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Date Posted: 10:06:28 03/25/03 Tue
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: Say The Words - ch. 6 & 7
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Say The Words - ch. 3,4 & 5" on 10:02:31 03/25/03 Tue

CHAPTER SIX

Progressing slowly but surely, and with carefully measured steps, Sophie managed to carry most of her belongings from the trailer into Peter's house. Peter's house…Her house…Their house. The entire concept made Sophie shiver. Only her overwhelming love for Peter kept those shivers from turning into total abject terror. Agreeing to marry Peter had been difficult enough. The thought of actually living together day to day was almost inconceivable. Sophie liked her space. She liked coming and going as she pleased, whether that meant the grocery store or Istanbul. Sure she'd had apartments, makeshift homes like her trailer, but a house…Sophie hadn't lived in a real house - a real home - since she said goodbye to her father and headed off to college. Even then, their house hadn't been much of a home since her mother left.

All of these thoughts swirled in Sophie's brain as she methodically piled her worldly goods on the floor of Peter's living room, stoically ignoring the pain in her ankle and the nerves in her stomach. With the last few items clutched in her arms, Sophie quietly shut the door to her beloved trailer, giving it a tender pat good bye. It hadn't been much, but she'd been happier there than she could ever remember. Sighing deeply, Sophie reminded herself that the trailer would still be parked on the front lawn tomorrow morning and she could always sneak over for a few private moments. In fact, her bed, dresser, and two folding chairs still remained behind, providing her with some small comfort.

Suddenly, Sophie realized her foolishness. Why was she happier in the trailer than she could ever remember? Peter, she answered herself. And where was she going now? To be with Peter. But, what if they weren't compatible? They'd never actually lived together for any length of time.

As Sophie stood in Peter's living room, she felt his presence everywhere. The Native American mask on the wall…the wilderness art…the photos of extreme sports - it was all so Peter. Looking around, she wondered. Where would her things fit? Where would she fit? Would she ever stop feeling like a houseguest in Peter's home?

Sophie gulped and set about putting away her belongings. Clothes first. That was easy. She didn't have many and those that she did served a multitude of purposes. Sophie smiled as she placed her hand on the oversized silk scarf she'd transformed into a skirt, tied at her waist, and worn for their special New Year's Eve party on Vashon Island. Her smile became even broader as she recalled the sparkle in Peter's eyes as he'd eagerly untied it. Folding the scarf carefully, she placed it on the bottom of Peter's top drawer, moving his shirts to the third drawer, next to his socks. So far, so good, she thought, feeling a little more optimistic.

After placing her lingerie in the top drawer as well, Sophie turned her attention toward the closet. Peter's wardrobe was extensive: his New York suits, hiking gear, and casualwear. Peter looked good in everything, Sophie thought to herself with a smile. Her hands brushed lovingly over his clothes and she found herself enjoying the guilty pleasure it brought her to feel them beneath her fingers, to inhale Peter's own unique scent and wish he were there with her right now. Sophie grinned, feeling like a foolish schoolgirl. Here they were acting like newlyweds and they weren't even married yet!

Happily, Sophie hung her clothes next to Peter's. Humming cheerfully, she easily convinced herself she'd been worrying over nothing. Soon, most of her unpacking was complete and Sophie decided to reward herself with a quick nap to rest her throbbing ankle. Stretched out on the bed, Sophie's eyes noticed Peter's laptop computer on the bedside table.

Dying to tell someone that she and Peter had set a date for the wedding, Sophie couldn't think of anyone she'd rather tell than Charity. Typing in Charity's email address, Sophie chuckled as she pictured the WALPOCS gathering around their one computer screen, oohing and aahing over each wedding update.

"Dear Charity," Sophie wrote.

"Peter and I have set the date and we hope you'll approve. Since we owe so very much to you and all the WALPOCS, we have decided to honor Peter's heritage and marry on May 20th, Michaela and Sully's anniversary."

