VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, [5], 6 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 03:33:39 03/25/03 Tue
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: A Journey Home - ch.9 & 10
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: A Journey Home - ch.7 & 8" on 03:29:41 03/25/03 Tue

CHAPTER NINE


Unlike Sophie, Peter knew Pike's Peak like the back of his hand. He'd been climbing and hiking its trails since he was a young boy. The South Trail was fairly well marked and one of the more traveled routes, a small comfort to Peter as he made his way up the mountain. He made excellent time considering the deteriorating weather conditions and reached the first ridge only about three hours after he left Charity. But that meant Sophie was still at least two hours ahead of him.

Stopping for a moment to catch his breath and take a sip of water, Peter tried to get his bearings. There were at least four more ridges to navigate before reaching the peak. The snow was falling at a heavy rate now and Peter estimated he'd be waist deep in some spots before long. How far would Sophie continue climbing before she'd relent and seek shelter?

"SOPHIE!" Peter yelled at the top of his lungs. "SOPHIE??!!"

Maybe he was wasting his breath, but he had to try. Not surprisingly, only the bitter wind replied and Peter tied the cords of his hooded parka more tightly about his neck and continued on.

His muscles were throbbing and his chest felt like it was going to explode as Peter reached the second ridge in record time. As before, the eerie too-quiet calm that accompanies a blizzard was the only sound that greeted him.

"SOPHIE? SOPHIE," he shouted again through the trees.

The second ridge was usually one of Peter's favorite spots, affording an excellent view of the Sully homestead and nearby Old Town, but Peter could hardly recognize the ridge now, let alone his family's homestead far beneath him. Preparing to ascend to the third ridge, Peter was overcome with the same gnawing fear he'd felt below. What if he was leaving Sophie behind? What if she hadn't made it this far? What if she was hurt and couldn't answer him. Even more frightening was Peter's necessary assumption that Sophie had stayed on the South Trail.

"If she didn't, I'll never find her," he admitted, rubbing the snow from his eyes.

Peter had barely secured his next foothold when something made him stop. Something about the second ridge…what was he forgetting?

"Didn't there used to be a cave somewhere around here? I thought it was the second ridge…" Peter struggled to remember.

"Haven't seen it in over twenty-five years and I'm looking for it in a blizzard," he moaned, trying to keep calm.

The rocks, the trees, the ground - everything was blanketed white. One spot looked just the same as the next. Peter aimed his flashlight into the darkness, repeating each beacon three times: at ground level, eye-level, and above, turning himself in a circle as he did so.

The first sweep yielded nothing and Peter was beginning to think he should have moved along to the third ridge by now, when something caught his eye. Not a light exactly, more of a glow, a small patch of snow on the eastern slope that seemed somehow brighter than the rest. Making his way toward it, Peter pressed his hand lightly against the snow, feeling no resistance. Cautiously, Peter expanded his exploration until he felt rock on either side. Tentatively, he began to dig at the snow between. If this were the opening to the cave, he would have to be extremely careful.

"SOPHIE…SOPHIE…SOPHIE!"

She should be able to hear him. Why wasn't she answering? If this turned out to be a wild goose chase, he'd never be able to make up the lost time. Still, something told him to keep digging and as he dug, the light grew brighter. If Sophie's flashlight was inside, Sophie had to be as well. Dwelling unspeakably in Peter's thoughts was the devastating possibility that Sophie's lack of response could mean only one thing.

Numb from the cold as well as his fear, Peter squeezed his way through the opening to find Sophie lifeless on the ground beside her flashlight.

"Sophie! Soph…" he shook her to no avail. Removing his gloves to feel for a pulse, he was taken aback by her condition.

"You're burning up," he panicked, relieved only slightly by her slow but steady heartbeat.

"Hang in there, Sweetheart," Peter begged, as he hooked Sophie's backpack onto his own.

Finding Michaela's letters still clutched in her hands, Peter quickly shoved them in the bag and lifted Sophie gently over his shoulder. "We're going home…"

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

Ever so carefully, Peter made his way down the mountain. At times, he wondered whether he had made the right decision. He'd had no time to fully assess Sophie's condition, no time to even administer any medication. If he wanted to make it back down before the mountain became impassible, he had to act fast. But with Sophie's added weight and the unrelenting snowfall, the climb took so much longer than he'd anticipated.

Peter's energy was nearly spent. He'd never climbed this long without stopping, especially under these conditions, but still his concentration never wavered. Though he tried to save his breath, occasionally he'd call her name, hoping she'd respond, but she never did.

More to reassure himself than Sophie, Peter would reply undeterred, "That's okay, Sweetheart, you just hang on, we're almost there…"

And eventually they were. Frozen, wet, and numb with pain, Peter made his way down the final path of the South Trail. Virtually blinded by the snow, it made no difference, for Peter knew this portion of his route by heart. Just a few more feet now and the landmark he needed should be directly on his left.

Smiling weakly, Peter placed his hand out and steadied himself against the towering oak. "Home," he whispered.

