When Paths Cross Michaela pulled her galloping horse up to an abrupt halt, sending it into prancing circles as she looked back for Sully who was following just a little more sedately behind. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and her long coppery hair swirled around her shoulders and down her back and whipped with the breeze across her face. She laughed exuberantly and called to her husband, "Come on slowcoach!" as Flash once again wheeled to the right, kicking up thick dust from the dry trail. A chortling Sully reined in his horse beside her, sidestepping as the high-spirited horse and rider threatened to dislodge him from his own mount. He brushed his sun-bleached locks back from his sweaty face, his heart leaping as he acknowledged that he'd rarely seen Michaela look as relaxed and happy. After the traumas of the last year he'd feared never seeing her like this again. Clutching at her wide-brimmed leather hat as it threatened to fall back off her head, she grinned at him cheekily through her wispy bangs. She leant forward to reward Flash with an enthusiastic pat, running her hands through the mare's long, shaggy mane. This time Sully was the one to suddenly wheel his horse around, catching Michaela unawares. He reached across to grasp her by the waist and recklessly hauled her out of her saddle to sit straddling his legs, sharing his mount. "Gotcha," he chuckled proudly. "Sully!" she exclaimed, attempting to sound offended, but not really succeeding. "What are you doing! .... What if Flash runs away!" In reply, Sully merely clutched her more securely to himself and, as he lightly kissed her neck, muttered, "Ya know she won't do that." Michaela could but giggle, knowing that he was right, and enjoying his gentle and somewhat arousing attention. He rather precariously lowered her to the ground and she clung to his heavily muscled forearm to ensure that she didn't fall. "How 'bout we rest here for a little while, before headin' home?" he suggested hopefully, leaping from his horse to stand close beside her. "Mmmm, I don't really want these three days to end," she remarked dreamily, as she glanced around at their woody and isolated surroundings. She removed her hat, hung it on her saddle horn, tossed her long, silky hair back over her shoulders and wandered across to squat beside a swiftly running stream. While Sully loosely tethered the horses nearby, she undid the buttons at the cuffs of her light cotton blouse and rolled the sleeves up to her elbows before cupping her hands in the freezing water and bringing them up to her lips to drink and to wash the dry dust from her hot skin. She was startled when Sully suddenly brushed passed her, wading into the water up to his knees. "Sully, it might be early summer but the water's still freezing! Its coming straight off the mountains!" she exclaimed. "You'll catch a chill." In reply Sully merely laughed and advanced threateningly towards her. "It aint so bad," he said mildly. "Fact is its kinda refreshin'." He made another forward move and she began to hurriedly back away from him, worried that she was in for a dunking. Instead, he suddenly bent double to dip his head and swish it from side to side in the clear icy water. Michaela laughed out loud as he straightened up, tossing his head back, his long hair spraying a sparkling arc of water high into the air before it came to rest lankly and wetly on his shoulders. Feigning insult at her laughter he moved slowly towards her, grasped her by the arms and then shook his head vigorously, spraying water all over her. She exclaimed between bubbles of laughter, "Sully!! I'm getting all wet!" "I'll show ya wet!" he warned with a grin, as he scooped her up into his arms and turned once more towards the water. She clung to him, all the while squealing his name, her heart beating at twice its normal pace, anticipating the shock of freezing water. Then suddenly a wide, knowing grin spread across her face and she tightened her hold, pulling herself up as close as possible to him - if she was going to be soaked then so was he! Sully took a few more steps towards the icy water, but then a new sensation began to overwhelm him. Michaela was pressed up against his chest, her arms wound tightly around his neck, her breath tickling his ear. "Mmmm ... maybe I got a better idea," he murmured suggestively, as he turned his face towards hers, fixing his blue-eyed gaze on her sensuous mouth. He changed direction, moving away from the water towards an oak-shaded clearing. He gently placed her down on a slight mossy slope and then fell to his knees beside her. Water droplets from his hair fell onto the soft cotton