He stared at her in astonishment, then looked toward the stairs, obviously trying to grasp the fact the a long-lost relative he'd never known was even now asleep in a room above their heads.  Rising to his feet, he paced around the room, betraying his agitation.  Michaela's eyes followed him.  He stopped before the fireplace and looked at her, his eyes hungry for answers.

     "How did she know to come here?" he asked.  "How did she know where to find me?  How did she even know who I was?"

     "She knew none of those things when she came here," Michaela answered.  "Just as I told you, she was on a tour of speaking engagements with Marjorie, and she simply came here to visit at Marjorie's invitation.  It wasn't till she saw our wedding portrait that she recognized you—or more precisely, recognized your resemblance to her sister.  When she learned that your name was Byron, she realized that you had to be her sister's son—her nephew—and that after all these years, she'd found you at last.

     "The shock was just as great for Rosalind earlier, as it is for you now," Michaela assured him.  "When she came to the realization, she nearly fainted.  And it wasn't till many hours later that she was able to tell me who she really was."

     "Is she all right?" Sully asked quickly, indicating his characteristic compassion for others, even if they were strangers.

     Michaela smiled.  "Yes, she's fine, now," she told him.  "She simply needed time to absorb the emotional impact of finally finding you after so long.  It was a tremendous shock for me as well, Sully.  My first reaction was much like yours—I could hardly believe that it was possible.

     "And yet," she added thoughtfully, "Now that I've had some time to consider it all, I feel that it wasn't—couldn't—be a coincidence.  I have to believe that something--whether it be fate, the spirits—perhaps even the Almighty himself—lead each of you to this time and place, so that you could find each other."

     "I 'spose you're right," Sully conceded, returning to sit by her.  He looked at the cameo yet again, continuing to marvel at its existence.

     "Sully," Michaela said, looking at him earnestly.  "Rosalind told me a great many things—about your mother's childhood and history, how she came to emigrate to America, and what she knew of your mother's life here—and your life as well--that she learned from your mother's letters and from the Edwards. There's so much you don't know, that I know she wants to share with you, if you want to hear it.

     "And," she added more slowly,  "I must confess that much of what you told me tonight, I already knew, from Rosalind.  I felt so badly for being dishonest with you, but I needed to learn what you knew of your mother's past, so that I would know how to tell you the truth—or even if you were able or willing to hear it.  I hope you know that I would never deliberately lie to you—that what I did, I did out of love.  Can you understand and forgive me?"

     Michaela's hands were resting in her lap.  Reaching over, Sully took one of her hands in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing it tenderly.   "There ain't nothin' to forgive," he said softly, echoing her earlier words to him.

     "Are you sure?" she asked him anxiously.

     "Truly," he assured her.  "I know how hard it musta been for you, carryin' that secret inside—askin' me those questions, not knowin' how I would react."

     "Thank you, Sully, for understanding," she said, feeling the burden of anxiety lifting from her heart and mind.  "I was so worried—even frightened—of pushing you too hard, or intruding on your privacy.  On the one hand, learning your aunt was alive and wanted to know you could be a wonderful thing.  But on the other, I knew it had the potential for bringing you heartbreak, by reminding you of painful memories you wanted to forget."

     "First off, you could never 'intrude' on me in any way, Michaela," he said.  "I love you—and my heart will always be completely open to you.  And second, like you said before, we've always been open and honest with each other.  Not tellin' me the truth about Rosalind woulda been like a betrayal—and you could never do that to me.

     "You never have to be afraid to tell me anythin', Michaela.  Don't you know that by now?"  He added, smiling at her gently.

     Michaela returned the smile.  "I should," she replied, chagrined.  "You're right—it was foolish of me to worry."

     "Not foolish," Sully said.  "You were just frettin' over me—and I love you for that.  It honors me to know how much you care—how important my feelins' are to you."

     "There is one more thing I want to tell you," Michaela said.  "After Rosalind told me her story, and your mother's history, she asked me to tell her everything I could about you.  She was so anxious to learn all she could about you, after years of not even knowing whether you were alive.  I *had* to answer her questions Sully.  I told her everything I knew about your life before I knew you, and everything about our lives together.  I hope that's all right—that you're not angry that I didn't let you speak for yourself."