Quickly, Peter conquered the remaining steps, brushing just enough snow from the security keypad to type in "B-Y-R-O-N." The flashing red light changed immediately to a welcoming green but Peter suddenly realized he had no key.

"Oh, hell!" he roared, unwilling to accept any further obstacles.

Holding tightly to Sophie, Peter turned abruptly and, with a rage he usually reserved for the punching bag, gave the lock a resounding kick, praying he wouldn't shatter the antique glass in the process. Instantly the door gave way and miraculously the beveled, leaded glass sturdily withheld his onslaught.

Shutting the door firmly behind him, Peter maneuvered the dining table securely against it, protecting them from the elements. The house was freezing and the rooms were pitch dark but at that moment, the old homestead felt more welcoming and luxurious than the Broadmoor ever could.

Placing Sophie gently on the table, Peter grabbed some matches from his backpack and lit a candle. Sophie's face was so white, Peter gasped, checking her pulse immediately.

"Stay with me, Soph," he pleaded.

Peter's first priority was Sophie's fever. Pouring some water from the kitchen pump, Peter opened his emergency kit and located two of the four Tylenol capsules each kit contained. Breaking open the capsules, Peter poured the drug into Sophie's mouth and followed it with a few tiny sips of water. Thankfully, Sophie's swallowing reflex did the rest of the work and finally Peter's breathing began to calm.

"Good girl, you just stay with me," he encouraged, removing her wet jacket and brushing her hair gently off of her face.

Before long, Peter had a welcoming fire going in the downstairs fireplace and had carried Sophie upstairs, setting her on the fur rug that lay before the bedroom fireplace. Within moments, the bedroom hearth was emitting a warm and inviting glow.

"Now we've gotta get you dry," he announced, knowing she couldn't hear him but finding comfort in the conversation nonetheless. Searching Sophie's backpack and finding nothing but an extra pair of gloves, Peter surveyed the room. A large trunk sat next to the cheval mirror. Lifting the lid, Peter was amazed by the exquisite ballgowns he discovered.

"Nice, but I don't think you're up to dancing right now," Peter smiled, determined to keep Sophie with him, to let her hear the sound of his voice.

Continuing his search beneath the gowns, Peter found some simple white cotton nightdresses. "This is more like it," he nodded, bringing a lightweight, sleeveless shift embroidered with simple lace along its neckline and straps over to Sophie.

"Not your usual style, I know, but you'll look beautiful," he assured her confidently.

Slowly, Peter began removing Sophie's boots and wet clothes, lifting her sweater carefully over her head. She looked so helpless lying there by the fire clad only in her undergarments. Sophie hated to be helpless, Peter thought to himself.

But helpless, wasn't the only thing she looked. Lying there, with the firelight glimmering over her half-naked body, she looked incredibly desirable, more beautiful than Peter even remembered. Feeling the temptation to touch her, Peter shook his head.

"Careful, Pete!" he chastised himself, turning his eyes slightly and gulping as he ever so carefully removed her wet underwear and placed the nightgown swiftly over her.

Having accomplished that most difficult task, Peter's next endeavor was quite simple. Moving the gold-plated pedestals and red velvet ropes over to the far corner of the room, Peter turned down the bed, thankfully discovering crisp clean white sheets spread beneath the hand-made quilt.

"Ready and waiting for you, Sweetheart," he smiled. Gently, Peter lifted Sophie into his arms, then lay her softly on the bed, covering her lightly in fear of raising her already soaring temperature.

With hours until he could administer the next dose of medicine, Peter took a few moments for himself. He was cold, wet and totally exhausted. His muscles had begun to stiffen and his hands were raw with cuts and blisters. Two Tylenol would have felt wonderful about now but Peter refused himself any medication. With his and Sophie's emergency kits combined, he had only six capsules left and Sophie would need them all.

Anticipating the rough weather, Peter had, at least, included a fresh set of clothes in his backpack; and, changing into a fresh pair of jeans and warm sweater was a welcome relief. But, even kneeling by the fire, Peter was still chilled to the bone. Eyeing Sully's leather fringed jacket over by the rocker, Peter decided to put it on as well. After making certain that Sophie was resting peacefully, Peter headed downstairs to make a pot of coffee and tend to the fire.

Leaving Sophie for very long made him uneasy so Peter returned quickly. Unable to withstand the pain of holding the steaming coffee cup in his bruised hands, Peter placed the cup and saucer on the nightstand to cool. Settling himself into the rocking chair he'd moved close beside Sophie's bed, Peter soon collapsed into a deep sleep, unaware that Sophie's condition was beginning to take a turn for the worse.


CHAPTER TEN

Sophie felt free. Drifting, floating, falling…whatever she was doing it was more exhilarating than any parachute jump she'd ever experienced. The sky was hazy, full of those white puffy clouds that look just like cotton candy. When she casually reached the ground, unharmed, she found herself wearing a billowy white dress, her hair blowing freely in the breeze. The landscape was unfamiliar, pristine and untouched. Sophie wandered for a while, awed at its beauty.

In this amazingly peaceful setting, the sudden harsh voice that greeted her seemed out of place, rudely disturbing her reverie.