Sophie paused for a moment, unsure what to say next. What more was there to say? Time…place… Place? Sophie's fingers froze over the keyboard. Where would they have the ceremony? She and Peter hadn't even discussed it. It didn't really matter to her, but it might to Peter. His brother, Mark, was still in New York, as well as many of his old family friends. Would Peter want the wedding there? Personally, she'd be happy with a small ceremony anywhere: Vashon Island, or maybe even something simple right there at Horizon. After all, Peter brought her to Horizon, encouraged her to stay, and now it was their home. What better place to begin? Except…

Sophie could almost hear Charity's reply and she hadn't even clicked "send" yet. Undoubtedly, Charity would want them to be married in Colorado Springs. Sophie sighed heavily. Truthfully, the idea had crossed her mind but this was their wedding, hers and Peter's, not Michaela and Sully's, and honoring them with the date seemed more than adequate.

Maybe they should elope? Sophie's eyes twinkled, as they did automatically whenever the idea of escaping to a far-off, exotic locale entered her mind.

They could do something adventurous… "Take our vows while parachuting," she fantasized gleefully.

Feeling herself becoming carried away, Sophie quickly finished her email to Charity with a simple "More information to follow soon. Love, Sophie."

Hoping that would stave the WALPOCS onslaught of questions temporarily, Sophie hit "Send" and let herself relax against the pillows, dreamily imagining her wedding in locales from London to Pakistan, and everywhere in between.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Hey Annie, got any chocolate desserts ready yet?" Peter asked, sticking his head in the door of Rusty's diner.

It was early. Annie wouldn't be serving dinner for at least another hour, but Peter was in a hurry to get home. Since Sophie was cooking tonight, the least Peter could do was bring dessert. If he were lucky enough that Annie had something chocolate baking - Sophie's favorite - well, that would simply be an added bonus, one that he hoped to be rewarded for later that evening…

Annie smiled indulgently as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Will my Chocolate Ecstasy do?"

"Annie, you're an angel!" Peter charmed. "I'm ecstatic just thinking about it."

"I bet you are…" Annie laughed, knowing Sophie's weakness for that particular dessert.

Returning from the kitchen a few moments later, Annie handed Peter the treasured confection. "You know, it's illegal in this town to ply a girl with chocolate and then have your way with her," she warned in mock seriousness.

"Only if you don't agree to marry her," Peter joined in Annie's farce, waiting patiently for her reaction.

Annie cornered Peter in utter disbelief, "You're getting married…?"

"Uh-huh," Peter smiled.

"You and Sophie…" she repeated, stunned.

"Uh-huh," Peter nodded.

Suddenly, Annie was talking a mile a minute - in Mandarin! Peter could only laugh, smile, nod, and finally, accept Annie's giant hug, hoping she'd catch her breath eventually.

But Annie broke away quickly, spouting in English this time, "Oh my gosh! I've got to pick up Gracie at school! We've got to tell Curtis! I need to be back here in an hour! You tell me an hour before the dinner crowd! How could you?!"

"Okay, take back the dessert, I'll cancel the wedding," Peter teased, heading for the door.

"Go! Now! And tell Sophie she's a crazy woman," Annie ordered exasperatedly, throwing her apron at him. "And if she wants me to make chocolate ecstasy for the wedding, I need two weeks notice!"

Peter nodded quickly, feeling the sharp prod of Annie's keys poking him in the back as she locked the door behind them and headed off to tell Gracie and Curtis the good news.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Somethin's burnin…" Peter wrinkled his nose as he entered the kitchen.

"No, it's not!" Sophie objected, quickly moving a pan off the heat. "It's simmering…"

"Simmering, huh?" Peter chuckled in amusement.

"And what's simmering, exactly," he wondered, dipping his finger into the sauce for a taste.

Before Sophie could slap his hand away, Peter had taken a lick, his eyes growing wide as he realized what Sophie was cooking. "Gianni's shrimp marinara sauce?" he guessed.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Sophie pouted, tasting it to be sure it hadn't burned too badly.

"I asked Gianni for the recipe before we left," Sophie explained. "I mean, we didn't get to eat much…" Sophie's smile was almost shy as she remembered how little they'd cared about food that night.

"And he gave you the recipe?" Peter couldn't believe Gianni would part with his family's secret recipe for marinara sauce.

