silently, knowing the shopkeeper's penny-pinching ways.

Listening to the opening lines of the play, she hoped everyone's nerves would calm, that all would go well, and that Hank wouldn't attempt to rewrite Shakespeare – and she was very glad no more cases of laryngitis had developed.

Deep in thought, she didn't realize that not far away, her favorite pair of blue eyes watched her lovingly...

Since the moment they had returned from their picnic, he had been chiding himself for letting one very important thing slip his mind, and he had tried several times to get her alone again long enough to complete a very important task...but no luck. However...he was determined that the day would not end without the fulfillment of his original intentions.

Having taken a seat at the far left back corner to watch the play...well, more precisely, to watch the woman he loved with every cell in his body, he had literally gasped when he saw her step out from behind the curtain and stroll along beside the audience. He hadn't even hoped to get a glimpse of her, except onstage, until the play was over.

His eyes narrowed as he strove to remember how soon her first scene would come up. Dang it! Shoulda paid more attention! He berated himself. Leaning forward on his chair, he put his hand against one pocket of his jacket, debating...should I do this now? Or should I take a chance and wait...what if somethin' happens and I don't get another chance?

Then before he could talk himself out of it, he reached inside the pocket and removed a very precious item - and was up and walking. Stalking. Staring at her, willing her not to move, hoping she wouldn't flit away at the last second before he could reach her.

Closer...closer...almost...

Suddenly, Michaela felt a hand on her shoulder and turned.

"Sully!" she gasped delightedly.

Her fiancé, his expression playful, said not a word, but grasped her left hand and slid an engagement ring onto her finger. It was his real present for Valentine's Day, only they had gotten too caught up and he'd completely forgotten to give it to her on the picnic.

His words, "Bought it a few months back...been waitin' for Valentine's Day to give it to ya...make it special," warmed Michaela's heart more than he even realized.

Jubilant, she grasped his head in her hands and kissed him, then went happily into his arms for a warm hug. Turning her head, she whispered into his ear, "Our Valentine's Day has been special, Sully...more so than I even imagined it would be." Hugging him tighter, she kissed his cheek as he closed his arms around her tighter, his eyes shut. "The day, the picnic, the poem you wrote me...and everything...will remain a precious memory." Pulling back, she cradled her left hand with her right, adding with a sparkling smile, "And now with my beautiful engagement ring...I couldn't ask for a more perfect day."

Smiling lovingly, his hand rose to gently grasp his necklace. It meant the world to him that she had put so much time and thought into its creation. "Me neither," he whispered.

They stood together, only half listening to their fellow townspeople up on the stage, glorying in the sheer euphoria of being so much in love. Perhaps it was amplified by the holiday? Or maybe by the performance of the romantic, 'Romeo and Juliet'... Or the magical chemistry of their connection... In truth, probably a mixture of all three...

Finally her cue approached and she had to tear herself away from him to take her place in the performance. At times barely able to remember her lines, as she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move - she found herself putting her all into her part, striving to make Sully proud. And when the curtain was drawn at the end and she stood taking bows with the others, reveling in the applause, she could hear his voice above the rest as he yelled and clapped, and whistled his appreciation.

Much like the standing ovation she had received for her lecture in Boston, his approval meant more to her than all the rest. His admiration, alone, made all of the hard work worthwhile.

Then as planned, after the play, they finished their Valentine's Day with a romantic dinner – albeit by candlelight at her desk in the clinic, and a moonlit walk, strolling together around the meadow.

OOOOO

Love...is an engagement ring, saved up to be given on a day that's special...a day spent alone with the one who is your soul mate, your heart song, your best friend, your future spouse.

A special day, indeed.