of her blouse, making it stick to her skin and become almost transparent. Her eyes were glittering with both excitement and now desire and she nervously ran her tongue over her parted lips. Sully slowly slid down until he was laying propped up on his elbow beside her, his seductive eyes raking her flushed face. He lovingly ran the pad of his thumb across her moistened lips, and in response she reached up to place her hand at the nape of his neck, beneath his wet hair, to draw him down to her. She met resistance. He smiled teasingly at her, maintaining a little distance between them. Her brow creased in both puzzlement and exasperation and he chuckled deep in his throat at her reaction. He slowly ran his fingertips down the soft skin of her long neck, then between the valley of her breasts, pausing momentarily to lightly trace their outline before moving lower. Again she applied urgent pressure to his neck, trying to bring his lips down to join with hers. His smile broadened cheekily. Holding her gaze, he began to slowly unbutton her blouse, watching intently as every emotion she was feeling flashed across her beautiful face. As his fingers grazed her sensitive skin, her colour heightened and her nipples hardened, standing out clearly through the thin summer cotton. She moaned softly and strained to lift her head from the mossy ground, seeking his lips, but again he would not lower his head. When every button was undone he pushed the cotton back off her shoulders and then teasingly played with the ribbons at the front of her camisole. She was breathing heavily now, her eyes afire, her skin flushed with arousal. He began to ever so slowly draw the ribbon ends upwards until the bow loosened, and then he gradually parted the fronts of her camisole and tenderly edged his fingers under the soft fabric to caress her bare skin. Michaela's eyes closed, she caught her lip between her teeth and arched her back, reacting to his stirring touch. "Ya like that huh?" he murmured. She opened her eyes, the gleam in them all the answer he needed. At last he began to lower his head and her lips parted in anticipation of the kiss for which she longed. Instead, he began to nip and kiss the soft flesh of her neck, then chest and lastly her sensitive breasts. No longer able to remain passive beneath him, she brought her hands up to his damp shirt and tugged at it until it came adrift of his buckskins. At last she could run her hands over his heated skin, her ardent ministrations causing him to become even more fervent in his. His mouth was drawn inexorably upwards until, at last, their lips did meet in a prolonged, fulfilling kiss which made their hearts race at an even greater rate and a fine sheen of perspiration erupt on their skin. There was no time for complete disrobing. Their need, their desire was now too intense, too immediate. Finally the couple joined as one, their words of endearment, sighs of pleasure and cries of passion intermingling with those of the wild birds and creatures of their remote surroundings. Afterwards they lay close together in sated, loving silence, sheathed in a protective cloak of warm, filtered sunlight and unaccustomed, treasured solitude. Some little time later Michaela sat on the moss-covered ground, her back against the smooth bark of a young oak. Sully was laying between her legs, his back to her, his head cradled against her chest. She had straightened her skirt into some semblance of order and loosely tied the ribbons at the front of her camisole back together, though her blouse remained unbuttoned to her waist. As she gently ran her fingers through his long, sun-streaked hair he held her bare foot tenderly in his hand, gently massaging the instep with his thumb. She gave an occasional sigh of pleasure and contentment. She was staring off into space, not even noticing the beauty of this untouched wilderness, when suddenly she started nervously. Feeling the abrupt movement, Sully swung around to face her. "Michaela!" he queried apprehensively. She coloured slightly and then with a nervous smile, tentatively asked, "Nobody's likely to come along here ... are they Sully?" She was already tugging at her blouse, pulling the fronts together. Sully chuckled. "Bit late to be worryin' 'bout that now." Michaela's blush deepened and she continued to fiddle with the soft cotton. Sully grasped her hands and stilled them. "Didn' ya notice how the trail's all grown over .... aint no-one uses it no more .....," he said reassuringly. Michaela eyed him speculatively. "But *you* knew it," she challenged. "Well yeah .... I oughta," he replied ambiguously. "What do you mean?" "Travelled along this