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Date Posted: 03:40:26 03/25/03 Tue
Author: dqfan
Subject: Re: A Journey Home - ch. 13
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: A Journey Home - ch. 11 & 12" on 03:36:33 03/25/03 Tue

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sophie rested her head back against the smooth rim of the antique copper tub and allowed the warm water to rise up to her chin. She could almost feel the stress escaping from her body as she soaked in the relaxing bath that Peter had prepared for her.

At the side of the tub, Sophie found her favorite strawberry shampoo. With a smile, she remembered slipping it into Peter's backpack as they were leaving Agnes. Sophie marveled that, after everything they had been through, Peter still managed to have it with him. Agnes and Mount Horizon seemed worlds away now - a lifetime ago. So much had happened. She and Peter had fought so hard, come so far.

And, as Sophie looked about the kitchen, it dawned on her that she and Peter owed a great deal of their newfound happiness to this house and its former occupants. For most of her life, Sophie had been on the move, first in the military with her father and later as a convenient means of avoiding commitment. But, there, at the homestead, she'd found a peace she'd never thought possible. It was as if none of her doubts or fears could touch her there, in that house, where the past and the present formed a bond of love so strong that nothing could destroy it.

Outside, Sophie heard the repetitive sound of metal slicing through snow as Peter continued shoveling a path toward the highway. Their impending 'rescue' should have been a comfort but, honestly, Sophie was in no hurry to leave. The time she and Peter had spent at the homestead exploring Michaela and Sully's relationship, as well as their own, had only strengthened their love and commitment to each other. Sophie could see it in Peter - and most of all, she could feel it in herself.

Pouring a little of the shampoo into her hands, Sophie began washing her hair, allowing the fresh berry scent to fill her senses. Suddenly a deep pang of guilt struck her. Here she was enjoying all of Peter's pampering: the bath, the shampoo, the roaring fire she could see silhouetted against the tinted privacy screen Peter had placed before the tub. He had done all this for her. Meanwhile, where was Peter? Outside in the cold - exhausted, sore and miserable, pushing himself past all limits, just so they could be home for Christmas.

"Home?" Sophie thought to herself. "The Broadmoor Hotel sure isn't home…This feels more like home…"

"We should have Christmas here…just the two of us," Sophie plotted, the hatchings of a plan beginning to form in her mind. Determined, she slid her head beneath the water forcing countless strawberry bubbles to burst forth into the bathtub. Sophie was grinning from ear to ear when she surfaced.

Playfully, she snatched a handful of the bubbles in her fist. Blowing them clear across the kitchen, she hugged her knees tightly envisioning, "This could just be our best Christmas ever…"

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

Peter's pulse was racing, his hands were throbbing and, basically, he felt as if he was about to keel over. No endurance test he'd ever attempted could compare with what he'd put his body through in the past few days. Now, with each shovelful of snow he lifted, an even greater groan of protest emerged alarmingly from his lungs. He couldn't go on like this much longer.

Feeling lightheaded, Peter rested his weight against the shovel for a while, allowing his breathing to slow. Looking back at the homestead, he wondered if it had been wise to leave Sophie alone. She still wasn't fully recovered from her illness. What if she was feeling as faint as he was?

"What a pair…What a Christmas…" he mused. Somehow, things were never easy for the two of them.

The winter sun was beginning to set over the mountains, heralding the official arrival of Christmas Eve. Peter began calculating his likely progress on the remaining snow path. At his diminished rate of speed, he could very well be shoveling all night, assuming such an attempt didn't kill him first. But, if he quit now and got a good night's sleep, he could easily finish the path tomorrow morning and they'd be back at the hotel by noon.

The latter choice providing infinitely greater appeal, Peter's decision was cinched when he caught sight of a small tree lying on its side a few feet ahead. Maybe this could help him break the news to Sophie that they had to stay another night.

As Peter dragged the scraggly tree slowly toward the homestead, his thoughts drifted back to one particular Christmas he'd spent there as a child. He was barely six years old. He and his mother had come for a quick pre-holiday visit to Grammy Kates; but, much as this trip, an unexpected snowstorm forced the cancellation of their flight home, stranding Peter in Colorado and all his gifts a continent away in New York City.

Though he was inconsolable at first, Grammy Kates soon tired of his melancholy brooding, refusing to permit any sad faces at such a joyful time of year. Quickly assigning tasks, she began cooking while Peter was instructed to find and decorate a tree. The pitiful specimen he'd chosen was even more pathetic than this one, Peter chuckled, the misbegotten sight still fresh in his memory.