     He kissed her hand again.  "You're part of me, and I'm part of you.  As far as I'm concerned, you got every right to speak for me, if I can't be here to do it myself.  Besides, 'cept for Cloud Dancin', who knows me better than you?"

     At his words, Michaela's last reservation fled, and in a burst of love and gratitude, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.  "I love you so much!" she exclaimed.

     "I love you too," Sully responded, holding her close.  After a moment they drew away from each other, and, cupping her chin in his hand and staring into her eyes, he added, "Will you stop frettin' now?"

       "I promise to try," she answered, smiling.

     "Good," he pronounced.

     He resumed his seat and looked again at the cameo.   Michaela noticed how his eyes never seemed to stray very far from it, as if he had to keep convincing himself of its reality.  She stood next to him and put her hand on his shoulder.  Sully reached up to cover her hand with his.

     "So now that you know everything, how do you feel?" she asked him.

     "Truth be told, I ain't quite sure," Sully responded slowly.  "It's so much to take in all at once, I guess.  All this time, my ma's past was like a dark room behind a locked door—and I didn't have the key.   I 'spose I always thought it would be closed to me.  But now someone's come along at last who can open the door and shine a light on the darkness."

     Michaela came around and knelt in front of him.  Looking up at him she said, " Are you ready to see what's behind the door?"

     He looked at his mother's picture for a moment longer, then snapped the cameo shut decisively.

     "Yeah," he replied.  "It's time to let the light in—no more shadows and dark corners."

     "And Rosalind?" Michaela added.   "How do you feel about meeting her?"

     "I guess I'm kinda nervous," Sully admitted.  "Till just a few minutes ago, I didn't even know she was alive—or anythin' about her. .And I surely never dreamed she'd been lookin' for me most of my life.  But she's my family—and from what you say, she cares about me.  I guess I feel lucky to have the chance to finally know her.  It's just—“   He hesitated.

     "Just what?" Michaela prompted him.

     "I'm surely not what she expects," Sully said.  "She's this cultured lady of quality—and I'm about as far from that as Colorado is from England." He grinned, but Michaela could detect his underlying fear that he would be a disappointment to his aunt.

     "She expects a man of honor and principle," Michaela told him levelly.   "A man who is devoted to his family, and puts them first, before anything else.  A man who loves the land, and would do everything in his power to protect it.  A man who is loyal to his friends, and fights for the rights of those who can't fight for themselves.  A man who will always be there when you need him.  She expects the man I described to her, Sully.  And that man is you."

     He bit his lip and looked away from her.  "There are plenty of folks who would say that I didn't put you first, when I helped the Indians at Palmer Creek," he said.  "And I haven't been here for you for a long time—too long."

     Michaela's heart twisted at the shame in his voice.  Laying her hand over his heart she said quietly, "You've always been with me—with us—in here, where it counted.  When you rescued Cloud Dancing, and tried to help the Indians escape an intolerable situation, you were being true to yourself and your beliefs.  That's the man I love and respect.  And that's the man Rosalind wants to know.

     "Sully, just a moment ago you told me to let go of my worries.  Will you make the same promise to me, and let go of your guilt?"

     He sighed, and then gave her a small smile.  "I promise to try," he said.

     "Good," Michaela said firmly.

     "You sure have a way of turnin' my own words back on me," Sully commented wryly, his smile widening in spite of himself.

     Michaela returned the smile.  "Can I help it if we think alike?" she teased.

     "Guess it's 'cause we have so much in common," he answered, reminding them both of a time when they feared they were too different to make their relationship work.  The idea seemed incomprehensible now.

     Michaela took his hands in hers.  "Do you feel more comfortable about meeting Rosalind now?" she asked.

     Sully nodded, and rose to his feet.  "Yeah, I'm think I'm ready.  Lookin' forward to it, even."

     "You won't regret it, Sully," Michaela promised, rising as well.