way often enough ..." "When?" she inquired, puzzled. Sully turned to face her and then pointed upwards, towards the hills in the distance. "'Bout three miles up that way, on a steep ridge, is Burnham's mine ..... worked there a long time ago .... Its closed now ...." Michaela's brow creased, obviously considering this new information and then she abruptly asked, "Is that where .....?" Sully, anticipating the remainder of her question jumped in, "Nah ... it aint where the cave-in happened .... worked at Burnham's afterwards ..." He gave an involuntary shudder at the memory. Michaela lowered her eyes to the ground and there was a long silence. She vividly recalled the day she'd asked, no, actually begged, him to tell her of that incident. Less than half way into his harrowing account she'd desperately wished he'd never relented. Dispelling the disturbing memory, she squeezed his hand and asked quietly, "When did you work there?" "Came in the summer of sixty ..... silver was startin' to run out over at Creighton's." He paused and with a nod indicated a point far off to the east. "Daniel stayed on .... but I decided to head further west .... Burnham took me on ..... Did a lot of spade work .... liftin' work .... Then one day, not long after startin', drove the supply wagon into Colorado Springs an' met Abagail ..." He trailed off, lost in both good and bad memories. When he realised what he'd said he started guiltily and his eyes flew to his wife's face. She smiled indulgently at him. "Its alright Sully ..." she said softly. He smiled and leaned across to kiss her lovingly. Then he added, "After that I got to know this trail pretty well .... used to travel it quite a lot ...." He grinned shyly at her. "Did you work there long?" "As long as I could .... Few years an' the line started ta run out there too ..... Burnham kept me on cos I'd do just about anythin'." For some reason he dropped his head and then stared away into the distance. He murmured distractedly, "I started buildin' the homestead .... needed the money ...." He shook himself and smiled endearingly at her. "It's a long time ago .... ya can see that by the trail .... almost disappeared." Michaela gazed up towards the ridge of which Sully had spoken. "So nobody stayed up there? No-one at all?" "Why would they? .... No reason to .... unless ya want to be a hermit," Sully chuckled. Then his brow creased in thought. "Course I heard some Jewish families settled further up in the mountains ...... somewhere mid way between here an' Soda Springs .....near the pass inta the next valley. Used ta be a few of 'em workin' in the minin' camps .... mostly on the books or managin' supplies ...." He trailed off, his eyes turned towards a distant peak. "I wish I'd known you then," murmured Michaela. "There's a part of you I know so little about ..." Sully shrugged his shoulders. "Ya know the important part ...," he whispered softly. "The past is the past .... don' much like lookin' back..." Michaela leant across to give him a loving, understanding kiss and then glanced up into the clear, blue, summer sky. "Do you think we should be heading back? How long will it take us to reach home? The children are expecting us for supper .." Sully chuckled. "We got plenty of time ... sun won' set til after eight .... Still I suppose we better be gettin' ready ...." The last he spoke almost reluctantly. Michaela, recognising the tone of regret, edged across and into his arms. "Its been a wonderful three days Sully," she said softly. "We so seldom have the opportunity to just be together." "Mmmm ...," he agreed. "We'll have to make more time huh?" He pulled her close into a loving embrace, savouring these last few moments before they returned to their busy lives in Colorado Springs. At last he said ruefully, "Ready?" She pulled back and nodded her head, reaching for her scattered boots and stockings. Sully pulled his shirt on over his head, leaving it loose over his buckskins and then drew on his socks and boots. Suddenly, as he was tying the first set of laces, he paused, and his eyes flew to the overgrown trail. Michaela, noticing his stillness, also ceased what she was doing. She heard it too. "Someone's coming!" she hissed, her hands flying to the buttons on her blouse. "Uh huh," rejoined Sully, quickly tying his other boot. Michaela's eyes were frantically scanning the clearing, seeking an escape, or at least a place to hide until she was more presentably dressed. Sully edged towards the narrow trunk of the oak tree and whispered, "Sit behind me, against my back .... maybe they'll ignore us." Michaela sighed and did as she was told, retorting in an indignant whisper, "You