"So, you just gonna leave him?" The disapproving tone was unmistakable and Sophie turned to face her accuser.

"Sully…" Sophie whispered shocked to see the man whose portrait she so admired, standing before her in the flesh.

He wore only a pair of buckskin pants, like those in the photograph, and a strand of beads hung upon his bare tanned chest. His eyes were the clearest shade of blue she'd ever seen and his thick brown hair fell loosely around his shoulders. He was even more magnificent in person. Sophie might have spent the next several minutes reflecting on his incredible physique but the anger in Sully's voice quickly put an end to any such desire.

"Answer me!" he demanded taking her by the elbow and pulling her toward a small teepee nestled amidst the fields, "You just gonna leave him?"

Sophie peered cautiously into the teepee, venturing inward as Sully followed close behind.

"Peter…" Sophie gasped, surprised to find herself standing in the bedroom of the old homestead with Peter soundly asleep in the rocking chair.

"Is he all right?" she asked Sully in concern.

"Whaddya you care?" Sully replied scornfully.

"What kind of a question is that? Of course, I care!" Sophie responded indignantly, attempting to go to Peter, only to have Sully hold her back.

"Funny way 'a showin' it," Sully snapped. "Look at him!" he forced her. "Look at him!!!"

And so for the first time, Sophie truly looked at Peter, brutally compelled to face the physical evidence before her - the deep red gashes on his hands…the bruises on his face…his body defeated by utter exhaustion.

"Peter," she cried softly, wishing she could go to him.

"You almost killed him tonight," Sully seethed. "Now, if you wanna kill yourself that's one thing," he argued, pointing to Sophie's earthbound body lying in the bed beside the rocker, "but Peter's a good boy, he don't deserve ta die on some fool's errand…"

"You don't know anything about us!" Sophie ranted.

"I know he loves ya," Sully quieted, disarming her. "And so he was willin' ta give his life for ya. But, I know he deserves better than…this." Sully pointed at Peter's beaten, bloodied body.

"You're right," Sophie agreed softly. Then remembering Peter's call to Chloe, she added, "He's better off without me."

"You really believe that?" Sully replied skeptically. "Seems ta me a man don't risk everything for a woman he's decided he's better off without. Sure yer not just jealous?" he quipped.

But, before Sophie could offer any protest to the contrary, Sully began reminiscing. "I seen it in Michaela lots 'a times. She'd get all jittery and suspicious and…beautiful. She's beautiful when she's jealous," he beamed in a mischievous way that reminded Sophie very much of Peter.

"Maybe you should trust him?" Sully challenged. "Don't ya think ya owe him a chance ta explain? How 'bout stickin' around fer a while, sortin' things out…?"

"It doesn't matter now," Sophie sighed, allowing her will to fade.

"So yer takin' the easy way out?" Sully demanded, his voice forcing her to listen.

"Yes…No…I mean…I never meant for this to happen," Sophie's mind was reeling from the confusion.

"Come on," Sully prodded, gently this time, "let's take a walk…"

Miraculously, Sophie found herself outside the teepee once again, relieved to be enjoying the smell of fresh grass and the feel of sunshine, warm upon her face. Sully walked silently beside her until…

"Fresh air always helps me think," he offered encouragingly.

"Love's never been easy for me," Sophie confessed, surprised by her openness. She seemed unable to hide her true feelings here - wherever 'here' was.

"It ain't easy for most folks," Sully said wisely. "Wasn't easy for me or Michaela."

"I know," Sophie answered somewhat sheepishly, "I read your letters."

Sully nodded, already seeming to know of Sophie's transgression into their personal lives.

"Before I met Michaela, I'd lost everyone I'd ever loved…and Michaela…she was so all-fire bent on not needin' anyone." Sully smiled and then gave Sophie his first endearing glance. "You remind me a lot o' her."

"Really?" Sophie asked hopefully.

"Ya…too stubborn for yer own good." Sully's eyes twinkled and Sophie found herself smiling reluctantly at his bitingly truthful comment.

"Just love him, Sophie," Sully urged, "that's all he needs."

"But what if I hurt him?" she asked honestly.

"Seems ta me, ya hurt him tonight, a lot more than ya bargained for," Sully suggested.

Then, remembering all the times he'd hurt Michaela: Catherine…the uprising at Palmer Creek…the devastating loss of their unborn baby…Sully felt compelled to speak on Peter's behalf. "And, Sophie, if he hurt you, I know he didn't mean it."

Sophie didn't know why but she knew in her heart that Sully was right. He was so comforting to talk to. She felt safe with him, calm and peaceful. What's more, decisions that had somehow seemed so complicated and heartwrenching earlier, now seemed crystal clear and easy when she listened to him speak.

"Follow your heart, Sophie," Sully encouraged, placing a gentle hand upon her cheek before moving slowly away. "The rest'll come - good or bad - but the love'll get ya through. It's a love worth fightin' for…"

With that, Sully was gone and Sophie was left alone to decide her fate.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

Post a message:
This forum requires an account to post.
[ Create Account ]
[ Login ]
[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.