The night before the trial Sully extinguished the lamps completely.  The only illumination in the room came from the small fire flickering in the grate, and the dance of the candle flames by their bed.

     Sully and Michaela lay together, heart to heart, pressed so closely to one another that neither could have said where one left off and the other began.  Even the rhythm of their breathing and the cadence of their heartbeats seemed to be in perfect sync.  For a long time they didn’t speak.  They didn’t have to—the connection between them was so palpable that it almost seemed they could hear each other’s thoughts and communicate without words.

     Finally, however, Sully felt the need to break the silence.  He shifted his position, and Michaela hers, so that they lay facing one another.  Sully gazed at the beloved face just inches from his own.  He reached up and brushed her cheek with his fingertips.  “I wish I could look at you like this forever,” he whispered.

     Michaela took his hand in hers and kissed his palm.  “And I, you,” she whispered back.  “But Sully, we needn’t be face-to-face to *see* each other.  From the moment I fell in love with you, your image was imprinted on my heart forever.”

     “It’s the same for me,” Sully said.  “I carry you with me everywhere—I’ll carry you with me to the end of my days.”

     “Which won’t be for a long, long time,” she told him, laying her hand against his cheek.  Her soft lips pressed against his, and Sully pulled her to him tightly, his need for her like a hunger that couldn’t be satiated, a thirst that could never be slaked.  Michaela responded in kind, her heart in tune with his, her skin on fire with the sensations his touch awakened in her.  But at the same time part of her held back, sensing that there were thoughts to be shared, and words that needed to be said—by Sully and herself—before they gave themselves to one another.

     Sully felt her reserve, and understood the reason for it.  He marveled that she’d read his mind once again, recognizing that he needed to speak his heart to her before tomorrow came, and their lives might change forever.

     “Michaela, there’s so much I want to say to you—so much I need to say,” he began.  “I’m prayin’ with everythin’ inside me that all goes well at the trial, and I’m finally set free.  But—we got to be prepared—just in case . . . things go wrong.  And this may be my only chance to—to tell you how I feel.”  He paused.  Though he knew she understood his need to share his feelings, he half-expected that she would discourage him from going on, telling him not to focus on the negative.  But her only response was to hug him more tightly.

     Sully returned her embrace, drawing strength and courage from their contact.  For a moment he was silent, his eyes trailing lovingly over her features.  His hand softly caressed the fall of her hair, as he watched how the candlelight kindled the copper highlights in its shining depths.  After a bit, he spoke again.

     “There’s so much in my heart, I don’t know where to begin,” he said softly.  “If I had a year, it still wouldn’t be enough time to tell you everythin’ I feel inside.  And a lifetime ain’t long enough for me to show you how much I love you.”  He cupped her chin in his hand, and kissed her gently.

     “Bein’ married before, and then bein married to you for nearly three years—well, I figured that over time, things would settle into a kind of routine.  Not borin’—never that!—just . . . day-to-day life.  You know—quiet, ordinary.  But it’s never been like that.  Each day’s been special.  Each day—and each night—has been a gift, ‘cause I’ve spent them with you.  I get up every mornin’, and I feel like a bridegroom—so excited and so happy, and more in love than I ever thought I could be.”  He took her hand and tenderly kissed her fingers.

     “Sometimes, I wake up before dawn and watch you sleepin’,” he continued.   “And I can’t believe all this is real—that you’re real, and that you love me.  It’s like the most beautiful dream of joy I could ever have, and I pray to the spirits not to wake me, but to let me keep on dreamin’ forever.”

     Michaela’s eyes glistened with tears.  As he watched, a single teardrop escaped to trail down her cheek.  Gently he kissed it away, and pressed his forehead against hers.

     “I’m having the same dream,” she whispered in his ear.  She cradled her head in the niche of his shoulder, as softly and rhythmically he stroked her hair.