said no-one uses this trail!" "They don't .... You saw how overgrown it is," replied Sully, also in a whisper, unable to disguise the gleam of humour in his eyes, a gleam which thankfully went unseen by his embarrassed wife. Haste made the buttons on her blouse seem both minuscule and numerous and her fingers stiff and lacking coordination. Again she sighed frustratedly. Meanwhile the steady clomping of horse's hooves was growing louder and a single rider appeared in Sully's field of vision. He couldn't help but grunt in disgust when he recognised the rider. Of all people! Much to Michaela's dismay she heard the horse stop on the trail adjacent to them and then a familiar chuckle. "Afternoon Sully." The man paused as if waiting for her to turn around and then added, "An' Michaela..... Enjoyin' the summer sun I see," he sneered, albeit good-naturedly. "Afternoon Hank," replied Sully, endeavouring to keep his voice even. "You're a long ways from home ..." "Same could be said for you two." The tall barkeep slid from his saddle to the ground and led his sweating horse across to the stream to drink and in so doing passed the flustered Michaela. "Afternoon Michaela .... Sun's warm aint it?" She blushed furiously, all too conscious of her blouse, now buttoned but hanging untidily over the waistband of her skirt and her dishevelled hair, which when she tried to pat it into place, disclosed a variety of dry leaves and twigs. She gave Hank a slight nod of her head and continued to work on her appearance. Hank wandered back to Sully. "You two headin' home?" he asked, the sneering tone now absent from his voice. "Uh huh ..... kids are expectin' us for supper," replied Sully. "You?" "Yeah .... Reckon Jake'll be sick of mindin' the 'Nugget' for me by now .... Teresa'll have a bit to say on that subject too." "How long ya bin gone?" asked Sully, not naturally inquisitive but trying to distract the saloon keeper's attention from his obviously flustered wife. "Nearly a week," replied Hank with a shrug. It was obvious he was reluctant to say what he'd been doing. Sully couldn't resist. "Bin up in the mountains?" The taller man's eyes flew to Sully's deadpan face. "Ah .... nah ..... bin to Manitou .... Had ta check out the competition ..... Some investor from Denver's buildin' a new hotel ...." "You've taken the long way home comin' through here," remarked Sully with a sly grin. "An I never heard of a trip to Manitou takin' a week." Hank's head dropped a little. "Yeah ... well maybe I needed some time on my own .... like you two huh?" This time Sully shrugged his shoulders. It didn't matter to him what Hank had been doing. He figured every man had a right to some privacy. He turned a little towards Michaela. "You ready to go?" he asked gently. He was startled by the hint of tears in her eyes. She was plainly mortified to have been discovered in a state of undress by Hank. She nodded bravely and he stood, offering her his hand. She allowed him to draw her up and then surreptitiously straightened her blouse and skirt, endeavouring to tuck the ends of the blouse into her waistband. Noting Michaela's discomfiture, Hank couldn't help but grin, though refrained from commenting, something for which Sully was grateful. "Mind if I ride along with ya? Seein' we're all headed in the same direction ..." inquired Hank, in a tone which suggested that he was only being polite, he was going to ride with them anyway. Michaela bit her lip but she too refrained from commenting. Her beautiful summer's day alone with her husband had definitely taken a turn for the worst. She nodded her agreement and watched as Sully strode across to untether the horses, leaving her alone with the barkeep. "Mighty quiet today Michaela," he chuckled. He leaned a little closer. "Don' worry I won' tell no-one ...," and he gave her a conspiratorial wink. Michaela's blushed deepened and she lowered her eyes to the dusty trail. Would she ever live this down? Hank's mocking grin and words were hard to endure at the best of times. He seemed to delight in making her feel uncomfortable. She drew her diminutive self up to her full height and said with as much dignity as she could muster, "I'd appreciate that Hank." In reply, Hank merely chuckled again. Neither Michaela, lost in thought as she wandered over to Flash, nor the two men making desultory conversation, were aware of the eerie stillness which abruptly descended upon the clearing. The birds suddenly ceased their summer song, there was no rustling of creatures amongst the trees, even the cicadas seemed to be holding their collective breath. Sully bolstered Michaela up into her saddle. She settled herself