"Gianni loves me. What can I say?" Sophie grinned.

"We should invite him to the wedding," she decided on the spot, setting their pasta dinners on the table.

"Sure," Peter agreed indulgently, digging in. "What's one more?"

"You told someone," Sophie intuned correctly. "Who did you tell?" she asked excitedly.

"I may have mentioned it to a few people," Peter hedged, enjoying her
curiosity.

"Peter…." Sophie eyed him suspiciously.

"Okay, I told Annie," Peter minimized his announcement.

"Who'll tell Curtis, who'll broadcast it over his radio, and the whole town will know," she surmised accurately.

Peter wasn't sure if he was in trouble or not but he squirmed in his chair just enough for Sophie to ask again, with increasing incredulity, "Peter, who else?"

"I may have mentioned it to The Cliffhangers," Peter mumbled, concentrating intently on his spaghetti.

"The Cliffhangers?!" Sophie's eyes widened. "Peter, the whole school will know!"

Then, realizing everyone would have to find out sometime, Sophie smiled admiringly, "Nice job…"

Catching her smile, Peter titled his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders engagingly, "I thought so…"

Their laughter filled the dining room and left Sophie amazed with the incredible ease she felt. It was as if she and Peter had spent countless dinners together discussing the day's events, sharing precious quiet time alone at the end of the day. Was this what it was like to live with someone? Was this what she'd been so afraid of? This wasn't threatening or overpowering…this felt so natural, so right. Sophie could feel her entire body relaxing, melting into the simple rhythm of their conversation.

"Did you email Charity?" Peter asked.

"Uh-huh. I think she'll be thrilled with the date," Sophie replied. "Did you call, Mark?"

"Yup, he said he'd leave that day open - barring any mergers and acquisitions, of course," Peter smiled.

There was a brief, awkward silence, as Peter hesitated an instant before asking, "Soph, what about your mother and father?"

Caught off-guard by Peter's question, Sophie's fork stopped in mid-air and she took an extra second before answering softly, "My mother's dead, Peter."

Peter sighed, realizing how much he still didn't know about Sophie's past. "Soph, I'm sorry…I didn't…"

"It's okay," Sophie reassured him. "She died in a car accident three years ago, along with her husband, Philip."

"Philip…was he?" Peter wasn't sure how much he should ask.

"Was he the man my Dad and I found her with?" Sophie finished his thought. "No. They'd only been married a few months."

Peter nodded quietly, filled with a sense of emptiness. "And your father?"

"Still alive, flying around performing. You'd think the Air Force would have enough sense to ground him by now." Sophie shook her head at the lunacy of someone daredevil flying and parachute jumping at his age.

"He's still on active duty?" Peter was amazed.

"No, he's retired…in the reserve…but they still let him jump as long as he passes his physicals, which he manages by a point or two every year," Sophie sighed. "Old Snowbirds never die…"

"Will you tell him about the wedding?" Peter figured he might as well ask everything now.

"I don't think so…" Sophie frowned, her eyes avoiding Peter's gaze.

"But you said the two of you were close," Peter remembered everything Sophie had told him at the old homestead.

"We are," Sophie began hesitantly. "I mean we were…It's just…We haven't really talked since…"

"Since?" Peter encouraged her to continue.

"Since he phoned me in Tibet to tell me about my mother's accident. He thought I should fly back for her funeral and I said no. He told me I'd regret it and we haven't spoken since." Sophie's voice reeked of finality.

"Do you regret it?" Peter asked in a whisper.

"No," Sophie replied a little too quickly. "Well…maybe…sometimes." Sophie still wasn't sure how she felt, even now.

"So, you haven't heard from him in three years?" Peter was beginning to understand where Sophie had inherited her stubborn streak from.

"No, not exactly," Sophie answered dryly. "He does write me once a year on my birthday…'Dear Sophie, Here's what I've been doing. Have a nice day. Love, Dad.'"

"Breezy little notes, they are, too." Even Sophie's sharp wit couldn't hide her hurt.

"Then, maybe if you invited him to the wedding?" Peter broached tentatively, knowing how much it had meant to him to reconcile with his own father before his death.