     “You’ve given me so many gifts, Michaela,” he said quietly.  “You gave me your friendship, your carin’, your trust.  You took care of me when I was hurt, or sick, and gave me comfort when I was troubled.  And you gave me your heart.  You loved me and completed me in a way I didn’t even know I needed till I saw you for the first time.  Most of all, you gave me yourself.  You promised yourself to me forever, trustin’ me to love you, and protect you, and be faithful to you always.  And you gave me a family—Matthew, Colleen, Brian—and our precious little Kates.”

     He drew back to gaze at her again, the blue of his eyes shimmering with tears, reminding Michaela of an azure sea at dusk.

     “You gave me a life, Michaela,” he said, the love in his eyes piercing her to the very core of her being.  “A life rich and full and overflowin’ with joy.  If I . . . had to go away . . . even if—I died tomorrow—I’d still be the luckiest man on earth to have known that kind of joy for even the tiniest speck of time.”

     “Oh, Sully,” Michaela whispered, her voice breaking as her tears flowed unchecked.  At her reaction, distress shadowed his features.

     “I’m sorry, Michaela,” he said remorsefully.  “I didn’t want to make you sad.  Please, Sweetheart, don’t cry.”

     Michaela smiled at him through her tears.  “Don’t be sorry,” she told him.  “These aren’t tears of sadness.  They’re tears of love, and joy, and—something so deep inside me I can’t put it into words.

     “I’m so lucky, Sully,” she went on, gently brushing the hair back from his face.  “You honored me with your friendship.  You accepted me and respected me, when no one else would.  You always had faith in me, and you supported and helped me through so many trials and struggles.  You loved my children, and you taught them so much and protected them—protected us all.  And you gave me your heart, and trusted me not to hurt you, even though you’d been through so much pain in the past, losing Abagail and your baby.  I was so proud when you told me you loved me—I still am, and I always will be.  You’re the other half of my heart  . . .”  She paused then and looked down, as if unable to face what she needed to say next.

     But he put his hand beneath her chin and tipped up her face so that he could look at her.

     “What is it?” he said gently.

     Michaela gazed at him, her entire soul visible in her eyes..  “If—if we should have to part—I don’t know how I will bear it,” she whispered.  “I can’t imagine a life without you.  And it breaks my heart to think of what you may have to face.  Yet—I  know that physical separation can never really part us.  I will love you and think about you every day, every moment.  And I will wait for you no matter how long it takes—till we can be together again.”

     “And we *will* be together,” he vowed softly.  “No matter what happens, I swear I’ll come back to you.”

    Then, the pain of the last several days and their fears about the future were forgotten for one precious hour, as they consummated their love.

* * * * * * * * * *

     Sometime later Michaela, clad in a thin nightgown, sat on the edge of the bed, drawing a brush through her waist-length tresses.  Sully, his neck and chest oiled with sweat, stood cooling himself by the partially open window as he watched her perform the familiar, and—to his eyes—sensuous ritual.  After a while, he moved away from the window and came up behind her quietly.  Without a word, he lifted the gleaming mass of her hair off her shoulders so that it cascaded down her back.  Taking the brush from her hand, he continued to gently draw it through the shining strands with slow, steady strokes.  Michaela closed her eyes, enjoying Sully’s tender ministrations.  He leaned in closer to her, inhaling the scent of her hair, which smelled like flowers.  After a time, unable to resist the temptation of her alluring proximity, he put the brush aside, and drew back the hair from one side of her face, revealing her throat and shoulder.  He bent down and began to kiss the softness of her exposed flesh, the touch of his lips causing Michaela to shiver uncontrollably.  Reaching around her, he unfastened the buttons of her nightgown and slipped it off her shoulders so that it fell to pool around her naked waist.  He continued to ply her with soft kisses, nuzzling the tender skin at the nape of her neck, then moving seductively down her spine.