and, as a matter of habit, unhooked her leather hat from where it had been suspended on her saddle horn, and placed it on her head, securely fastening the cords under her chin. Hank lifted his leg and stepped into his stirrup, preparatory to mounting his tall chestnut, while Sully strode around to his horse and confidently grabbed the reins. What happened next seemed to occur almost in slow motion. Suddenly, piercing the silence, came the strident, ferocious growl of a mountain lion objecting to trespassers occupying its domain. As one, the three horses shied and reared up. Michaela, her hands at her chin instead of on the reins, tumbled backwards, hitting the ground with a bone-jarring thump. Hank, his foot in the stirrup, was also tipped backwards, then painfully dragged for a few yards as he struggled to free his foot. Sully lunged forward but was not quick enough to stop his frightened horse which took off up the trail at speed, dragging its unwanted hindrance along on his stomach, before ridding itself of him with a fierce backward kick. Within seconds, silence again reigned in the woods and three, stunned people lay on the ground attempting to regain their breath and equilibrium. Sully was up first, his arm and hand held awkwardly against his chest. For just a moment his eyes focussed on the cloud of dust which signified the disappearance of their horses into the distance. Shaking his head in disgust, he hurried over to Michaela who was laying on her side on the ground, gasping for breath. "Michaela .... you alright?" he inquired anxiously. Unable to gain enough breath to speak, she nodded and then grimaced in pain as she tried to turn onto her back. "Michaela?" he asked even more worriedly. At last she took a deep breath and wheezed, "Its alright ...... just winded .... that's all." She took several more deep breaths and then coughed. Sully eased her up into a sitting position and as she rested her full weight on her buttocks she moaned in pain. "Michaela?" he exclaimed. "I must have landed on my hip," she said softly, easing herself back onto her left side. "Is it broken?" "I doubt it .... probably badly bruised," Michaela replied, moving gingerly. She glanced up into the worried blue eyes of her husband. "Its alright Sully ..... I'll be fine," she reassured him. She suddenly realised that she was not the only one hurt. "Sully! Your arm!" she exclaimed, gently reaching to draw it down from where he held it gingerly against his chest. Now it was Sully's turn to do the reassuring. "Guess its bruised too ... around the elbow," he said softly. He reluctantly let her examine his arm and when she reached his hand, winced as she gently unfurled his balled up fist. "This isn't bruising Sully," said Michaela reprovingly. The reins he'd grasped tightly in a desperate bid to control his horse, had bitten into the flesh, and the palm of his hand was crossed with deep red welts, some of which bore broken, bloody skin. "Oh Sully," she sighed. She lifted his hand to her lips and gave it a soft kiss. "I'll bind it up in a minute," she whispered, and then glanced around seeking Hank. She spied him sitting some ten yards away, tentatively holding his left knee. "Hank? Are you alright?" she called. "Yeah .... I'm fine ..... Damn horses," he cursed, rubbing at his kneecap. "Can never trust 'em." His brow creased in both pain and concern. He directed his gaze at Sully. "What do we do now eh? ..... Long way back ta town." Sully shrugged his shoulders. "Aint got a choice .... Gonna haveta take it real slow though ...." He turned to Michaela. "Can ya stand up?" She regarded him dubiously. "I think so," she replied with decided reservations. Her hip was beginning to throb now that the initial shock was wearing off. She again glanced across at Hank and with a nod of her head, remarked quietly, "Um ... by the look of it he may not be able to hobble far either." She grasped Sully's good arm and he gently eased her upright. She finally stood, wavering a little, favouring her right leg. "Can ya walk?" Sully asked apprehensively, noting her reluctance to place her weight squarely on both feet. She shrugged her shoulders and clasped his forearm tightly. She took a tentative step and immediately her leg buckled under her as the hip rejected any idea of moving and she gave a barely stifled moan. Sully grasped her tightly as she threatened to topple. "Here ... let me help ya," he said, lowering her to the ground. He watched anxiously as her face paled and a sheen of perspiration appeared on her skin. He squatted down before her. "Looks like you're the one aint gonna be movin' anywhere," he said lovingly, gently brushing