"No, Peter," Sophie's voice had become exceedingly stern. "You don't understand…It's just not that easy…"

Softening her tone slightly, Sophie finished sadly, "Whatever closeness we had, it's gone."

"Soph…" Peter didn't know what to say but he reached for her hand across the table.

Instinctively, Sophie recoiled, retreating not from Peter but from the pain of buried heartache. Rising from the table, Sophie busied herself by collecting their dirty plates. "It's okay, Peter, really. I'll just put these in the dishwasher…"

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"You left before dessert…" Peter entered the bedroom with a large serving of Annie's Chocolate Ecstasy, hoping Sophie would accept his peace offering. He could just kick himself that his mention of Sophie's parents had spoiled their first official evening together and he was determined to make it up to her.

"Oh, Peter, I'm not really hungry," Sophie mumbled from atop the bed.

Hoping to escape her family tribulations, Sophie had changed into her nightgown and settled herself to read more of Charity's Quinn-Sully memorabilia.

"It's your favorite," Peter tempted, climbing up beside her. "Annie's world famous Chocolate Ecstasy…milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, raspberries and cream…" With each ingredient he mentioned, Peter leaned closer and brought a forkful to Sophie's lips.

"No thanks," Sophie replied, turning to the next page in the album.

"Soph, I'm sorry I ruined our evening…" Peter felt absolutely miserable and longed to make everything right again.

"You didn't…really…" Sophie sighed. "I guess I just need to read about a happy couple right now," she explained, pointing to Michaela and Sully's love letters.

Peter was determined in his campaign to salvage the evening and for the first time he took notice of what Sophie was wearing…a short pink silk nightgown, trimmed in mint green and white lace.

Running his fingers provocatively along the lace edging resting upon her thigh, Peter inquired innocently, "We're a happy couple, aren't we?"

His question brought the slightest hint of a smile to Sophie's lips and, thrilled to see some of the sadness lift from her face, Peter grinned broadly.

Folding the album in her lap, Sophie chuckled softly, "Yes, Sparky, we're a happy couple."

"I'm sorry, Peter. I'm just not good talking about my past," Sophie apologized. "I shouldn't have run out on you that way."

"Long as you run to our bedroom I don't mind," Peter smiled, settling back against the pillows.

"Our bedroom…" Sophie repeated in a whisper, the words sounding so strange to her ears.

"That photo looks nice there," Peter complimented, pointing to a black and white picture Sophie had hung on the wall near the window.

"You don't mind? The space looked kind of empty and I thought…" Sophie still felt so unsure.

"Soph, it looks great," he reassured her. "Did you take it?"

Peter could see that coaxing Sophie to relax tonight was not going to be easy.

Sophie looked at the picture of the old goat herder. He was covered in tattered clothes and a long coat made of goat hair. He stood proudly before his flock at the base of a tall mountain in the middle of nowhere. Obviously, the wind was blowing fiercely by the way the goat hairs stood virtually straight and the animals huddled against the mountainside for shelter, yet the old man looked neither cold nor unhappy. His smile beamed; and, though he was missing several teeth, Sophie had never seen a more complete expression of pure joy in her life.

"Uh-huh," she nodded. "His name was Abdir. He was celebrating 92 years of life that day and he'd been tending goats for eighty of them. You never met a gentler soul," Sophie remembered fondly.

"I'm looking at a pretty gentle soul right now," Peter whispered, touched by Sophie's eloquence in her photography and in her words. "One that's been hurt a lot."

"I could say the same thing about you," Sophie reminded him, her hand reaching over to tenderly cup his face.

"How 'bout I read you a bedtime story?" Peter smiled, opening Charity's album to Michaela and Sully's wedding announcement.

Sophie snuggled against him and listened as Peter read aloud, "Colorado Springs' Wedding of the Year by Dorothy Jennings…"

"The meadow overflowed with sunshine and good cheer as the marriage of Dr. Michaela Quinn and Mr. Byron Sully finally took place today. Elegance and finery were the order of the day, with many of the wedding arrangements provided by the bride's mother, Mrs. Elizabeth Quinn of Beacon Hill, Boston.