     Michaela’s pulse quickened.  “That’s lovely,” she murmured, turning to face him.  He kissed her ear, her temple, then the line of her jaw, till finally, his lips found hers.  Gentle at first, the kiss became deeper and more urgent as their reawakened desire began to overwhelm them both.  Carefully Sully lowered Michaela back on the bed and he stretched out next to her, his mouth continuing to hungrily seek hers.  Gradually he shifted his position so that he was above her.  Michaela gripped his back, feeling his muscles rippling as he moved on top of her.

     Sully buried his face in her hair, whispering endearances as his hands explored her body, finding and stroking all her intimate places and bringing them alive with pleasure.  His hands tenderly cupped her breasts, as his lips roved across them.  He moved to the valley between her breasts, kissing it seductively, then moved his lips slowly and sensually downward.  Michaela twined her fingers in his hair, moaning softly and repeating his name over and over.

     She gripped him more tightly, and rose up to meet him as his body pressed against hers.

     “Love me, Sully,” she whispered in his ear.  “Please . . .”

     Beyond speech, he gathered her to him, molding his flesh to hers.  They moved together, slowly at first, then more and more urgently, their breathing rapid, pulses pounding, climbing the mountain together till they reached the pinnacle and the force of their passion erupted in a shattering crescendo.

     It was, if such a thing were possible, even better than it had been the first time.

     “I love you, Michaela,” Sully choked huskily, not even realizing there were tears on his face till she gently wiped them away with her fingertip.

     “I love you,” she breathed, cupping his face in her hands and reaching up to kiss him deeply.  After a long moment, he drew away and stretched out beside her, fitting his body next to hers.

     Exhausted, they sprawled together amidst the tangle of sheets.  Michaela lay in the circle of Sully’s arms, her head tucked beneath his chin.  Slowly, their pounding hearts returned to their  normal rhythms, as they drifted somwhere between wakefulness and sleep.  But a lone coherent thought kept Sully from surrrendering to the oblivion that wanted to claim him.  There were still things that needed to be said, things he needed Michaela to know, in case the worst happened and she had to go on without him.

     “Michaela,” he whispered, “You sleepin’?”

     She yawned.  “Mm—almost,” she murmured.

     “Did I hurt you?” he asked softly, belatedly afraid that the heat of his passion might have been too much for her in her fragile condition.

     “No,” she said, coming more fully awake and wrapping her arm across his chest.  “I wanted you—I needed you—so much, Sully!  I’ve waited so long for this, and it was even more beautiful than I’d imagined.  But—is your shoulder all right?” she added anxiously, her eyes drawn to his bandage.

     “What shoulder?” he asked, a smile tugging at his mouth.  She smiled back and he hugged her more closely.  “It was wonderful for me, too,” he told her.  “And as much as you needed me, I needed you more.”  She sighed in contentment, laying her head back down on his chest and closing her eyes.

     “Michaela?” he said again.  “Please—don’t go to sleep yet.  I know it’s late, and that it’s important for you to get your rest.  We should both get a good night’s sleep.  But there are some things I still need to talk to you about, before tomorrow.”

     Michaela roused herself again.  She reached for her pillows and plumped them up against the headboard, then propped herself against them.  Sully sat up and moved around so he was facing her, his legs crossed Indian-fashaion.

     “What is it?” she asked.

     “There are things you need to know,” he began.

     “Sully, you already opened your heart to me.  You couldn’t have been more eloquent, or moved me more,” Michaela replied, looking at him with love.

     He reached out to take her hand.  “Thank you,” he said, smiling at her gently.  “But what we have to talk about now, is—well, how you and the kids are gonna get by, if I get sent away.”

     A shadow immediately crossed her face.  “Sully, we needn’t talk about that now.  You have enough on your mind with the trial, and recovering from your injury—I don’t want you wasting your energy worrying about us—“

     “Michaela, I love you for tryin’ to take the burden from me, and I wish with all my heart that we didn’t have to have this talk.  But the fact is that I may go to prison, and I gotta know that you and the kids will be secure and provided for.  This may be the last chance we have to speak in private, and get things settled.”

     Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she looked down, blinking rapidly.  “You’re *not* going to go to prison,” she said stubbornly.  Sully watched her remorsefully, hating to upset her, but needing her to face the truth.

     “Michaela,” he said.  She still refused to look at him.  “Michaela, please . . .”

     Michaela pulled her hand away from his and rose from the bed.  She retrieved her nightgown and slipped it on, then walked over to stand by the window, letting the night breeze cool her flushed cheeks.  “I don’t want to talk about this,” she said flatly.

     Sully sighed, and got up.   He grabbed his trousers from the chair where he’d tossed them earlier, and slid them on, then came over to stand behind her.  Tentatively, he slipped his arms around her waist.  Her posture remained rigid, but she didn’t push him away.  Sully rested his chin on her head.

     “I know how much this is hurting you,” he said quietly.  “And I’m so sorry I brought you so much pain.”

     “I don’t blame you,” she said in a muffled voice.  “You know that.”

     “Yeah, I do,” he said.  “You been incredibly forgivin’—even though I don’t deserve it.  But—Michaela, we been through tough times before.  I even got sent to prison before, and you were so strong, the way you faced up to that.  You wouldn’t give up fightin’ for me.  You were willin’ to do whatever you had to, for my sake.  You woulda waited for me a lifetime, if it came to that.”  He stroked his hands up and down her arms, feeling her becoming slightly more pliant under his touch.

     “You’ve always been so brave, so ready to face trouble and spit in its eye!” he told her.  “No matter what problems we’ve had, or what I put you through over the years, you’ve never flinched.”

     “Why are you saying this?” she asked, almost inaudibly.

     He ducked his head to lay his cheek against hers.  “’Cause I want you to know how much I admire you,” he said softly.  “You’re the strongest, bravest woman I’ve ever known.  It ain’t like you to act this way, not wantin’ to face things.  I just want to understand what you’re feelin’.  Why is this time different from all the others?”

     She turned to face him.  Irate tears stood in her eyes, and her mouth was tense with anger.

     “Maybe I’m tired of being ‘strong and brave,’” she said petulantly.  “Maybe I want to yell, and stamp my feet, and throw things!”  Startled at her outburst, he dropped his hands from her and backed away a step.

     “But Michaela, just a little while ago you said you’d wait for me—that you knew we’d never really be parted—“

     “I know what I said,” she replied.  “And I meant it.  It’s just—just—“

     “What?” he said softly.  “Tell me.”

    “I don’t WANT to be noble, and put on a brave face, standing by while they take you away from me!”  she lashed out.  “It’s not fair, Sully—it’s just not fair!”  Breaking down in tears, she turned away again, covering her face with her hands.

    He stared at her compassionately, finally understanding the depth of her grief and anger—emotions which she’d apparently buried so deep that she herself may not have realized they existed until this moment.

    “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  “I shoulda known.  The burden I put on you—all the pressure you been under since this whole thing with the reservation started . . . then—gettin’ shot, nearly dyin’—and then gettin’ shot at again . . .  I’ve been so blind, Michaela.  I thought I understood what all this had done to you.  But I didn’t have the first clue, did I?” he added gently.

    Michaela took her hands from her face.  Helplessly she looked around for a handkerchief to mop up her tears, but there was none in sight.

    “I told you, I don’t blame you,” she said in a low voice.

    Sully took his cast-off shirt from the chair—the only thing he could think of—and used the tail of it to dab at the tears on her cheeks.  “You *have* been brave and strong, all through this,” he said soothingly.  “But everyone’s got a limit, and I pushed you past yours.  There’s only so many times you can go to the well before it runs dry.”  He tilted her chin up, making her look at him.  “Let it out, Michaela,” he urged her.  “Tell me how angry you are about everythin’ that’s happened.  Yell at me.  Throw somethin’ at me,  if that’s what you want—I can take it.  You need to release your pain—just like you told me I needed to release my feelin’s about my ma.”