the hair back from her forehead. She nodded mutely, her hand held protectively against her painful hip. Sully instinctively glanced around at the clearing which just a short Time ago had been a haven but which now seemed foreign and even dangerous. He shook his head ruefully. Hank was right. They *were* a long way from home and with Michaela in such poor shape it could now take *days* to reach Colorado Springs, not just hours. He eyed the barkeep who was still gingerly rubbing his knee. He rose and wandered over to the him. "Is it bad?" he asked. Hank shrugged his shoulders. "Hurts pretty bad but I don' think anythin's broken .... Least I hope not ..." He tried to flex the leg and winced. "Damn horse," he reiterated under his breath. "Hank? Are you alright?" Michaela suddenly called across the clearing. "Yeah .... 'bout as good as you I reckon," Hank replied. He looked up at Sully. "Here give us a hand an' I'll try ta git up," he said determinedly. Sully held out his good hand and taking Hank's, heaved him upright. It was immediately clear that the barkeep, although not quite as incapacitated as Michaela, was also going to experience considerable difficulty walking very far. He glanced across into Sully's concerned eyes, his brow creased in consternation. "Aint good is it?" he said, stating the obvious. "No it aint," agreed Sully, his eyes flying from one patient to the other. "But we can't stay here." Hank nodded and took a few tentative steps towards Michaela. By the time he stood beside her he was breathing heavily and resting his weight on the other leg, trying to ease the perpetual pain. "You better let me examine that knee," Michaela recommended kindly. "Aint gonna do much good," replied Hank practically. "Don' see no medical bag round here ..." Michaela nodded dejectedly. "Everything went with the horses," she muttered. "Uh huh," agreed the two men simultaneously. For the first time their precarious situation hit Michaela. She looked up at Sully, her brow creased in consternation. "What are we going to do?" she asked anxiously. "Gonna head home," Sully replied immediately. "How?" "Well ... its gonna be slow ... but if I fashion some sort of crutch for Hank ..... an' I carry you ...." His voice trailed off as his mind went to work. "Haven't you forgotten something Sully?" asked Michaela, her tone serious. "What?" "Your arm and hand ..." Sully eyed the damaged hand ruefully. "What about 'em?" "We're not going to get very far with you having to carry me." "Done it before," rejoined Sully, with just a touch of indignation. "Yes ... you have .... But never with one hand out of operation," replied Michaela sceptically. Hank was watching this exchange with interest. When Michaela mentioned Sully carrying her before, he regarded the other man quizzically. Deciding that the couple had reached an impasse, he interjected. "Seems to me there's only one thing for it," he stated decisively. Both pairs of eyes regarded him intently, so he continued. "Sully .... seems to me you're the only one can move without pain an' probably just as fast as usual .... So maybe you'd better go for help .... Me an' Michaela can wait here for ya." "I aint leavin' her behind," retorted Sully stubbornly. "Aint got a choice man," responded Hank just as stubbornly. The two sometimes adversaries eyed each other warily. Michaela suddenly broke the silence. In a subdued tone she said, "Hank's right Sully .... It would take us days to get home if we all went together .... If you go alone we could be home by sometime tomorrow." She paused and then added plaintively, "Couldn't we?" Sully took a deep breath. Inwardly he had to acknowledge that there was no alternative, but giving way to Hank was something which went against the grain. He shrugged his shoulders and murmured with disgust, "Aint any food .... an' its gonna be cold tonight once the sun goes down ..." "We'll build a fire," replied Hank, withdrawing a box of matches from his back pocket. "And I'm sure we can survive without a meal for a few hours Sully .... that's the least of our worries," added Michaela. Sully turned to face his wife. "Don' like leavin' ya Michaela," he said softly. "I know .... and I don't like you going," replied Michaela lovingly. "But there's no choice." "Guess not." He sighed. "Might come across a homestead up the road a bit .... Aint bin along this way for a long time .... Settlers mighta moved in over the years ...." He trailed off, musing over the entire situation. At last he reached a decision. "Alright .... I'll go .... But not before I make sure there's enough wood to last ya the night and I'll try ta find ya something ta eat ..."

Title | Next