Given in marriage by her mother, the bride was resplendent in a gown of English silk, with lace trimming hand-sewn by the ladies of Colorado Springs. Her bouquet consisted of fresh blue wildflowers picked just this morning. The groom also cut a handsome figure, wearing a traditional Cheyenne wedding shirt of tanned leather and beadwork.

Following the reception, the happy couple embarked by train for a two-week honeymoon in Denver."

"Wow," Sophie sighed with a chuckle. "I don't know if I can manage resplendent…"

"I can cut a handsome figure," Peter laughed, expecting full well the retaliatory punch Sophie inflicted instantly to his shoulder.

"Sounds like Dorothy Jennings was impressed," Peter remarked.

"Dorothy Jennings was their matron of honor. She was also a writer, the editor of the town newspaper and Michaela's best friend," Sophie spouted knowledgeably.

"You learn all that from the WALPOCS?" Peter wondered.

"Some…" Sophie hedged, remembering Sully's description of Dorothy's help with their Virginia City rendezvous. "And some from Charity and some from the album…"

"You're hooked, aren't you?" Peter teased.

"Aren't you?" Sophie chided right back at him.

"Not enough to get married in Colorado Springs," Peter thought ahead. "Charity would take over everything and besides this is our wedding."

Sophie pulled away from Peter slightly, taken aback by his intuitiveness. His words virtually echoed her earlier thoughts on the subject.

"Did I say something wrong?" Peter hoped Sophie hadn't had her heart set on Colorado Springs.

"Something very right," Sophie sighed with a smile, patting his chest gently to reassure him.

"So, where should we get married? Here?" Peter was curious to hear Sophie's ideas.

"Maybe…or Vashon Island…or maybe we should have ones of those adventure weddings and we can parachute out of a plane…" she suggested creatively.

"Oh, yeah, sure, over Bridal Veil Falls," Peter joked, hoping she wasn't serious.

"Don't make fun…." Sophie warned him.

"It's just that I've never parachuted out of a plane before," Peter explained hesitantly.

"I'll teach you!" Sophie offered. The idea was beginning to intrigue her.

"Oh come on, Soph, I'd never remember the words," Peter excused nervously.

Reciting the wedding vows, Sophie coached with a smile, "I do. I do…"

"No, no," Peter contradicted in mock seriousness, "It's Geronimo, you're supposed to say Geronimo…"

"You think you're so smart," Sophie sputtered. "Well…"

"Well?" Peter goaded as Sophie formulated a suitable retribution.

Sophie thought hard and then exclaimed impulsively, "No cake for you!" And with that, Sophie made a mad grab for the lone piece of Chocolate Ecstasy Peter had placed on the bed.

Dashing for it too, Peter intercepted Sophie's attack as they both ignored the fork, which had swiftly become airborne, and, instead, dived straight for the cake. Any vestige of the evening's earlier melancholy dissipated as their laughter filled the room and they scrambled across the bed towards the prize. Predictably, they each soon claimed a chunk of the priceless sweet, their fingers covered with sticky, rich chocolate in return. Breathing heavily, they glanced from the cake to each other, their gazes smoldering with burgeoning passion. Slowly, Peter offered his piece to Sophie, brushing the chocolate invitingly upon her parted lips. Sophie closed her eyes and relished the sensations…the tastes that flooded her senses…as she took a bite of cake and then a lick of Peter's fingers, back and forth, until she was done. When she'd finished, Peter kissed the remaining chocolate clean from her lips, his tongue lingering over each stray morsel.

Then it was Peter's turn for dessert as Sophie eagerly returned the favor, offering him one tantalizing bite after the other.

"Soph," Peter groaned. His mind was reeling and his body on fire from the sweetness of her lips.

"Sshh, one more spot," she whispered, unbuttoning his shirt and nibbling a last speck of cake that had fallen on his chest.

"Oh, Soph…" Peter moaned as he crumpled the pink silk of her nightgown beneath his fingers.

Delighted, Sophie sighed, more than ready to put Peter out of his misery.

"This is absolutely…" she paused mischievously, eliciting one more groan from Peter, "my favorite dessert…"

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