    Michaela took the shirt from him and finished blotting the wetness from her face, her breath hitching a little as her tears subsided.  “I’m not going to yell anymore, and I’m not going to throw anything,” she said quietly.  “I’m not angry—at least, not at you.”

    Sully’s eyes were kind, but skeptical.  “You sure?” he pressed.  “Not even a little?”

    “I swear it,” she vowed, staring at him forthrightly, so that he believed her.  She sighed heavily.  “I just—hate this situation—and I hate the people who want to hurt you, and take you away . . .”

    “Oh, Michaela,” he said, taking her in his arms.  She pressed her face against his chest, feeling the sobs start to well up inside her again.  He held her close as she cried.  “It’s all right,” he murmured to her softly.  “It’s gonna be all right.”   He continued to hold her, waiting patiently till this latest storm of weeping ran its course, then finally diminished.  Taking her hand, he led her over to the bed, and they sat down side-by-side.  He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him, feeling drained and empty from the tears she’d shed.

    “Better?” he asked softly.

    “I suppose—a little,” she said.  She looked down at the floor.  “I’m sorry, Sully.  I had no right to do that to you—tonight of all nights.  You needed my encouragement and support, and instead I selfishly threw a tantrum and made you feel more guilty.  I’m—I’m ashamed of myself.”

    “You got nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he told her.  “Your needs are just as important as mine.  And tonight you needed to let out the hurt and anger and fear.”  He turned her face up to his again.  “I’m angry too, Michaela.  At what the army did to Cloud Dancin’, at what Flagg did to you . . . mostly, I’m angry at myself for hurtin’ you.

    “And I’m scared,” he confided quietly.  “Just like you.  I don’t know how I’ll face it, if they find me guilty and I have to watch your face as they take me away.  All I can do is pray that I’ll be strong enough, and that someday the spirits will bring us back together again.  At least I know I’ll have your love to keep me goin’—and that still makes me richer and luckier than any man in the world.”  Tenderly he pressed his lips to hers, and this time she responded with her whole heart.

    As they drew away from each other many moments later he asked, “You think maybe you’re ready to talk now?”

    “Yes,” she replied, her features calm and composed, if a little pale.  “You’re right, Sully—we do need to discuss things, for the children’s sake.”

    “Thank you,” he said gratefully.  “I’ll feel a lot better, knowin’ things are settled.”

    “What did you want to tell me?” she asked, resigned.

    “Well, “ he began.  “I know you make a good livin’, Michaela, and that’s only bound to get better, as more and more folks settle in town and come to you for doctorin’.  And I know that somehow you’ve managed to make ends meet these last few months when I ain’t been here to contribute to our income.  But I’m worried about the future.  Most folks in town, like Loren or Robert E., would be content to wait awhile if you couldn’t pay ‘em right away.  Matter of fact, Loren told me just the other day that you could keep chargin’ on our account as long as you needed, and pay him when you can.”

    “That’s so kind of Loren,” Michaela commented.  “He can be so prickly on the outside, but he has such a soft heart within.”

    “He loves you like a daughter, Michaela.  And Brian means the world to him.  As for Katie, all she’s got to do is give him one of her smiles, and say, ‘Mistoo Bway!’—and he’s a goner,” Sully said, smiling fondly at the thought of his small daughter wrapping the crusty Loren around her little finger.

    Michaela smiled too.  “She’s certainly captured his heart,” she agreed.

    “But like I was sayin’, I’m afraid your income alone ain’t gonna be enough to cover all our expenses—like the mortgage.  You know how Preston is.  He ain’t about to be patient if a month goes by and you don’t have enough for a full payment.  And he’s probably still nursin’ a grudge against me for quittin’ on him so sudden when I was buildin’ his house.”