By midnight, though, once its branches had all been trimmed with popcorn, the carols had all been sung, and he'd had his fill of Grammy Kates' Christmas pudding, Peter settled contentedly upon his mother's knee to hear her voice somberly proclaim, "Marley was dead…"

In retrospect, Peter realized, with a smile on his face, it was one of the best Christmases he'd ever had. He only hoped Sophie would enjoy her first Christmas at the homestead nearly as much…

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

Sophie hadn't wasted a minute. Quickly, she'd finished her bath and prepared a hot, fresh one for Peter's return. It was high time she took care of him now. Not because he needed her, like he had seven years ago in Seattle; but, because she needed him, needed to show him just how much he meant to her and how confident she'd become.

"Follow your heart…" Sophie heard the words clearly in her mind. Was it really Sully who had said them to her? Well, whoever it was, they were right.

"Follow my heart…" she nodded certainly, convinced she would not be disappointed again.

Deciding that holiday plans deserved holiday dress, Sophie went upstairs to search the bedroom chests for the perfect attire for their special evening.

Sophie was surrounded by a sea of dresses in every color, made of yards and yards of exquisite fabric. "They're all so…"

"How did she move in these?" Sophie wondered, passing over most of them.

There was a red one, with a full skirt and off-the-shoulder ruffles, accented with a large red flower. Though she considered it for a moment, red being the color of the season, Sophie decided against it. "It's lovely, but it's just not me…" she sighed.

Truthfully, most of Michaela's ballgowns lacked appeal to Sophie's more tailored, sophisticated taste, but there was one that ultimately caught her eye. It was green, Sophie's favorite color, and it had a square neckline that plunged surprisingly low, even with the taut folds of sheer white silk that were stretched across its bodice. It had tight sleeves and a fitted waist. The skirt was long but straight, without too much material for Sophie to trip over - her most pressing concern as she considered navigating the stairs.

"One little black dress…" she muttered as she squirmed her way into the gown, "what I wouldn't give for one little black dress…"

Still, surveying herself in the mirror, Sophie had to admit that the overall effect was actually quite flattering.

For Peter, she chose a simple pair of Sully's nicest black pants and white shirt. Digging a little further, she discovered that there was a matching black vest, as well. And, though Sophie was fairly certain Peter would balk at wearing the vest, she brought the three pieces downstairs and set them near the steaming tub.

Next, she began decorating the homestead as best she could. She'd found a few red ribbons in Michaela's dresser, probably hair ornaments, but they'd do just fine tied about for color. Then, Sophie proceeded to light whatever candles she could find. Better than harsh lantern lights, the candles basked the living room in a soft, romantic glow.

"Not bad…" she complimented, hands on her hips as she judged her efforts thus far. "All we need now is a tree…"

At that moment, the door to the homestead burst open. "Ho, Ho…Whoa…"

Peter stopped dead in his tracks holding his snow-covered orphan tightly in his hands. "Wow!" he continued, stunned. "Soph, you look fabulous."

Sophie shrugged, running her hands over her skirt, "It's Michaela's…"

Peter smiled at her attempt to divert his compliment. Locking his eyes with hers, he stated simply, "I didn't say the dress looked fabulous. I said you did."

Sophie smiled, hoping she wasn't blushing. She never blushed. This would be a terrible time to start.

Quickly hiding her nervousness she asked wryly, "Peter, what is that…that bush?"

"It's our Christmas tree, Soph," he announced proudly. Then, with a touch of regret he added, "I couldn't finish the path tonight. Do you mind?"

"Peter, does it look like I mind?" she responded, wondering if he'd noticed the room.

"Actually, it looks like you've been busy," he joked, pulling the tree inside and shutting the door behind him.

"I thought you promised me you'd take it easy while I was out," he chastised.

"And you promised me you wouldn't overdo it," she countered, seeing the pain and tiredness etched on his face. "Peter, you're exhausted."

"I'm fine…I'll be fine…" he answered, removing his jacket and gloves. "All I need is…"

"A hot bath…Well, I just happen to have one ready for you, Sir," Sophie grinned, pointing to behind the screen.

"I can tell you from personal experience that the baths here are excellent…" she teased, prodding him gently toward the tub.

"Thought I was supposed to be taking care of you," he mumbled in mock confusion as he willingly let her lead him into the kitchen.

"Any reason we can't take care of each other," she asked seductively, drawing the screen in front of him.

"No…no…no reason at all," Peter smiled broadly, enjoying this exciting, unexpected turnabout in their relationship.

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