    Michaela was nodding at his words.  “A few days before Marjorie and Rosalind arrived, I was in the general store and heard Loren  talking about Preston,” she  remarked.  “Apparently Preston had been complaining to Loren that he’d had to hire carpenters and masons from Denver to finish the construction.  Preston claimed that they charged three times what you did, but their work didn’t begin to approach the quality of yours.”

    “I guess I can consider that a compliment—of sorts,” Sully said with a cynical smile.  “But you understand, then, what I’m talkin’ about as far as Preston’s concerned?”

    “Oh yes,” Michaela answered.  “I understand Preston very well.”

    “And then there’s Colleen’s schoolin’ . . . and—maybe—Brian’s and Katie’s schoolin’ too,” he added slowly.

    Michaela’s heart lurched as she considered  a future in which Katie would have grown to young womanhood and been ready for college, before her father was able to come home.  Her mind rebelled at the thought, then rejected it completely.  She could not bear to think of Sully being cheated out of seeing his son and daughter grow up.  She could not envision living through so many lonely, empty years without him—and she couldn’t bear to try.

    She could see by his expression that the idea was equally painful and repugnant to Sully.  But she also knew that he was determined to plan for the worst possible outcome and ensure that his family’s future was secure.  He was being so courageous, she thought, and he needed her to be courageous as well—now more than ever.  She knew it was her duty to lighten his burden, not add to it.

    “I understand your concerns about money, Sully,” she said.  “I know all too well how much it takes to feed and clothe the children, maintain the homestead and livestock, run the clinic, pay for Colleen’s education *and* meet the mortgage.  I’m so sorry you were forced to take on that debt.  If it weren’t for me having to burn everything in the clinic after that mysterious infection—“

    “I told you then, and I’m tellin’ you now—what happens to you happens to me,” he interrupted.  “You had to do what you did, to protect the town.  And I know how much the clinic means to you.  It’s part of you bein’ a doctor.  I couldn’t let you lose it.  It woulda broke your heart.”

    “It’s just a building, after all,” Michaela said, trying to make light of the situation.  “I can be a doctor anywhere—I could even work out of the homestead, as I did back in the beginning.  If we sold the clinic, we could pay off the mortgage, and at least be free of Preston.”

    “I know you can do your doctorin’ anywhere. You’d hitch up a wagon and go door-to-door, if that’s what it took,” Sully said.  “But you spent too many years buildin’ your practice, strugglin’ to gain the trust of the town, to just let it all go.  The clinic ain’t just a piece of property, Michaela—it’s part of you.  I wasn’t about to let you give it up—I still ain’t.  Owin’ Preston was a small price to pay to make sure you kept on doin’ what you were born to do, in the clinic you built with your own two hands.”

    Michaela covered his hand with hers.  “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re so determined to preserve the clinic,” she said.  “Your pride in my accomplishments, and your respect for my career touches me more than I could ever put into words.  But Sully, our resources are so limited.  If we rule out selling the clinic, I can’t think of any other way to increase our income—except, perhaps . . .”  Her voice trailed off as a thought came into her mind.

    “If you’re gonna suggest askin’ your ma, or Rosalind for help—“ Sully began warningly.

    “No, I wasn’t going to say that,” Michaela said, squeezing his hand reassuringly.  “I know how you feel about having to rely on others—especially my family.  And even though Rosalind would no doubt offer us anything she had, I know you wouldn’t feel right about asking her.”

    “Right on both counts.  I’m glad you understand,” Sully said, relieved.  “So what were you thinkin’?” he added after a moment.

    “I was thinking that I might sell some of my jewelry,” Michaela replied.  “I have some lovely pieces that my family gave me over the years, and I’m sure they would fetch a respectable price.”

    But Sully was shaking his head.  “No, Michaela, I can’t let you do that.  Those things were gifts from your ma and pa—they got sentimental value, and probably hold lots of precious memories besides.  I won’t let you give up your treasures.”

    “You and the children are my treasure, Sully,” she said.  “You mean far more to me than a few jewels.”

    “I know,” he answered, looking at her lovingly.  “But you’re still not gonna sell them.  Save them for Colleen and Katie.”

    “If that’s what you want,” Michaela said.

    “I do,” he affirmed.

    “But then—what other choice do we have, Sully?  Except to go on as we have and hope that we can get by?”

    “There’s—another solution,” Sully said after a pause, a curious expression in his eyes.  “It’s somethin’ I never told you about, but you need to know it now.”

    “What?” Michaela asked, mystified at this surprising turn in their conversation.

    “Out at the homestead, by a corner of the barn, there’s a strongbox,” he said.  “It’s buried about two feet down.  Inside are two gold nuggets.  One of them is about the size of the one Jake got from his pa.  The other is a little smaller.”

    “Gold nuggets?” Michaela repeated, her eyes shocked.  “But—where did they come from?”

    “Daniel gave them to me,” he answered.

    “Daniel—your childhood friend?”

    Sully bit his lip, looking chagrined.  “Yeah.  That time I went to Nevada, to help him with his mine?  When I was fixin’ to come home, Daniel came to me with these nuggets and asked me to take them—said they came from the first strike he’d made.  Well, right off I said I couldn’t accept them—that I couldn’t take payment for helpin’ a friend.  And him offerin’ me somethin’ so big—well, it felt like too much---almost like charity.  But he pleaded with me to take them anyway.  He said it was his way of sayin’ thanks for all I done for him, and in memory of all our years of friendship.  It seemed to mean so much to him.  And I got to thinkin’ about how the Cheyenne repay a gift with a gift.  To Daniel’s way of thinkin’, I‘d given him a gift by helpin’ him set up his mine, and this was his way of givin’ a gift back to me.  So I finally accepted.”

    “But why didn’t you tell me?” Michaela asked, still stunned by his revelation.

    “I ain’t sure, exactly,” Sully admitted.  “Maybe ‘cause I still didn’t feel right about takin’ them.  And I had no intention of usin’ them for myself.  I guess I figured I’d just hide them someplace safe, and hold onto them till I could pass them down to the kids—maybe use them to pay for Brian’s or Katie’s college, or give them as weddin’ presents, to help the kids get started with their own lives.  Or—“  He hesitated.  “If anythin’ ever happened to me, I’d leave them to you and the kids in my will.

    “I didn’t mean to keep secrets from you, Michaela.  I planned to tell you someday, when the time was right.  As long as we were together, managin’all right, meetin’ our expenses—even the mortgage—there didn’t seem to be no need.  But it appears that now, the time has come.

    “I want you to use them, Michaela,” he told her.  “To pay for the kids’ schoolin’, or meet the bills, or to pay off the mortgage.  There should be enough there to guarantee you and the kids can live in comfort, no matter what happens.”

    Michaela was staring at him in wonder.  “This is so hard to comprehend,” she said.  “I can hardly believe that—just like that—our money worries are solved.”

    “Believe it,” Sully said.  “I almost refused Daniel’s gift out of pride.   But I ain’t gonna let pride stand in the way of my family bein’ taken care of—‘specially if I ain’t here to do it myself.  Promise me you’ll use them for whatever you need,” he urged her.

    “I promise,” Michaela agreed.  “I pray that I won’t need to resort to them—that I’ll be able to fulfill your dream of passing them down to our children one day.  But if the time ever comes that I can’t manage on my own, I’ll honor your wishes—you can rely on that, Sully.”

    He sighed.  “Good,” he said, his relief obvious and profound.  “I think—I think now I can face whatever’s comin’—as long as I know you and the children will be all right.”

    “And I think I can face the future too,” Michaela answered softly.  “As long as I have your love to give me courage.”

    “You’ll have that forever,” he pledged.

    They moved into each other’s arms and then lay down on the bed, holding fast to one another as sleep claimed them at last.